20. Special Delivery

September 28, 2009: My first day of work as assistant editor of the Texas-based magazine. Also, my birthday.

I had only been at my desk for an hour or two, and I already knew I was going to love it there. I was one of only two girls on staff, which was quite a change from previously working with ALL women, aside from the token Jim Halpert-type (who I'm pretty sure everyone had a crush on at one point or another), and one older male editor who was usually out of the office exploring the mountains or playing with bears or whatever it was he did.
I came back from lunch to see a beautiful bouquet of flowers on my desk. My stomach dropped. Were they from Cayden? I hadn't talked to him for almost two weeks, a record for us. I grabbed the tiny envelope hidden between the stems and ripped it open.
"Happy Birthday! We're so proud of you! -Mom and Dad"
I was relieved and disappointed. If they had been from Cayden, then I'd have to reopen communication with him, which I knew I couldn't do. At the same time, it would have been nice of him to send me something, being that I had put a lot of thought into his gift earlier that month. Jerk.
I thought it was cute that my parents sent me flowers considering I was living in their house. You know, to save a buck or two until I could get my own place. I was more than enjoying the free rent while I could. First I'd buy a car, then I'd look for an apartment. The hour-and-a-half commute, on the other hand, made me want to die a little twice a day.
My new editor, Hal, walked by.
"Wow. Who sent the flowers? A boyfriend?"
"Haha, close. My parents. Sweet, right?"
At that point I realized I wasn't only the new girl, I was the new girl with a bouquet of flowers on my desk. My new coworkers were going to think I was some kind of spoiled princess. But they knew it was my birthday, so surely they'd forgive me.
The door opened again.
This time, a delivery man came in with a bigger bouquet: roses.
The delivery man laughed and shook his head, "Well, aren't we just popular today?"
Shit. Now I was the new girl with TWO bouquets on her desk, in an office full of men. At least women would understand. Awesome.
I reluctantly reached for the card, praying this one was from one of my siblings, or maybe an old coworker. Although roses would be a little weird. Maybe I had a secret admirer?
I saw the name at the bottom before I read the note. "Cayden"
I held my breath, but the card down on my desk, and closed my eyes for a minute. Did I want to know what it said? What if it said, "Turn around," and then he was sitting there in the lobby? I stood up and my eyes darted around the lobby next to my cubicle. Nothing. What was wrong with me? He doesn't want to be with me, of course he wouldn't have flown all the way over here to tell me happy birthday, although a huge part of me wished he did.

"Happy Birthday, Whitney. Hope you have a great birthday, and good luck with your first day at work. -Cayden"

I folded the note back up, pissed off that he hadn't even put in the effort to hand-write the note. But then I remembered, he's a guy. Guys don't think about shit like that. They just give themselves a pat on the back for remembering your birthday and placing the order.
Hal walked by again on his way to the printer.

"OK, now who are THOSE from?"
He pointed to the embarrassingly large rose arrangement.
Crap, what do I do? It was my first day, I wasn't about to tell the story of Cayden to my new editor. And our office was so quiet, I knew everyone could hear.

"They're from a friend in London."
"Oohhh, a friend in London? Those roses look like they came from more than a friend," he joked.
I laughed and shrugged. "Well, Hal, that's a story for another day."
He retreated to his cubicle.

I sat there for a little while, trying to decide if I should respond. I could send a short email. Just, "thanks for the flowers" Just like that, no punctuation or capitalization. That sends a message. In the end I decided not to reply.

That was 7 months and 27 days ago. I still have four of his roses hanging upside down on my cubicle wall, with his note attached.

17. Organ failure

Flying back to NYC, I was having mixed feelings. I accepted the position. I’d be starting my new job on September 28, which just happened to be my 24th birthday. How was I going to tell Lea, Alexa, and Christian? I knew they’d be so pissed. I couldn’t imagine not seeing them every day.
Also, how in the hell was I going to plan a romantic week in Texas instead of NYC? Cayden said he’d be fine with visiting me no matter where I lived, but I knew he had his little British heart set on NYC. He sounded genuinely thrilled for me when I called him after I got the job offer. He was one of my biggest cheerleaders.

