Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
They’d met two years ago when she worked in his favorite stationery store. Her job had been short-lived, but their friendship endured, and in that time, she’d led him to her couch gently more times than she should have needed to. Ramona had an uncanny ability to see things he wished to keep hidden, and she was disturbingly honest, which meant she didn’t allow those things to stay hidden.
Now, she looked him dead in the eyes, a telltale sign that she was about to unearth.
“Just say it,” he prompted her, ready to get the truth-telling over with. Suddenly he really, really wanted to bury his face in a pillow and sob.
“You don’t ask for anything,” she said simply.
“What?” Truman’s spine stiffened.
“Sorry, sorry, edit: Guy is a total piece of shit. Meant to say that first. It’s not your fault. But you asked how this happened, and aside from Guy being an emotional abattoir, it happened because you do not ask for anything for yourself. You accept what people give you, and you don’t ask for what you need. Or want. It’s a problem.”
Truman closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion.
It was a problem.
He didn’t mean to not ask for things. When other people offered ideas for what to do or where to eat, he got excited. He already knew everything he liked. Their preferences expanded his own. That was good, right? To be open-minded and flexible?
But he knew that after a while, people got the idea that they didn’t ever need to ask him what he wanted because they knew he’d be fine with whatever. And that…that wasn’t. That was the problem part, he was pretty sure.
He cringed anew, remembering the knowing looks Guy’s friends had shared the night they ran into them at a restaurant in the Central Business District. Truman had thought they were just a bit snooty, as Guy was, but they had ignored him because they knew he didn’t matter. Knew he was just a pathetic side piece. They had been embarrassed for him.
His head spun with shame and mortification, and he winced.
“You’re into interior design,” Truman said. “Do they make floors that swallow you where you stand?”
Ramona snorted.
“Unfortunately, I think they’re still working on that one. But you know, any floor can be used to stand on while asking for what you want and need so that people have a chance of meeting your desires.” She squeezed his shoulder to soften her words.
“I’ve gotta get out of here. Go somewhere no one knows me. Somewhere people won’t see me walking down the street and think There’s that pathetic loser whose boyfriend has a secret family. Well, I guess they’re not the secret. I’m the secret. There’s that pathetic loser who’s his boyfriend’s dirty little secret. Kill me.”
“You know, you’re the second person to say that to me today,” Ramona mused.
“I’m the second person who asked you to euthanize them because they’re dating someone with a whole other life? God, maybe it’s you.”
Ramona laughed.
“You’re the second person who’s told me that they want to get out of town immediately.”
“God, I wish.”
“So go.”
Truman sighed. He wished he were the kind of person who left town at a moment’s notice. Who gave in to their feelings of heartbreak and drowned them in a fancy bathtub full of wine and cupcakes in a glamorous location far, far away.
But he wasn’t.
“I can’t leave. I’ve got Horse, and…”
“People with dogs do manage to occasionally vacation,” Ramona chided. “Can you take him with you?”
Truman’s first attempt to fly with Horse had also been his last. Usually a chill dog, Horse’s horror at flying had been unexpected—and his insistence on sitting in Truman’s lap for the three-hour flight to Philadelphia, while sweet, hadn’t been received well by his seatmates. Despite Truman’s mortified apologies for the whines (Horse), paws in their laps (also Horse), and constant stream of calming baby talk (Truman), his fellow passengers had been neither charmed nor placated.
“Yeah, Horse doesn’t fly. It’s a whole thing. And it’s Christmas, so people have plans. I can’t ask them to come over three times a day and walk a dog.”
“As I was saying, you’re the second person to say this to me today.”
Truman opened his mouth, and Ramona clapped her hand over it.
“I mean you’re the second person who wants to get out of town but has stuff at home they need tended to. So what if you swap?”
He removed her hand from his mouth.
“Swap. Like, swap houses?”
“Yeah! Oh shit, it’d be perfect. You both really need it. How do I end up with all these friends who need my wisdom and guidance so desperately,” she mused to herself, flipping through her phone.
“Do people still swap houses? Isn’t that, like, the beginning of a true crime podcast or something?”
Ramona ignored him.