Today was a little intense at work. A pre-meeting meeting to prep for some exploratory conversation. And then the exploratory conversation itself. Which went really well, but went long, and only served to further illuminate just how big of a chunk I’ve bitten off.
And speaking of biting, this little back to back session happened during lunch. But did not actually involve any lunch. I think meetings during lunch hours should involve food, even if its a working lunch. By the time we were done my energy was drained and my stomach was growling.
I assembled my salad, grabbed a container of watermelon from the fridge and settled into my desk fully intending to spend some quality time with D-Listed and Texts From Last Night. But then my phone rang. And I was needed. But I was told I could bring lunch.
So back upstairs I went. To a mostly empty office. To work out some project details with a colleague who is also a good friend. And she was clearly having a rough day. So we started talking. And I lamely ate my salad while she poured her heart out to me. And then I counseled, because that’s what I do. And then I shared some things. And we talked about our future career paths, something she and I have always done. We once planned on going to grad school together.
She and I are both at tipping points. Or it feels that way. Only we’re each a little unsure of which way to go. Struggling to either figure out the next step or to find peace where we’re at. We missed a birthday celebration. But it was important for us to talk that way. An hour and a half after I walked into her office, I returned to my desk.
I picked up my now room temperature watermelon and just sat at my desk, trying to decompress. And then my phone rang. Only this time it wasn’t the extension at my desk. It was my cell phone. And it was Aaron. I’d kicked off my heels but didn’t care. I picked up my watermelon and went skittering out to the parking lot. Stepping quickly over the hot pavement. Finding a spot in the shade under a tree.
Our last calls have all been so brief we’ve hardly said hello before we’ve had to go. They’ve been squeezed into illicit moments. He’s sounded stressed. I’ve felt disconnected. Today was different. He was relaxed and happy. A mutual friend of ours is in town and he’d just returned from that meet up. We had the first meaningful conversation in weeks.
Which of course, me being me, got me a little misty eyed. And in a lull in the conversation it just burst out.
“I miss you. I miss you so much.”
“Aww, bugaboo. I miss you too. I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ve just been feeling so detached from you and missing you and just…”
“I know baby. It’s on me. I don’t call you enough.”
It was wonderful to hear from him. It was so wonderful to hear his voice. But not just his voice. There was something else there. A spark that’s been missing between us. I was afraid that spark had been lost in all the shuffle. It’s very reassuring to know it’s still there.