At 12:01 am, his time, I called him to wish him a happy birthday. I was the first person to say it to him. He thanked me over and over again for the poem and the DVDs. I started to wonder if the poem even rhymed when read in a British accent. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. He talked about how excited he was for his Birthday Bash that weekend. I just wished I could have been there. He said he’d start looking at flights to Texas in December because he couldn’t wait to see me. I hung up the phone with the biggest smile on my face. He was all I thought about all day. All I talked about. The feelings I had for him were overwhelming.

September 15, 2009, I was sitting at my desk at work. One week until moving day. I was arranging all of my files, getting ready to hand them off to Suzanne, who’d be taking them over when I left. It was almost 5 p.m. when I saw that I had a new email from Cayden. A smile spread across my face, as it did every time I saw a new email from him.
I dropped what I was doing and started reading.

“I've not booked my flights over to the US yet, and if I’m completely honest with you, I’m having second thoughts about it now...”

My heart literally dropped. Tears sprung to my eyes before I could stop them. I was about to have a breakdown at work. Talk about going out with a bang. I forced my eyes away from the screen and tried to fan my face with my hands to dry the tears before they overflowed my eye lids. My face was burning, and I had a lump in my throat that almost choked me. I was praying no one would walk by my desk. I tried to convince myself to close the email and read it when I was alone in my room at home. But I felt like I was going to throw up. If I didn’t read that email, I was going to throw up at my desk, or on the L train on the way home. I took a deep breath, promised myself not to have a breakdown, and I read on.

 ”...This weekend was really hard for me because I had such a good time and I didn't get to spend any of it with you. It reminded me again of when I was in Cyprus and my ex was in England and being away from each other actually just made me feel down a lot. It's really really crap because I really like you Whitney, but this weekend I started thinking about it realistically. If I come over there in December, I know that we'll hit it off in an amazing way and leaving will be hard, but when I get back I'll just be in a really down mood because I'll want to be with you...”

I had to stop reading right there. I was shaking. I was furious. There’s not a word to describe how I was feeling. I took a few more deep breaths and continued reading.

“...Then there's the issue with how often I'll get to see you after that. Flying over to the states every few months will be costly, you don't have too many holidays to take either, and my realistic chances of getting over to the states are, let’s admit it...slim at the moment. I spoke to a guy on Saturday who also wants to get over to the states and for a US H-1B visa to be granted, you either have to work for a company here and get transfered or have a specialist skill such as being a computer programmer or accountant because you've to be able to prove that there's no US person available with that skill...”

I wanted to punch him.

“...I spoke to Brenda who's marrying Gary too at the weekend. I told her about you and she thought it was amazing and said that she met Gary when she lived in Sweden and moved over here to be with him. She said he flew over every two weeks because it was only 2 hours away and was cheap but said that if they weren't seeing each other that often, it would have not worked...”

I wanted to punch Brenda.


“...I'll have a think about December and let you know for sure in a few days when I’ve had more time to think it through, but I just want to be honest about how I feel about it. If the situation was different and we lived closer, or if i was in a better situation to move, I think it'd be great but I've tried to detatch my feelings from the situation and think logically now. Having that empty feeling this weekend where I couldn't spend the time with you took me back to living in Cyprus and I promised myself i'd not put myself in a situation to ever feel like that again.  Since New York I’ve been in a good mood generally and not had that feeling, but now it's hit, I’ll be honest and say I hate it. I'm SOOOOOOOOO sorry Whitney, I feel awful about this...”

My editor walked by my cubicle. I was so absorbed in the email, I didn’t see her or have time to blot my tears or fan my face. I finally saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was standing on the other side of the glass of my cubicle.
“Are you OK?” she mouthed.
I nodded, told her it was nothing, and waved her off.

 ”...Regardless of whether or not I decide to come in December, I still want to stay in touch because I enjoy what we have by email but I’ve to try and detatch myself emotionally because it's just too difficult otherwise.

