She drew her hands around my neck. “I realized that I’ve been wanting it too. But, Melany… can you be patient with me?”
“Of course,” I said.
“I might get anxious about things.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to need a little patience, myself. This is all new as hell to me.”
She looked into my eyes again. “So, what does this mean?”
“Well, I’d…” Now I felt shy. “I’d like you to be my g-girlfriend.” I struggled to get the foreign word off my lips.
Kendra laughed and hugged me. “Sure. I’d like that too.”
We stood outside Shadetree in each other’s arms for a long time, neither one of us wanting to be the first to let go and say goodnight. Finally, Kendra was the one to say we should go.
“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Riverwalk performances.”
“I’ll come by during my lunch break,” I told her.
“It’s Sunday tomorrow,” she said.
“For me, it’s still a work day,” I said.
Our last kiss lingered until we finally separated, and Kendra hurried off to her car, giving one final glance over her shoulder at me. I smiled at her and then got into my car. For a while, all I could do was sit there smiling.
I have a girlfriend.
I laughed, and then repeated it out loud to myself. “I have a girlfriend. Kendra is my girlfriend.” I shook my head, the grin still plastered to my face, and then pulled out of the parking lot.
When I woke up the following day, the feeling of amazed disbelief continued. I felt like I was walking on air. I went through my routine, and even though it was the same stuff I’d done day in and day out for years, today it felt like everything that I did was the most awesome thing ever—even eating a bowl of regular old cereal.
I sat down at my desk to get some work done. I pulled up my designs and the code, and went over them slowly.
“This is trash,” I said to myself.
I thought about Kendra’s performances, especially the one from the night before, and just how inspired they were. Her passion for what she did was evident in her music.
Where had my passion gone? When I looked at the work I’d done, all I saw was uninspired, derivative garbage. What had happened to the inspiration I’d had with me when I’d first started? My first apps were magic, and I remembered how easy creating them felt, even when I was balancing grad school at the same time.
I couldn’t proceed with what I had. Maybe Kendra was right. I did need to do some searching.
I made a decision. I would scrap what I’d completed and start completely fresh, but only when I felt I had the inspiration to move forward. I’d be patient with myself, and take as long as I needed. I’d let go of my attachments and redefine what wa
s important. I had money—enough to last for a long time if I changed my lifestyle. If that was what had to happen, then I’d do it.
I turned off my computer and looked at the time. It was only mid-morning. Typically, I wouldn’t be taking a break for another four hours.
The routine is no longer applicable, I thought. It’s time to change things up.
I put on a record and paced around the condo, unsure what to do with myself. I made a cup of coffee and then decided not to drink it. I stared at my cell phone, wondering how Kendra was doing.
Hold on, you can just go see her right now. I wasn’t confined to my schedule. I could go to the Riverwalk now and see her. Hell, I could spend the whole day down there if I wanted. I couldn't help but be a little intimidated by the thought. My routine had been gospel for so long, with it all revolving around the goal of work productivity, and to just toss it all out felt bizarre. I felt lost.
Why is this so damn hard?
I continued to pace. “Just go,” I told myself. “Stop being dumb and just go. It’s okay not to be working. Remember what your new goal is.”
Finally, I changed out of my work clothes and into something more casual. Then, after a few more minutes of anxious pacing, I threw myself into the elevator and mashed the button.