Q

Last night someone asked me what I was most afraid of. Not just what scares me, but what I’m most afraid of in light of the rough past couple of months. What kind of a question is that? Like how do you answer that? I stared at the underside of the coffee table and the giant letter Q written in chalk on it, just like I used to do when I was a little kid, except now that coffee table is in my apartment instead of my parent’s house. How do you tell someone what you’re most afraid of? I laid on the living room floor and decided to tell the truth…the real truth. 

“I’m most afraid that if he walked in here right now and wanted to fix everything and make it work, I’d say yes.” 

“Would you say yes?”

“I don’t know…that’s why I’m afraid.”

The real truth is this: I’d want SO BADLY to say yes, and to rewind a few months to all of the laughter and days that were so perfect I’ll never forget them. But it doesn’t work that way; you don’t get to go back, life has no rewind button. You can go forwards though. But, who’s to say that forwards will be any better?

So maybe I wouldn’t say yes. Maybe I’d want to so badly that I’d have to put my hand over my mouth to keep from yelling it, and just shake my head no instead. God, it would hurt so badly to have your heart and your head pulling you in opposite directions until you were almost split in two. But when you have to fight so hard to make your heart and your head do the same thing, maybe it makes you more whole. Maybe using every ounce of yourself to make the two parts agree keeps you complete, unabridged, entire. 

So, no…I’d say no. I’d say no with my head, and maybe my heart would agree.