Page 25 of Every November

Evan:

Same. Maybe we can make it a holiday tradition.

I didn’t know what to say back, even though I wanted to see him again, so I sent back a simple, “Maybe.” I know what hoping gets me, so I wasn’t about to start counting down the days to something that might not happen, and ultimately didn’t.

December 14

Evan:

How’s Chicago?

Me:

Bitterly cold.

Evan:

Seattle’s on day five of rain.

Me:

Do you like it there?

Evan:

I love it. You’ll have to come out sometime and see for yourself.

Me:

Maybe one day

I keep telling myself he doesn’t mean it, that it’s just something people say. It’s not like he invited me to come stay with him. It still does something to my chest every time I read it though. Which is dangerous because we can’t be anything, not when we live 2,063 miles apart. Roughly. It’s not like I mapped it door to door.

Neither one of us said anything more. It’s all so surface-level, and yet, it’s taken up more space in my head than anything has in years. We’ve spent a total of two nights together and traded a handful of texts. By any reasonable measure, this shouldn’t mean anything.

So I have no good explanation for why I added Seattle to my weather app overview and know it’ll rain through Thursday. I can already picture Dr. Patel’s face if I told her. She’d ask what I think it means and I’d tell her it means I have a weather app. Then she’d wait me out, the way she always does, until I said something true.

I’m not ready to find out what that would be.

December 25

Evan:

Merry Christmas!

Me:

Merry Christmas

Evan:

You in Bloomington?

Me:

Yeah, you?

Evan: