My word for the day is flibbertigibbet. It’s a flighty person. For some reason, I always thought it was a noun for a tangible object, not like a personality trait. I guess I was addlepated, which means confused. That was yesterday’s word.
Your pillow doesn’t smell like your shampoo anymore, and I’ve never been this upset about a pillow. I spent an ungodly amount of time at the store today, smelling every shampoo, trying to find it. I’ve been holding your pillow to sleep every night, as if it’s somehow a suitable alternative to the real thing (newsflash: it isn’t). I haven’t slept well since the last time I held you in my arms. On one hand, I hope you’re sleeping well. But on the other, I hope your sleep is just as shitty as mine. Because maybe, it’ll mean you’ll come back to me. And then I can get on my knees to grovel, and beg you to forgive me.
Please come back to me, baby.
I talked to my dad today. He said my mom has been in contact with him. She has cancer, and it doesn’t look good. He encouraged me to forgive her, and wants me to see her. I don’t know what to do, Audrey. I still have a lot of anger about how she treated me growing up. Trying to force me into certain things so she could live vicariously through me. But if she dies, will I regret not sayinggoodbye? I wish I could talk to you. I know you’d see things from my perspective, and how even talking about my mom makes me feel out of control. It throws a massive kink in my life that I don’t like. You’d understand. God, I miss you so much it hurts.
I heard from the board today. They said you’re having each bachelor showcase an adoptable animal from a variety of shelters around Denver. That is so phenomenal, Doc. If you ever decide to give up your day job, you’d be an excellent event planner. Or a foundation board member. I’m in awe of you every day. I wish I could tell you that.
Training Camp started today. I’m hopeful for this team. It’s a good group of guys, and we’re already gelling quite nicely. But deep down, I hate knowing you won’t bethere to cheer me on. And that’s not a guilt trip. I know this is absolutely my fault. I only want you to know that I’m always thinking of you.
Aud,
You’ll love knowing I learned a new word outside of my word-a-day calendar. As part of my penance for what happened with the Coach’s niece, I have to do more interviews than ever. Some guy came over from England, and he referenced our “smashmouth” offense. Evidently it means being brought by brute force. I thought he was referencing the band! No one on the team knew what he meant either, because I went around to ask everyone.
I love you. I wish I’d told you that. I wish you knew how much I crave you. How you’ve made such an impact onmy life, and how I’ll never be the same man because of you. I want to do better. Be greater. Do all the things you’ve inspired me to do.
In another one of my punishments, I’m coaching a peewee football team. There’s this kid. Emmett. He’s quiet. Really introverted. But I can see the wheels turning in his head as he watches our plays. He’s soaking it all in. After four weeks of practice and games, he told me this week that he’s autistic. And Aud, I told him I am as well. You should have seen the look that came over his face.
You were right. I have a platform I’m not using.
And that changes now.
“Oh my God! Audrey!”Chelsea screams from my living room.
I’ve been home from Eternity Springs for a week. I didn’t know how desperately I needed the vacation. It’s been a few years since I took any significant amount of time off, and I know I can’t keep going like that. Arianna Santo Dixon pulled me into her girl squad, throwing me into the most chaotic group chat ever, possibly in the history of mankind. These ladies accepted me with no expectations. Then, as soon as I explained Chelsea, they popped her into the chat too.
I have girlfriends.
While sad to leave the denial bubble I created in the mountains, I had to come home. The on-call vet hadn’t killed any of my clients, but Chelsea reported more than one aggravated regular who didn’t like his table-side manner. Plus, I had a handful of last-minute tasks to get done for the auction.
Which is tonight.
And I’ll have to see Jamie.
Excuse me while I go hyperventilate a little.
So, Chelsea came over to get ready with me. I voluntold her she’d be attending as my plus one. She is my platonic lesbian life partner, after all, so it’s fitting. We shared a bottle of wine while doing our hair and makeup, and it did a great job of relaxing me.
“Audrey! Get in here!”
As I walk into the living room, I hear someone on the television say, “This is such a big development for the sport of football. What a platform he now has.”
“Who?” I ask.
Chelsea shushes me as the announcer continues. “Boy, I gotta say, I’m surprised we’re only now finding out about this.”
A woman pipes up. “From a female perspective, I can relate. We are told to be careful how we act, what we say, and anything we do in this male-dominated world of sports broadcasting. I have to assume that Wahlberg kept his diagnosis to himself as a precaution. He protected himself and his emotional well-being. I can’t find fault in that.”
“And Shara, do you think his announcement will help, or hinder, the Coyotes quarterback?”
“I think it’ll be twofold. On one side, you’ll have hundreds, if not thousands, of kids who now want to learn from him. Who see him as an even bigger role model than before. But, there will be old school fans who turn on him, because he’s tainted that picture-perfect image they concocted in their own minds.”
“Did he —” I stop, swallowing hard, as I stare at a gorgeous picture of Jamie transposed in the upper right corner of my television. “Did he announce he’s autistic?”
Chelsea’s head whips to stare at me. “You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s not my secret to tell. And honestly, the only reason I know is because I asked him if he was. I doubt he would have told me. Although, after everything that happened recently, I wasn’t sure if I believed he was autistic.”
