Page 53 of Drive Me Crazy
“Yes, but I’m scared,” I reveal after a minute of silence. It’s somehow simple yet so complicated. “Connor is an absolute piece of shit, but he’s also the reason my podcast got so big. What if I’m not successful on my own? What if I can’t do it withouthim? What if he somehow ruins podcasting for me all over again? I don’t know how I’d handle that.”
“You define your own success, Ella,” Cindy states matter-of-factly. “Success to you may mean getting X number of downloads, but it could also mean scoring your dream guest. Hell, it could even be just hitting record on the set that Blake got you. You’re in charge of setting goals for yourself.”
It’s no wonder I’m paying her the big bucks that thankfully my insurance covers.
“I feel like I have a before and an after,” I admit. “Sort of a B.C. and an A.D., if you will. The B.C. is PlayMedia, Connor, and my podcast. The A.D. is Formula 1 and writing. I’m not sure how I feel about mixing the two.”
Cindy purses her lips in thought. “If we put areas of our lives into tiny boxes and keep them locked away, one day all those boxes are going to pop wide open and we’re going to be left with a really messy floor. I think if we can acknowledge that parts of our past can productively flow into our present or future, we’re setting ourselves up for success.”
I feel like she’s Ebenezer Scrooge making me look at the past, present, and future. “So like a Venn diagram instead of a box?”
“That’s a great way of thinking about it.” She nods, pieces of hair falling out of her clip. “Let’s reframe it. Instead of thinking about what you lost, think about what you stand to gain if you get back into podcasting without PlayMedia.”
Cindystays quiet, giving me time to think. “Um, I guess I’d have more of a say in who I choose to interview. And I could work with sponsors whose products I actually use and like. I’d also have complete creative control, which would be really nice.”
“Those are all great things.” Her smile is supportive. “Rather than seeing podcasting as something you need to leave behind in order to move on, I challenge you to think about how to adapt it to what you want to do and who you want to be.”
“What I want to do is get a drink.” I sigh, sinking back into the couch. Therapy is simultaneously the best and the worst. “This is a lot to think about.”
We spend the rest of our session discussing ways to neutralize podcasting as a trigger so that I can make it my own and regain a sense of power over it. I leave Cindy’s office and head to SoHo to meet my friends at our favorite bar. I find a glass of wine waiting for me.Home sweet home. I take a long sip before greeting them.
“I’m taking it you had a fun time with Cindy?” Poppy asks, raising an eyebrow. Anyone eavesdropping would think we’re discussing a good friend of ours. Not someone I pay to listen to me vent and cry.
“An absolute ball.” I elbow her lightly in the side. “What’ve you guys been up to? Did I miss anything fun?”
I immediately regret asking the question when it’s revealed that Poppy and Jack think that me flirting with random guys will help keep my mind off Blake. According to Pop, it’s the perfect way to prove I’m over him.Screw a glass of wine. I need the whole fucking bottle.
“What about him? He’s cute.”
Poppy points out some finance bro in a Brooks Brother button-down and Hermes belt. She knows I don’t do casual hookups, but she’s insistent that the best way to get oversomeone is to get under someone else. Flawed philosophy in my opinion.
“If he’s so cute, then why don’t you talk to him?” I reply with an unamused smile.
“He looks like he’d talk about his fraternity bros for an hour,” Jack adds. “Or would ask you about Nasdaq and try to explain Bitcoin to you.”
Every guy she’s tried to push me toward, I have an excuse for. Is he handsome or does he just look like he has a house in the Hamptons? Is he attractive or does he just have a sense of style? Is he hot or is he just tall? I’m asking the hard-hitting questions as per usual.
“You’re making it extremely difficult to cheer you up.” She sips on her drink, slamming the glass back down on the table. “How about the guy in the blue polo drinking the Manhattan?”
“He looks like someone you’d see onDateline,” Jack muses with an eye roll. “I’m going to have to pass on Ella’s behalf.”
“I’m fine,” I interject. “I don’t need to flirt or sleep with someone to prove that. I just want to have a fun night out with my two best friends. Can we do that?”
“We are having fun,” Poppy argues. Suddenly, her eyes widen. Nothing good can come from that look. “Okay, a really, really cute guy just walked in.”
Jack lets out a low whistle. “I agree with Poppy on this one. He’s just your type, El. Tall, dark, and handsome. Sort of a mysterious vibe going on.”
“Oh! Does he also have a devilish smile and a rumbling laugh?” I ask, feigning interest. “Or what about a jawline that could cut glass? Does he have that? Let me know if he has an accent because I’m a sucker for those too.”
“Ugh,” Poppy moans. “No! We weren’t trying to remind you of Blake.”
“He’s trouble, Ella,” Jack comments with a pointed look.
Ittakes me a second to remember that Josie’s back in London and isn’t about to belt into “I Knew You Were Trouble (Taylor’s Version)” or “Bad Reputation” in response to Jack.
I sigh with a shrug. “Well, at least I didn’t waste a customized condom on him.”
TWENTY-FOUR
