Lynnia (14 page)

Lynnia

Lynnia sat in the middle of her bed looking at her checklist of things that needed to be taken care of before she left for her trip. Everything had been taken care of except for the packing of her bags. Carlita, beautiful friend and amazing assistant manager that she is, arrived at Lynnia’s minutes after she’d gotten home from dinner with her sisters. In one hand was a bottle of wine and the other held a plate of cookies that Lynnia had happily accepted.

“You reading my mind or something? I was just wishing I’d stopped and picked up something sweet on my way home. My family destroyed the tarts I’d made for a treat tonight.”

They sat and talked about her sisters’ reaction to the news that she was going out of town for a little while. When Carlita mentioned the fact that her bags would already be by the door while she bounced in her seat waiting for the time to pass, Lynnia cringed.

“What? What did I say,” Carlita had asked her.

“I’m not … exactly … packed yet.”

“Aren’t you leaving early in the morning to make your one o’clock flight at the Miami airport? Why aren’t you packed yet?”

“It’s the last thing I have to take care of. I also hate packing with a vengeance. It’s pathetic. I usually talk one of my sisters into doing it for me. That’s just how pitiful I am when it comes to having to get myself ready for an out of town trip.”

“Ugh! Get up. Let’s go. You might need to see somebody about this, L. This is ignorantly sad,
hermana
.”

For the last forty minutes or so, Lynnia had been answering questions about what should go in what bag while handling payroll for the restaurant employees and sipping wine. Carlita fussed at Lynnia for pretending like she was going to get up and help her with the packing. Each time she’d offered, Carlita rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth in response.

“L., you are going to need a bigger bag than the one that you have right here. You can take the smaller bag just in case you do some shopping and need the extra space. Three weeks of clothes, shoes, and essentials will not be fitting into this cute, little thing you have by the bed. I don’t know what you were thinking with that one.”

Lynnia looked up over the glasses she had perched on her nose to speak then thought better of it. She didn’t need to say anything right now. She would reserve her snide comments for later in the week or month since she would be gone for three weeks. It would depend on how much Carlita irritated her or offered her opinion when Lynnia didn’t want it before the evening was over.

“There should be one at the back of the closet, under the garment bags back there. I believe it’s an orange one that I used in college. I usually don’t take … ha … it’s been too long since I took an extended vacation so I’ve never needed to use that big one.”

Ariana Grande’s “Just a Little Bit of Your Heart” began to play in the background and Lynnia’s thoughts drift to Dario. Her mind drifted to him at the most random moments causing her to be agitated with herself for giving in to the emotions that the thoughts brought about.

“L.? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Lynnia snapped out of her momentary lapse and blinked back the tears before looking at her friend. Carlita held a piece of paper in her hand. Actually, it looked as if it might be more than one folded together pieces of paper.

“What’s that?”

Lynnia put her laptop to the side as Carlita came around the bed to sit next to her.

“I don’t know. It was tucked away in one of the pockets.”

Carlita opened the papers and removed the sticky note, handing it over to Lynnia. Lynnia turned the sticky note so she could read it.

“This is my handwriting on this sticky note right here. I don’t remember putting this in the case. I mean, I haven’t used it since my last trip which was when I was in college.”

“L., you might want to take a look at this by yourself while I finish packing your stuff. This seems really personal.”

Lynnia took the paper from Carlita and read the top of it. It was titled:
A Letter to Myself
.

“Oh my damn. I don’t even remember writing this. I can’t believe I don’t remember this. Why don’t I remember writing this?”

Lynnia started reading the letter out loud.

Dear Lynnia,

This is a letter to you from yourself. You probably won’t remember doing this. It’s one of the reasons why I’m writing it right now. Today is our 22
nd
birthday and we were …

“… supposed to be going out to celebrate with the guy I was dating at the time. What was his name?”

“You probably answer that question in the letter.”

“You’re right. I should probably keep reading.”

Today is our 22
nd
birthday and we were supposed to be celebrating. It was to be a fantastic day. We had a boyfriend and plans to enjoy it. Maxwell Parnell, gorgeous, god-in-bed that he was, is the biggest jackass ever and the reason for this letter. I’m hoping that my plans to get completely stupid drunk won’t make us forget what it is that we’re feeling or what we promised ourselves. I felt like world class shit after seeing him with that slut, Marsha Pullman. Worse than that was learning that the child she’s pregnant with belongs to him. One year was devoted to being with him. One year that could have been dedicated to getting to know who we are and what we want for our lives. That’s not what happened. Instead, we dedicated ourselves to him and not the one that we really wanted or the person that was most important.

My words to you right now would be to stop.

Stop working so hard and not thinking that you are important enough to take a moment for yourself.

Stop thinking that you have to settle for just anybody because you’re not …

Lynnia stopped reading and closed her eyes. She remembered taking a moment between bottles of whatever liquor was available that night. Her purpose was to make sure she remembered just what she felt that night.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

Carlita was moving to stand, but Lynnia grabbed her hand and shook her head. When Lynnia had begun reading, Carli had joined her on the bed. Her friend’s closeness was needed. Lynnia felt this letter was something that she needed to finish and it wasn’t going to be a thing she could finish alone.

“I’m going to finish it. I have a feeling I might need you sitting right here with me as I do.”

Carlita nodded and moved into a more comfortable position.

Stop thinking that you have to settle for just anybody because you’re not pretty enough for anything better.

Stop hiding yourself away from everyone including your sisters.

Stop allowing the men that come into your life to run it.

Most importantly, stop running away from the one person that could make us genuinely happy. We both know who that is. We both know why you haven’t done it before now. If you’re reading this, I’m hoping he’s right there with you because we wised up and did something for us for a change.

We fought so hard to get rid of the things that we didn’t like about ourselves. The little fat girl is gone, but her insecurities are taking a ride with us through our adulthood. Our sisters are gorgeous. They were created by two beautiful people. These are facts. Why is it that we think the same two that created gorgeous women such as our five sisters would short us in the beauty department? Our beauty is there and has always been. We get crap men traipsing their way through our life because we feel like that’s all we are worthy of.

It has to stop. Now. It has to end here. Make us both a promise from the moment you’re reading this on. If we’re not sharing this with him, then go, find him, and let him know what we’ve been too frightened to know before. You know I’m right.

If I didn’t know anything else in this moment, then know I know this much. You’ve been miserable all of this time without him and no one is suffering more than you. Actually, he might be. He’s been silently waiting all of this time for us to be ready for him. I ask you this: Lynnia Evelyn Norton, are you finally ready?

I’m hoping that we realized we were ready well before it was too late to do anything about it. I’m hurting like crazy right now. I’m trying to drink the pain away. It’s not working. I want to call him. I want him to know that I need him. I want him to know how much I hate my life without him. Knowing this kind of pain exists makes me want to run to him and let him know what I’m feeling. I can’t. I think that’s what hurts the most. The fact that I’m my own reason for my misery makes this whole situation one hundred times more painful. Please, please put this version of me out its misery. I don’t want to live like this any longer. I can’t. It’s too hard. I need to know there’s hope when right now I have none. I’m writing this hoping that I can save you from reliving this pain. I’m hoping that you’ll set things in motion to make this better. He’s the center of that fixing that needs to be done. He’s the one that fulfills that one wish that no one knows we have. You know that, right? I hope you do. I truly hope that I’m much smarter, stronger, and happier in ten years than I am right now. Wise up. Lynnie. Wise up.