Chapter 4 #10
“Fucking lesbians,” he says. “I feel like you’re allowed a pause when you hear I love you for the first time, no?”
She shrugs.
Across the street, they watch a man plunge both his hands into the garbage and dig around, pulling bottles and cans out and tossing them into a shopping cart.
“Angie is so great,” she says. “I don’t know why I’ve been sabotaging it.”
“I have a feeling you do know,” Jonny says.
“There is a mental hurdle that I can’t seem to get past,” she admits.
He quietly waits for her to continue.
“Do you remember Eliza?” she says, and she feels like she’s going to cry, because this is the first time she’s said Eliza’s name out loud to Jonny in over a year.
“Oh, honey,” he says.
“I don’t know why I still think about her. I’d really like to stop.”
“You’re not going to want to hear this,” he says, “but I don’t think we ever really get over the things that end before they begin.”
She hangs her head. “Yeah.”
“It was peak romantic obsession when she dumped you,” he says. “She never became a real person. You might as well have made her up. And it’s easier to love a made-up person than a real one.”
Did Susan make Eliza up? It’s hard to fathom, given that during her days with Eliza, she felt more present than she’d ever been in her life.
“I also think there is some significance to the fact that she’s a girl from back home,” he adds. “Maybe she’s come to represent something about the past.”
This is too scary to look at directly. Susan has no idea what Eliza could possibly represent. Eliza is not abstract. She’s golden flesh and hot blood and a laugh that sounds like wind chimes.
Susan sighs. “For the past couple of years, I’ve just felt like I’m watching myself live my life.
Like I’m looking through a thick wall of glass.
Like, objectively, I understand that everything is good.
Work is fine. I finally have Instagram followers.
I have a beautiful girlfriend who is into me. What is wrong with me?”
Instead of answering, Jonny asks a question back. “Could you even say what you liked so much about Eliza?”
Susan is stumped. “I mean … she was funny. And smart. And hot.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Jonny says. “Anyone can be those things. What is it really about her?”
“I don’t know,” Susan says. “I can’t really define it.”
It’s cold out, and Susan pulls her hood up, shivering into it.
“Maybe because there’s nothing of substance there,” he says. “I’m Team Angie. She’s substantive and the hottest person I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“I know, right?”
“I would let her top me,” Jonny says, dead serious.
Susan laughs.
“But, honey, it sounds like you’ve got a little case of ye olde depression. I hate that you’re looking at your life through a wall of glass. Maybe time to find a therapist?”
“We should go back inside soon,” Susan says, unable to respond to this diagnosis. “I have to make sure the assistant is doing the livestream correctly.”
“I can’t believe you trust an assistant with that,” he says.
“Well, someone once trusted me.” Susan pauses. “Anyway, you’re right. I am going to try to fix things with Angie. That is, if I haven’t already messed it all up.”
“Good,” Jonny says. “Just don’t lie to her about how you feel.”
Susan considers this point. “I guess I thought I was protecting her.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he says. “The only thing you can do is be honest and let her make her own choices. You only get this one wild and precious life, as they keep telling me.”
Susan searches for the truth of how she feels. “Dating Eliza was like, I don’t know. How I imagined MDMA would be. Really incredible in the moment, but not necessarily recommended for long-term use. And I think I like Angie because she’s more like a daily vitamin supplement. She…”
Jonny cuts her off. “How have you made it to thirty without doing MDMA?”
“Ecstasy makes holes in your brain,” she says, knowing that wasn’t the kind of answer he was looking for.
“Myth,” he says.
“Fine.” She meets his eyes. “Risks scare me.”
“There it is.”
“It’s been a theme. Look, I’m self-aware now. Yay, me.” Susan claps sadly for herself.
Jonny turns so that he’s facing her on the bench. He takes both her hands in his. “Well, you know, love is a risk. Maybe this isn’t about an obsession with Eliza at all. Maybe it’s about having an excuse to be closed off.”
“So I don’t have to risk getting hurt?”
“Yes, but more than that”—he squeezes her hands—“so you don’t have to risk being known. If someone doesn’t really know you, they can’t ever really reject you, can they?”
“Fuck,” Susan says. Tears are streaming rapidly down her face and she can’t wipe them away because Jonny is still clutching her hands. Her vision blurs. “Have you ever thought about starting a podcast?”
“Yes, of course.” He laughs, but quickly grows serious again.
“Susan, my dear friend, you need to be real with the person who loves you, even if it scares you, even if it means telling her about your feelings for someone else, and even if it means you might lose her in the process. She deserves to know where you’re at. Now more than ever.”
“I’ll try,” Susan whispers.
And she does.