Dear Jon

by Lori L. Otto

  “Can I ask you a question?” he asks me.

  “Anything. You know that.”

  “Max wanted to know that since there is no known life on the planets in our solar system, who is there to turn on the lights at night.”

  I laugh a little. Ever since our trip to the zoo, Max has been obsessed with extraterrestrials… and he was asking very silly questions.

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “I corrected him and said that–while there may be no life like we know it on the other planets–there could still be some kind of life that we don’t understand. I mean, what is the unknown, but things we don’t yet know? Right?”

  I’m impressed by my brother’s line of thinking. “Right. Did you tell Max that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What was his reaction?”

  “He couldn’t grasp that concept.”

  “Didn’t think so,” I tell Will. “But how did you explain the light?”

  “I told him that the planets don’t emit light, but what we see is just what is reflected from the sun.”

  “Good answer.” I smile at him proudly. He finishes his chips and takes a drink, then lies down on his towel a few feet away from me. “Know how to tell a planet from a star?”

  “Yeah,” he says, but doesn’t answer.

  “Yeah? Point out a planet,” I challenge him.

  “There are so many stars here,” he says in awe. “It’s weird to think the same stars are above us in New York. You’d never know that, from what we can see from the streets…”

  “What is the unknown, but things we don’t yet know?” I respond to him with his own statement.

  “Exactly,” he says. “It’s beautiful. Oh, and there’s Mars, to the left of the moon.” He points at the planet that I’d already been focusing on. It’s the most obvious one in the sky tonight with its close proximity to our satellite. “Stars twinkle,” he finally answers. “Planets don’t.”

  “Can you spot Jupiter?”

  “I don’t think it’s visible tonight.”

  “Sure it is… it’s in Gemini. Up there?” I point to the western sky at the brightest planet. “See it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Will says, and I can hear him smiling.

  “If you’re still here next year when you turn sixteen and decide to get your license, you need to bring Max out and show him this sometime. In fact, you should get Mom to take you both,” I suggest.

  “Yeah… okay.”

  “Cool.”

  “Jon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If there is life like we know it on other planets in another part of the universe, do you think they have one without girls on it?”

  “Uhhh… if there is such a planet, I don’t think I would want to go there,” I tell him with a slight chuckle. “Why would you wonder that?”

  “Girls suck.”

  “What’d Ellen do?” I ask him. “Why aren’t you at Philmont’s right now?”

  “She thinks this idiot wrestler at her school who never paid attention to her before we started hanging out is the one.”

  “The one, huh?”

  “Yeah. It’s a dumb concept anyway,” he says bitterly.

  “I’m not sure I’d call it dumb. It’s a romantic concept.”

  “Romance is dumb,” he responds. “I really liked Ellen. She was cool… and I thought she was smart, too, but if she likes that guy, then… maybe I was wrong about her.

  “But, like… she kissed me last weekend. She kissed me! A lot!”

  “At the movies?” I ask, remembering back to the many dates I’d been on with Livvy that ended with us making out in an empty auditorium. I’d even mentioned a few of the dates to my brother when I’d come home from them, still high on her.

  “Yeah. It was awesome,” he laments. “Like foreplay,” he adds.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I tell him. “Did you have sex with her?”

  “No…”

  “Then it wasn’t foreplay,” I whisper. “You were making out.”

  “Same difference,” he says.

  “Sure,” I agree, not wanting to split hairs.

  “How could she do that with me, and then be someone else’s girlfriend a few days later? Why would she do that to me?”

  “First of all, she’s not as smart as you thought she was, because I have no doubt she could do no better than you. Secondly, Will… girls will break your heart. Ellen may be the first, but she won’t be the last.”

  “It hurts,” he says, and I can hear something catch in his throat. “Why would anyone subject themselves to this?”

  “Oh, man,” I say with reverence. “Because people can make you love in such extraordinary ways that the feelings they evoke in you can last for years… maybe even a lifetime. After wading through the pain, if the love was pure and good, that will be the thing you remember most.”

  “Why does it hurt like this, though? It’s not fair! I’m so mad at her!”

  “I know, Will, believe me, I know. It hurts because you allowed yourself to care for her… maybe it was the beginnings of love. You put down your guard. You became vulnerable. It’s part of trusting another human being with your affections.

  “I like to equate it to Newton’s Third Law… do you know what that is?”

  “No,” he says after a quiet sniffle. I don’t look over at him.

  “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. It may not sound like it relates to this, but think about it… if you’re allowed to love someone so much… for the pendulum to swing so far in the direction of another person… if they let go, something has to fill that space that once carried that love. It can be pain… anger… hatred… just something that’s in opposition to love.

  “But it won’t stay forever. Because what does a pendulum do?”

  “It swings.”

  “Right. Love returns. Whether you let the pendulum swing as far next time, well… that’s up to you. If you don’t allow yourself to love someone with all your heart, it won’t hurt so bad if it ends. But the good times won’t be as fulfilling, either.”

