A Collage of Emotions

Of course, I knew that there would be a downside to employment. It was the same downside that unemployment had. You had to leave people you loved.

I knew one person would be definitely be upset about my return to work. Iz said, “No. I don’t want to spend the Summer at the after-school program,” as if she was just given a three-month sentence at Sing Sing. I did my best to reassure her, and I’m afraid, feeling a tad guilty, I immediately played the But Now You Can Take Horseback Riding Lessons card.

I didn’t realize how much someone else might miss me until I received an email from my friend, Chris, the other day. I told him I was off to BWB (i.e., Bike with Bill). He responded, “Enjoy your bike. I bet Bill will miss you.” I then thought, “Jeez. The two people I will miss the most will be Iz and Bill.”

I knew all along that Bill was rooting for me; however, for the last six months, I think he was rooting for my bike and not for my resume. I could totally understand his feelings though. It seemed that on any given day, I waffled between “I could really get used to this” and “I’ve got to get out of this.”

After the job dust settled on Tuesday, I wrote all my friends to let them know that I was off the job market and off the rail trail. Bill was one of the first people I emailed. While Bill and I “just” biked together, our miles on the rail trail had become more about friendship than exercise after our first bike ride together.

Bill said, “So, you start work on Monday. My brain is such a collage of emotions that I don't really know how to respond to your new found employment. I guess I'm happy if it makes you happy!” My life had become this wonderful thing this last year due to my time spent with Iz and Nathan and my time spent biking my brains out and my butt off with Bill; my miles with Bill had become some of the greatest miles and moments of my life.

It wasn’t like I got on my bike every day and said, “I need to ride 30 miles today in order to meeting my training requirements.” I waited for a text message from Bill every morning asking me, “Ride today?” And, I got on my bike every day thinking, “What will Bill and I talk about today?” and never about the miles biked or the calories burned.

I reread Bill’s email again; I knew, like me, he was happy, yet somewhat disappointed with the job prospect. Bill had become one of my dearest friends this last year. He wasn’t a Lovely, and he wasn’t a co-worker; however, he was the friend who handed me his handkerchief when I sobbed at the bridge one cold and rainy morning when I was upset about just about everything.

When Bill and I rode the other day, he asked me if I was going to sell my bike. I laughed out loud, and I wondered if this was his way of getting in a jab, not at me, but with my employment. The following day, he asked me if our potential ride might be to my new job, so we could see how far it was.

I knew then that he was gradually coming over to my employed side. I didn't like it any better than he did, but I think we both knew it was inevitable. Regardless, I was so glad that he was there by my side whether it be on a bike or by text message.

Today, Iz and I went to Crane Beach; as we left the beach, I knew I’d miss the ability to head off to the beach, to Cambridge, or anywhere else on a week day. I, too, felt a collage of emotions on my last day of freedom; however, I knew I’d make it all work again. I’d write my documentation, I’d see Iz and Nate, and I still ride with Bill whenever I could; this was yet another new beginning in my old life. ♥