Sorry again for this email not being the best of news, I'll try and give you a call tomorrow or something if I can take lunch around 1.30ish. -Cayden”

I suddenly hated him. I had never been so crushed. I was hurt and pissed and angry and overwhelmed and embarrassed.
No...I was heartbroken.
Completely heartbroken.

16. Q and A

Cayden's birthday was just weeks away. I had to give up on the half-serious thought of surprising him. Right now I had to focus on where I was going to be living and what I what I was going to be doing. Deep down I knew Cayden wanted the best for me, but part of me felt like Cayden was hoping I'd stay in NYC. He loved NYC, thought it was the greatest city in the world. If Cayden and I were going to work out, NYC was our best bet. But this job was too tempting.
I flew down to Texas for an interview. It was Labor Day weekend, and Cayden's birthday was a week away. I sent him the first season of Arrested Development on DVD, because we always used to talk about TV shows and movies we liked. I think Arrested Development is one of the greatest shows ever. I also made him a card with a poem inside. I always wrote birthday poems for my closest friends, which he knew about. Here's the one I wrote for Cayden:

I’m well known for my birthday poems,
I think I’ve mentioned that before.
So hang on to this because when I’m famous
this poem will be worth much more.

I thought about writing you a cheesy poem,
about how I think about you all the time.
But that just sounded creepy
and I don’t think I could make it rhyme.

So then I thought about a smart-ass poem.
Because that’s something I would do.
Make fun of how you say the word “rubbish”
And how you spell the word "favorite" with a “U.”

But since it’s your birthday, I should try to be nice.
Try not to make fun of your fears.
But then I picture you running from a tiny spider,
And I laugh ‘til I’m nearly in tears.

I can picture you screaming when you see a snake,
Running as if you thought it had rabies.
I’d call you a woman for being such a wimp,
But women aren’t afraid of babies.

Oh, I forgot, I was supposed to be nice.
Excuse me for being so rude.
I’m writing this from my desk, so I should be working,
But frankly I’m not in the mood.

I’d rather be cozy and warm in my bed
Snuggled, my cheek on your chest.
Listening to your heartbeat, your steady breathing,
Right now that would be the best.

I honestly thought about flying to London
T\to surprise you at your big birthday bash.
But then I decided that you’d think I was crazy,
Oh, and I was a little low on cash.

I’m dying to hear your accent right now,
But on the phone we have no luck.
So get your ass over to the US or Texas
Where you get much more bang for your buck.

I know there’s a reason I wrote this poem,
But right now I can’t remember.
Oh yeah, Happy Birthday! I hope it’s the best!
And I’ll see you in December :)


As you've learned from this poem, Cayden is deathly afraid of snakes, spiders, and babies. We had shitty luck talking on the phone. Signal was weak or we'd get disconnected.
I went to the post office to send the card/poem, and it would be there in 10-14 days.
I finished my editing test and then flew down to Texas during Labor Day weekend to meet with the editors personally. My parents picked me up from the airport and took me to Hooters for lunch before the interview. I loved Hooters wings. Mom was more than thrilled at the thought that I might be coming back to Texas than I was. After lunch they dropped me off at the magazine office for the interview while they waited in the car.
The elevator opened on the third floor and I was overwhelmed with a sense of nervousness as I walked to the office. I immediately regretted my outfit. I was wearing a dress that looked denim on the bottom, sleeveless and black on top, with black shiny leggins and black high-heeled booties with a black cardigan. It was too New York. I looked pretentious, but just steps away from the door, I knew it was too late to do anything about it.
I opened the door and stepped into the office.
"Hi, I'm here to see Hal Warner."
I was ushered into the conference room with the executive editor, Hal, and two other male editors. They drilled me on why I wanted to work there and then we talked about New York. All three of them had ties to New York in one way or another. That's when I realized I was sitting in the chair with one leg tucked under my butt, my arm slung over the arm chair, completely unprofessional. What was I doing??
After the interviewed, they introduced me to the two other people on staff and then led me to the kitchen, where they showed me the liquor cabinet.
Hmm, only one other girl in the office, and a refrigerator full of beer? This I could get used to.
An hour later I was down in the parking lot, hopping into my parents' car.
"Well?? How'd it go???"
I said I thought it went well, but we'd just have to wait and see. On the way home, the editorial director, Ray, called me. He worked remotely, so I didn't get to meet him in the interview.
"So, why did you major in journalism?" he asked.
"Well, I knew I wanted to work for a magazine, so journalism sounded like the best bet."
"Well, usually if I see that someone majored in journalism, I throw their resume in the trash. So consider yourself lucky."
"Really? Can I ask why?"
"You can't learn journalism in a classroom. So if you majored in journalism, that just tells me you spent the past four years learning nothing."
He had a point. I didn't really feel like I'd learned much of anything in my journalism classes. Everything I learned about journalism I learned through the student media at my college where I was an editor.
"But I've seen that you've done internships, so I won't count you out."
Through my college years I'd interned at The Sporting News magazine in St. Louis, the Oklahoma Gazette in Oklahoma City, and Every Day with Rachael Ray in New York City.
We talked about the position, and why I'd want to move back to Texas (I never planned on moving to NYC in the first place, my family was in Texas, it was close to my college town). We talked the whole way home, until I got back to my parents' house. I thought the interview went well, but he was hard to gauge.
My parents loved that they could hear my end of the interview. When I finally hung up, they were more excited than I was at the thought that I might get the job.
Twenty minutes after I got to my parents' house, the editorial director called back.
"Hello?"
"Hey Whitney, this is Ray again."
"Long time no talk."
"Well, I didn't want to make you wait all weekend, and I can't make this official yet because it has to go through HR, but consider this your verbal offer."
My mom was at my side. I scribbled the words "verbal offer" on a notepad on the counter.
Mom started jumping up and down.

