39 From the notebook of Elijah Iverson
Honesty, no matter how late it comes, is always best.
I’m reminding myself of this since I’ve just gotten off the phone with Jamie, and the consequences of my honesty feel very, very hard to bear right now, even though the call was about mundane matters like arranging for my things to be moved out of his little Westside house.
I loved Jamie. I love him still, maybe. But I couldn’t marry him, and I shouldn’t have said yes when he proposed. Even then I think I knew it, but I wouldn’t admit it to myself, because admitting it to myself would also mean admitting why.
Admitting that nearly five years hadn’t undone my feelings for a man who left me without saying goodbye.
I keep asking myself what I want. What I want from this, knowing that it will
