By the time I thought about the yellow paper again, I had begun to see how much meaning I had placed on it.<\/p>\n
For my Winnie.<\/p>\n
The words were still there in my memory, clear and familiar.<\/p>\n
I could picture the handwriting.<\/p>\n
I could picture the two pieces of blue painter's tape.<\/p>\n
I could see the date beneath them.<\/p>\n
But I was no longer trying to make those details tell me everything.<\/p>\n
They had already told me one important thing.<\/p>\n
Wendell had been thinking about me.<\/p>\n
That mattered.<\/p>\n
It did not tell me why he had been thinking about me, or what he hoped I would understand.<\/p>\n
Those answers still belonged to him.<\/p>\n
I had to accept that.<\/p>\n
For a while, I had treated the unknown as if it were a problem I could solve by being more observant.<\/p>\n
I had watched Wendell's expressions.<\/p>\n
I had remembered his words.<\/p>\n
I had searched my own memories for some explanation I might have missed.<\/p>\n
But no amount of remembering could replace the conversation we needed to have.<\/p>\n
I could not read his mind.<\/p>\n
He could not read mine.<\/p>\n
If we wanted to understand each other, we would have to speak.<\/p>\n
That truth seemed obvious when I said it to myself.<\/p>\n
It had taken me longer to live as though I believed it.<\/p>\n
I had spent years building a life with Dwight.<\/p>\n
We had learned each other over time.<\/p>\n
We had learned which silences were comfortable and which meant something needed attention.<\/p>\n
Even then, we had not always understood each other.<\/p>\n
No relationship gave two people perfect knowledge of one another.<\/p>\n
It only gave them chances to keep learning.<\/p>\n
I wanted that kind of chance with Wendell.<\/p>\n
Not the same life I had shared with Dwight.<\/p>\n
Not a replacement for what was gone.<\/p>\n
Something different.<\/p>\n
Something that belonged to the two of us.<\/p>\n
But a future could not be built only from warm moments and good intentions.<\/p>\n
It needed honesty.<\/p>\n
It needed the willingness to talk when one person felt uncertain.<\/p>\n
It needed enough trust for each person to admit what was difficult.<\/p>\n
I wanted Wendell to know that I was willing to offer those things.<\/p>\n
I also needed to know whether he was willing to offer them to me.<\/p>\n
I had tried to make myself patient enough that he would never feel pressured.<\/p>\n
Now I understood that no relationship could grow if one person did all the waiting.<\/p>\n
There had to be movement from both sides.<\/p>\n
I didn't need Wendell to tell me everything in a single conversation.<\/p>\n
I didn't need him to explain every part of his past.<\/p>\n
I needed him to stop leaving me to guess about the things he had chosen to bring into our relationship.<\/p>\n
The yellow paper had become part of our relationship the moment I saw it.<\/p>\n
The photographs had become part of it, too.<\/p>\n
Even the date had become something I thought about whenever we discussed Christmas.<\/p>\n
I couldn't pretend those things no longer mattered simply because I wanted the evening to go well.<\/p>\n
But I didn't want to use them as weapons, either.<\/p>\n
I wasn't preparing a list of his mistakes.<\/p>\n
I was preparing to tell him how I felt.<\/p>\n
There was a difference.<\/p>\n
One approach would have turned the conversation into a contest.<\/p>\n
The other might allow us to understand what had happened between us.<\/p>\n
I wanted the second.<\/p>\n
I thought about the way Wendell had listened when I talked about Dwight.<\/p>\n
He had never asked me to make my memories smaller.<\/p>\n
He had not acted as though my grief made me less available for a new relationship.<\/p>\n
He had allowed me to be a woman with a past.<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe he could allow himself to be a man with a past, too.<\/p>\n
Perhaps that was part of what made his silence so confusing.<\/p>\n
He had given me room to be honest about my life.<\/p>\n
I wanted him to feel he could do the same.<\/p>\n
But giving him room did not mean I could tell his story for him.<\/p>\n
I couldn't decide that his silence came from fear.<\/p>\n
I couldn't decide it came from embarrassment.<\/p>\n
I couldn't decide that the photographs represented something wonderful or something painful.<\/p>\n
Those were possibilities, not facts.<\/p>\n
The truth would have to come from him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to hear it without the burden of all the stories I had invented around it.<\/p>\n
That meant I had to let go of some of my guesses.<\/p>\n
I had to admit that I did not know.<\/p>\n
And I had to be willing to remain present while I learned.<\/p>\n
I found that thought surprisingly comforting.<\/p>\n
Not knowing was uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
But not knowing did not mean I was powerless.<\/p>\n
I could ask.<\/p>\n
I could listen.<\/p>\n
I could tell Wendell what I needed.<\/p>\n
I could decide what his answers meant for me.<\/p>\n
Those were things within my reach.<\/p>\n
I didn't need to control every part of the future.<\/p>\n
I needed to participate honestly in the part we were building together.<\/p>\n
When I thought about Christmas Eve, I tried to keep that in mind.<\/p>\n
The date was important to Wendell for a reason I still did not understand.<\/p>\n
The words were important to me for a reason I could explain.<\/p>\n
They had made me feel remembered.<\/p>\n
They had made me feel wanted.<\/p>\n
They had also made me realize how much I wanted to be part of his life.<\/p>\n
I could be grateful for that feeling without turning it into a guarantee.<\/p>\n
I could be hopeful without pretending the unanswered questions had disappeared.<\/p>\n
And I could allow the day to be meaningful without demanding that it solve every uncertainty between us.<\/p>\n
Maybe that was what growing older had taught me.<\/p>\n
Not that I should expect less from life.<\/p>\n
Not that I should stop wanting love.<\/p>\n
But that I could hold hope more carefully.<\/p>\n
I could let it encourage me without letting it make decisions for me.<\/p>\n
I could appreciate a kind gesture and still ask what it meant.<\/p>\n
I could believe someone cared about me and still need to understand how that care would show up in our lives.<\/p>\n
That was not distrust.<\/p>\n
It was honesty.<\/p>\n
I wanted Wendell to understand that.<\/p>\n
I wanted him to know that I wasn't asking for a perfect man or a perfect house.<\/p>\n
I was asking for a relationship in which I did not have to stand outside a closed door and wonder whether I was welcome.<\/p>\n
I had spent enough time wondering.<\/p>\n
The next step was not to wonder harder.<\/p>\n
It was to listen.<\/p>\n
And if the answer was difficult, I would face that difficulty as it came.<\/p>\n
I had survived grief.<\/p>\n
I had learned how to live through days I once thought I could not bear.<\/p>\n
I had learned that sorrow and happiness could occupy the same heart.<\/p>\n
I could face a conversation with Wendell, even if it changed what I believed about our relationship.<\/p>\n
I hoped it would bring us closer.<\/p>\n
But I no longer needed to pretend that hope was the same as certainty.<\/p>\n
The yellow paper had given me a reason to look forward.<\/p>\n
Now I needed Wendell to help me understand what we were looking forward to.<\/p>\n
That was all I wanted from him.<\/p>\n
A chance to hear the truth.<\/p>\n
A chance to answer honestly.<\/p>\n
A chance for both of us to decide what came next.<\/p>\n
By the time I thought about the yellow paper again, I had begun to see how much meaning I had placed on it. For my Winnie. The words were still … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":36506,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-36525","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36525","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=36525"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36525\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":36545,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/36525\/revisions\/36545"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/36506"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=36525"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=36525"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=36525"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}