  “Will you hold your pendulum back next time?” he asks me.

  I’d loved Olivia as deeply as I could… and even after all the pain and anger, I want that again. Maybe I’m a masochist, I don’t know.

  “No,” I answer. “For me, I’ve had a taste of the best of everything… and I don’t want anything less for myself.”

  “Do you think you can find that with another girl? With someone other than Livvy?”

  I think about his question for a minute before sitting up and taking off my glasses, allowing the lights in the distance to blur. I wipe my eyes and sigh.

  “No, Will. I don’t.”

  “Are you going to take her back?” he asks excitedly.

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I need a fresh start… but I only want that fresh start to be with her. I don’t know how to make that happen.”

  “I hope you do take her back.”

  I smile, thinking of having her back in my life and back in my arms, my bed. I want those things more than anything.

  “Hey,” I say, changing the subject. “Before you met this girl, Ellen, didn’t you say there was someone else you liked? Someone at your school?”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Laila. She’s the one who wrote her number in my yearbook.”

  “That’s a pretty name.”

  “She’s a pretty girl,” he says. “And she was the only person to get a better grade than I did in English. Plus, we were the last two standing in dodge ball.”

  “Why didn’t you call her?” I ask him.

  “I don’t know,” he answers. “I was scared I wouldn’t know what to say…”

  “Well, now you have a whole summer of experiences to talk about. Don’t let this Ellen girl get you down for too long. So you weren't the one for her… so what? You know what she did do for you?”

  “What?”

  “She gave you confidence to a
pproach a girl, to ask her out on a date, to go out on a few dates with her, to make out with her… so look at all that you have to bring into your next relationship. It may hurt now, but she’s helped to prepare you for the next one… maybe the right one… although not the one because that’s a dumb concept.”

  “Do you believe in that?” he asks me.

  “I don’t think I did when Livvy and I started dating… but somewhere along the line, yeah. I started to believe.”

  “So is she the one?”

  “The girl I left behind at the beginning of summer isn’t… but I haven’t really met this woman she’s becoming. Her letters tell me she’s changed. She seems different to me.

  “And I think, yeah, she has the potential to be the one. But we have a lot of ground to cover before we get there.”

  We both lie back once more, quietly observing the vastness of the world around us. I think about how great it is, and begin to think the concept may be silly after all, like Will says it is. What are the chances of my one being this person I met by chance when I was only a child in my small but diverse city? When there are so many other options on this planet, and likely beyond…

  Is it dumb to believe?

  “Jon? I’m gonna miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Will. But I am so glad we’ve had this summer together. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

  “Would you trade it for the universe?”

  “Ummm,” I hedge, teasing him. “Yeah, I think I would. Sorry, but I mean… it’s the universe.”

  “I’d trade it for a planet,” he counters.

  “Which one?”

  “…the one with all girls.” He laughs after saying it.

  “Yeah, I think you’re going to be fine. By the time I leave, something tells me Ellen will be a tiny blip on your radar… just a speck… like that star right there.” I sit up and push his shoulder. “And don’t date girls who think cigarettes look cool. They don’t, and they’re not.”

  “Yeah, that was dumb.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “That was.”

  UNTHINKABLE

  I can’t get Livvy’s letter off my mind tonight. It’s been three hours since I read it, and I’ve thought of nothing else except the memory she reflected on today.

  I take off my glasses to read it once more, starting with the word at the bottom.

  Unthinkable.

  Not hardly. Not even close.

  I love you, Jon.

  I trusted you. In a moment of passion and utter foolishness, I trusted you.

  I still feel bad. I always will. I could blame Finn, but I know I have to take responsibility for my actions that day. I was brimming with jealousy. I’d felt very territorial. She was mine.

  “I want to possess you.” That’s what I had told her that Sunday in my dorm room. “Own you.” Like she was a thing. Like she was an item I could control and keep. She played along. She was all in. She wasn’t thinking any more clearly than I was.

  I have questioned my motivation since the day it happened… not every day, because I don’t even like to remember that was me that took such a chance with our futures. It was by far the dumbest thing I’d ever done. It was the worst thing I’d ever asked her to do.

  I thought it was an act of love and commitment. You wanted to share something with me you’d shared with no one else. How romantic, right?

  I’m seventeen, Jon. I was still in high school… and I know every time we slept together there was risk involved, but it was nothing like that day we came home from our vacations.

  For one thing, why did you make me show you my pills? Why didn’t I question you then? Did you not trust me, when I was willing to put everything on the line for you? You made me prove how responsible I had been… you made me prove I wasn’t lying to you. I wouldn’t lie to you, Jon. Not when it really mattered… and this time, well. It really mattered, and it could have changed everything in our lives.

  I’m still so sorry about that. I never properly apologized to her. I had admitted to her it was incredibly stupid, but I don’t think I ever explained just how remorseful I was.

  If I had, I probably would be reading a slightly different version of this letter.

