April12,2025
Dear Journal,
Dont show up again, Tom, I told him calmly, Okay? He seemed puzzled. You mean not come today? he asked, not catching the undertone.
It was early morning; Tom was already perched on the hallway step, hurrying off to work. No, I mean absolutely dont come back, I repeated.
He laughed, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and dashed out the door. I shut it behind him and breathed a sigh of relief.
Those words didnt come easy. Tom was practically family to me. That night I felt a fierce, unquenchable fire insidefueled by a sudden desire to say goodbye. Tom didnt get it; he didnt guess a thing. He only managed a surprised, Dan! Youre a champ today. A goddess! Stay that way! Love ya, sweetheart!
Wed once been two families intertwined: my husband Ron, Tom, and his wife Bella (thats what he affectionately called his Bella). Our youth was loud, restless, and reckless. Truth be told, I always liked Tom. Whenever I bought a dress, shoes, a bag, Id imagine whether Tom would like the same thing. Bella was my best friend.
We weathered more together than I can recount. I knew Tom didnt breathe the same air as I did, but we kept a respectful distance. When we met, Tom would wrap his arms around me gently and whisper, Dan, Ive missed you so much!
In my mind, when families become friends, theres always a sparkusually a man for a woman or viceversa. Folks are drawn to temptation. Someone loves a friends spouse, and thats how the knots form. I dont put much stock in pure platonic friendships between men and women. Theres always a bed somewhere in the story, past, present, or future. Those friends usually end up kind of like lighting a fire next to a haystackyoull eventually be burned. Rare exceptions exist, but theyre just thatrare.
Ron would often stare at Bella, licking his lips in a way that made me give him a playful swat on the head. Hed laugh it off, Dan, dont overthink it! Were just friends! then add, No sin in lying on the ground! I trusted Bella like I trusted myself; she never crossed the line. Ron, though, loved to pick berries in other peoples gardens, which is why we split after twenty years. He found a new berry that sang about future heirs. By then our kids had grown and left home. I packed Rons suitcase, gave my blessing for his second marriage, and felt the first pangs of solitary womanhood.
Bella and Tom would pop in often, trying to pity me. I wasnt really suffering; I simply stopped caring about holidays. Id drift from corner to corner of the flat, feeling the hollow echo of celebrations when theres no one to banter with, argue with, or bleed into.
Three years later Tom became a widower. Bella fought a painful illness for a year, and on her deathbed she told me, Dan, look after Tom. I dont want him ending up with another lady. He always liked you; you felt that. Live together. Tom erected a granite monument for his late Bella, planted flowers, and eventually started visiting me. I opened my home to his grief, offering warmth, care, and a listening ear. We shared memories, laughter, and tears.
We walked many miles together, splitting joy and sorrow evenly. Our bond grew tighter, but over time the connection grew heavy for me. I found myself irritated by Toms endless chatter, nitpicking over trivial things, and his fastidious habits. The scent of his cologne didnt suit me, the bed felt cold, his humor was missing. It seemed he talked about red while I was blind. His speech was a monotonous drone from dawn to dusk. He was picky about food, clothinglike a moon that never quite shines. Perhaps Bella loved him enough to endure his quirks?
I began to feel restless, craving solitude without extra roommates. My affection for Tom evaporated. When his presence became a nuisance, I suggested we part ways peacefully. I decided to give him a night to remember and then walk away for good.
Tom, for his part, loved me fiercely, believing everything between us was perfect. He answered every jab with a sweet smile, kissed my hands, never held a grudge. Hed naively say, Dan, dont be angry. Ill fix everything. Youll never be able to cut me off. Who else will love you like I do? And indeed, after his words, Id melt like a candle in the wind.
One lunch break he called, voice trembling, Dan! Whats happening? Are you okay?
Fine, I replied, Come earlier. Ive missed you terribly. I muttered, It feels like my suitcase with a broken handletoo expensive to toss, too awkward to carry.
Our roads have tangled together, and I cant just abandon a widower left to fates whims.
Lesson learned: Even when threads are knotted tight, sometimes the healthiest choice is to untie them, let both sides find their own path, and carry forward the wisdom that love, in any form, teaches us to recognize when holding on does more harm than good.