12. Positions

He picked the dates. December 3-13. He was going to come see me for a full ten days. At the same time, I was toying with the idea of flying to London to surprise him for his birthday. His birthday is September 11th, and mine is the 28th. I knew he was having a big party for his birthday that weekend. So Every once in a while I'd take a break from work to look up flights. One day in August I found a flight to London on his birthday weekend for only $432. I almost hit "purchase," but then I had these thoughts: What if he had a girl up there, and she'd be at his party? Or what if he was going to have an ex there? Or what if he thought I was out of my freaking mind for showing up at his door uninvited. That last one is the real reason I didn't click "purchase." Well, that and the fact that Suzanne and Mac tried to convince me that I'd end up in a body bag or something. Just pessimists. Cayden was about to book his flight to NYC for that December trip when I got an interesting email in my inbox.

"Hey Whitney,
Any chance you're still interested in that assistant editor position? A position just opened up, and I know I told you I'd keep you in mind! Let me know right away if you're interested."

It was from an editor at a magazine in Texas. I had applied for the position last November, during a bout of homesickness. My family is in Texas, and I couldn't stand that I was missing birthdays and holidays because I couldn't afford to fly home. Back in November I did two phone interviews, critiqued the magazine, and completed an edit test. It came down to me and one other person. They offered it to the other person because she was local. Or at least that's what he told me. I was more than bummed, because I fell in love with the magazine. It was fun, witty, everything my current health magazine wasn't. There weren't many magazines in Texas, much less many good magazines, so I really had my heart set on it. I recovered from that rejection and got comfortable in NYC. But now this?
I thought about the pros. Aside from the fact that it's a more entertaining magazine, it's also near home. It's in a city with MUCH cheaper cost of living, so I could actually afford to travel if I wanted to. I'd be 3 hours from my brother, who was away at college. I'd be 3 hours from my younger sister, 30 minutes from my older sister, and 45 minutes from my parents. A lot of my college friends moved to that area. I've always wanted to love my job, and I think I'd love it there.
But then I thought of the cons. It's not NYC. I'd miss the crazy culture. I'd miss the subway (it's always such a bitch to friend a DD). I'd miss the beautiful buildings and my beautiful rooftop. Not to mention, I'd miss my NYC friends. I loved them. But, it could be career suicide. Once you leave the NYC magazine circle, you can't get back in. So if things didn't work out in Texas, I'd be screwed. And lastly, Cayden loves NYC, and wants to come visit me there, specifically.
I hit reply.