  What if I had gotten pregnant, Jon? At the time, when I chose to set aside the Plan B, I put my faith in God and in you… that whatever happened to me was a consequence of our actions, and it was something I was going to face, regardless. You were very certain, though, that I wasn’t with child.

  Why did I trust you then? Where was my brain at all?

  I’m glad God had my best interest at heart, because I am not sure you did, or do.

  I don’t blame her.

  Would you have even stayed with me, had I been carrying your baby? I have so many doubts. I’m losing faith in you daily. It hurts me to even write it, but it’s true. I can’t fathom how you can just go on with your life like I was nothing… like we were nothing.

  I thought you would love me through everything: through fights and mistakes and poor decisions. But you’ve turned your back on me and you walked away.

  It’s the second time you’ve left me… the second time you’ve abandoned me without really giving me a chance to fight for us. I thought these letters would convey everything I’m feeling. I thought they might break through your shield.

  They have, Liv. You have.

  Thank God I didn’t get pregnant. Maybe you’ve learned something from your father… maybe you think it’s acceptable to leave another life behind, but it’s not, Jon. You make commitments, and you keep them. If you can’t, you owe it to someone to tell them.

  I know I owe her an explanation. I wish I hadn’t let so many weeks pass. I wish I could be there to see her and talk to her now. I have every intention of making this right back at school.

  I kissed Finn. I’m not even sure it was a conscious decision. How could it be when I loved you with everything I had? I gave you every ounce of me… I let you possess me. I put my life and my future in your hands.

  Why?

  We aren’t finished.

  I keep telling myself that.

  Unthinkable

  I feel bad about everything she’s mentioned. How I didn’t wear a condom. How I made her prove to me that she’d taken her birth control, even after she said she had. How my focus that day as I had sex with her was just me wanting to prove my dominance over her. How I have walked away from her twice. How I have been so selfishly silent this entire summer. How she compared me to my emotionless father, saying I abandoned her.

  And she’s right. I can be like my father in some ways. Driven. Intelligent. Curious. Serious. Ambitious. But there are negative traits of his that I could easily have inherited, or learned.

  Abandonment… because for years, as a kid, I did feel that he had left us. That feeling was exacerbated by the acerbic tongue of my bitter mother, and it was valid on many levels. But I never would have abandoned my child. I can’t stand that she thinks that of me. In that 2% chance that something would have happened, I would have stayed by her side through it all.

  I wouldn’t have abandoned either of them, no matter what. I won’t be like my father in that way.

  I can be stoic like him, though, I know this. It’s how I’ve protected myself from further pain all summer, and I hate to say it, but the only way I can think about facing her at Columbia is to continue wearing this facade of strength and detachment. I don’t want her to see how much she’s hurt me. I don’t want her to ever think she could do something like what she did again and get away with it. I don’t want her to know how much and how deeply I have fallen for her. I have pride. There have to be consequences for her actions. There has to be an understanding that I wouldn’t accept another lapse in her fidelity, even if it was an impulsive kiss with a close friend. Would I walk away a third time without warning? No. I would make sure she understood all my reasons for leaving, and for finally moving on.

  But there can’t be a third time. I don’t think there w
ould be.

  I check my watch. Eleven-forty-five. It’s nearly two in the morning in Manhattan. What are the chances she’s still awake? Pretty good, if she’s still painting… but I don’t want to be a distraction to her. Maybe Jack was right all along. I was the distraction. I don’t ever want to be what comes between her and her artwork again… between her and everything she knows about herself.

  It would probably be easier to start the conversation while I’m still in Utah, though. I can keep my distance, emotionally, not having to see her… but that’s not really what I want.

  I want to know if I will still feel the connection. I need to know if the undeniable pull to be together still exists when we’re in the presence of one another. I need tests. I need for every part of me to be a part of this decision. If I leave it to my brain, it’s over. If I leave it to my heart, I am done for, and she will always have the ability to crush me with one tiny mistake. I want to touch her skin or feel her arms hold me close to her; to smell her hair or her natural perfume; to see her smile or tears; to hear each sigh or breath or word; to taste each kiss.

  Tomorrow, I’ll make sure I was able to get into the art class I’d chosen last week. It’s Figure Drawing, since I’ve already taken the two introductory drawing courses, and I know Livvy will have to take at least Basic Drawing in the same building before she can get into Painting I… if they don’t let her skip ahead, and they very well may. I’ve heard of them having portfolio reviews to allow for that, and I know her portfolio would blow everyone away.

  But I’ve never heard of anyone bypassing Basic Drawing. It’s fundamental. If they allowed people to test out of it, I surely would have.

  That will put me in at least one building with her one day a week.

  And I’m pretty sure I just leveled up on my stalker status.

  Already I’m planning my life around her, and I’m not even one-hundred percent certain I’m ready to take her back… one semester together should be telling, though. We’ll either be drawn together, or we’ll discover other interests that take us in opposing directions. I hope it’s the former. I’ll at least be open-minded to the possibility, but this needs to be gradual. No rushing into things. Friends, then dating, then… whatever becomes of us.