Chapter 7 #3
He thought Maureen was pretty – but terse.
She was pushy and driven, but wasn’t he?
The problem was distance and prior commitments - both were a huge issue for even considering attempting a relationship with anyone.
They were oceans apart, time zones apart, and his parents were a big, big problem – financially and mentally.
It wasn’t like there would ever be a cozy holiday with the family or a chance to meet the in-laws, because it would be like shoving Maureen into the deep end – a piranha with a bunch of sharks, and frankly he wasn’t sure who would win.
“What am I even thinking?” he whispered, staring at her email. “In-laws? I must be more stressed than I realized because it’s just a chummy email after she ripped me a new one… not exactly ‘romantic’ in the slightest.”
Processing, debating all the ways this could blow up in his face, Eli finally clicked reply and began typing.
Dear Maureen,
I’m really not good at this – at reaching out or even opening up to someone, but that hasn’t served me very well in the past or the present.
Here I am, taking a chance, and hoping that you can read between the lines of what I’m afraid to put down on paper.
Your email meant a lot to me – both of them.
I’ll admit the first one was a little humbling and hard to accept, but still welcomed because it was an attempt at friendship… which I could use badly.
I never thought to share with you that these emails are monitored, so please don’t disclose anything regarding location, political opinions, threats, or anything that could be construed badly or picked up on the filters.
If I knew those exact terms, I would share them…
unless it got me in more trouble. I probably shouldn’t have told you about my brother, so ‘brother’ should be an okay term - but I really don’t want to talk about him when I’m emailing you.
Let’s focus on… friendship. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, but I have too much baggage to really be much of anything else – besides, if I told you, you’d probably run. I wouldn’t blame you, if you did.
Sincerely,
Eli
P.S. Do my eyes make up for my melon head?
P.S.S. You can tack as many of these on here as you want, because I generally read them as ‘psp-psp-psp’ like you were calling a cat.
Staring at the screen, he almost deleted both postscripts because it sounded much too forward, much too flirtatious, and that wasn’t the vibe he was trying to create right now.
Friendship. That was the only thing he could really give someone, and it was barely there to begin with.
Before he could change his mind, he drew in a shaky breath and clicked ‘Send’ – before letting it out in a panicked rush.
“What am I doing?”
Opening another email, he began typing frantically.
Maureen,
Don’t take any of that the wrong way. You were right. I’m a douche with a melon head in dire need of therapy, meditation, and right now my neck is killing me from the stress. Lots of stress. Can a guy die from stress? Asking for a friend…
Me – I’m asking for me.
You know what, ignore me and delete both emails.
I’m stressed.
Bye.
Eli
Clicking send, he paused and then re-read both of them before putting his head down in his hands.
His fingers were firmly planted in his hair, yanking hair from his hairline that would be receding soon enough if he lost the genetic lottery.
He was nearly thirty-five, single, alone, but with two big dependents that hated his guts…
and a boss who wasn’t his biggest advocate.
Cursing under his breath, he heard his computer ping, notifying him of an email, and he immediately broke out in a cold sweat.
Looking up slowly, he let his fingers slide down his face from his hairline, peering carefully between the digits, as he braced himself… and snorted.
SALE! Refillable deodorant, only $4.99 – Click Here for details on how to smell your best during your worst days.
Eli re-read the subject line that popped up and couldn’t help the panicked bubble of laughter that welled up inside of him.
He was pathetic, completely overwhelmed, barely hanging on by a thread, and the Universe had jokes regarding the state of his deodorant.
If that wasn’t a sign from Above, then what was it?
Hitting reply once more, he knew how pathetic and desperate it would come off to Maureen to receive three emails within the span of five minutes – perhaps it was only four minutes – but that didn’t stop him.
Hey – me again.
Look, I’m not good at this, things, well - any of THIS. You picked a person who has a messed-up past with the trauma scars to prove it. I’ve never dated. I’ve never had a relationship, or a real friend outside of work – and even then, calling it a ‘friend’ is a stretch.
You don’t have to reply.
I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re really nice…
but I’m not sure that I can even fill the role of a part-time friend.
I think you caught me at a low point, and I’m finally having a breakdown.
I just laughed at a spam email about deodorant.
I feel stuck, alone, trapped, and completely overwhelmed.
I hope you find someone – and I think your eyes are amazing too.
Eli – the loser
Clicking send, he slumped back in his chair and hung his head on the back of the seat, trying to hold some fragment of his world together before it all fell apart.