35. Secrets, sleepovers, and potential heartbreak

Cayden was planning a trip to NYC in October with his roommate Drew.
"But maybe I could take a few extra days off to come see you in Texas," Cayden said to me when we were talking on Facebook chat.
I thought about what it would be like to see him again. I thought about the night of the base running and felt my cheeks grow hot. I thought about that connection we had at the bar, on my roof, in my bed. It was something I didn't have with Brady or Addam. With Brady, it was like we were best friends until right when we got under the covers. The sex was fun. When we were done, we rolled over and went to sleep, back to best friends. It was actually quite perfect. The only thing that could make it more perfect was if he bought a new set of sheets because for some reason his had a gaping hole in the middle near the bottom. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night with my feet twisted and tangled in the fitted sheet and I'd kick my legs, not caring if I dead-legged Brady in his sleep, until I freed myself of the death trap. Then I'd consider punching him for not buying new sheets.
With Addam the sex was incredible, but it only happened three times. He'd cuddle me afterward, and when I'd roll over to go to sleep he'd always keep one hand or one foot on me. I loved it. He could be so affectionate when he wanted to be. I'd never cared about anyone the way I cared about Addam, so sex with him was like nothing I'd had before. But we still didn't connect the way Cayden and I did. I could talk to Cayden about anything, but with Addam there were rules. He was a very private, very guarded person, so there was a list of things I wasn't allowed to tell my friends and family about him, the main one being that we met online. I didn't exactly want to broadcast that to the world either, but I didn't mind if my closest friends and family knew the truth.
Here's a prime example:
One night we were sleeping at his place, and he woke me up in the middle of the night.
"What??" I don't take well to being woken up.
"You're snoring so loud!" he said, while cracking up. Yeah, I admit it, if I have a stuffy nose, I snore. I'm only human.
"I was not! Leave me alone." Not only had he woken me up, but now he was laughing at me and accusing me of snoring like an old man?
He was still laughing.
"Babe, don't be mad. It's funny!"
"No, it's not! Snoring is NOT cute."
He put his hand on my back as I turned away from him.
"Babe, not everything you do has to be cute."
"Go to sleep."
The next morning he was still cracking up about it, mostly because I'd gotten so mad at him.
"Oh man, Whitney, it was so funny! I might have to go apologize to my neighbors! I bet the people in Haiti thought round two was coming!"
Oh yeah, he got a real kick out of it.
Later that day I met my parents for lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant.
"How's Addam?" My mom asked.
"Oh, he got a real kick out of my snoring last night."
My parents cracked up as I told them the story. Apparently it wasn't only funny to Addam. Later a Haiti Aftershock news alert was on TV and my dad said, "Whitney! Come look! Look what you did!" He cracked up. I just shook my head, thinking "Men."
That night I told Addam how hard my dad laughed.
"What!? You told your parents about that?"
"Calm down. What's your problem?"
"They know you slept over here?"
He was pissed.
"Um, yeah. I'm 24 years old and you're 26. We're not little kids, you know."
"Oh my god, I can never look your dad in the eye again."
"Oh get over yourself! I didn't say, 'Hey dad, Addam rocked my world last night.' You're being ridiculous."
He was in a bad mood the rest of the night. Every 30 minutes he'd chime in with, "I can't believe you told your parents."
-----
The more Cayden and I talked about him coming in October, the more excited we both got.
He was shocked at how cheap Texas is compared to London. He started sending me links to giant houses in Texas, 5 bedroom houses with sprawling pools for $500,000. He'd send the link and say, "Look how cheap that is!" Cheap? Half a million dollars was NOT cheap, but if he thought so, I didn't want to burst his bubble. He had his little British heart set on moving to New York City once he finished his MBA, but every once in a while he'd send me links to business consulting jobs in Texas, saying, "Look how perfect this job is. This is exactly what I want!" He started talking about how he could move to a different city, maybe one in Texas, and use that as a stepping stone to get to NYC. He loved everything about New York. He'd been there twice and decided it was the greatest city in the world. I begged to differ. Sure, there were things about it that I loved, but give me a car, sunshine, and a swimming pool, and I'm happy.
Thinking about seeing Cayden again helped me get Addam off my mind. When I'd be driving around town, I'd picture him in the passenger seat, his eyes peeled on the landscape as he tried to take in Texas. He'd send me links of the skyline of the city I lived in, and he'd say, "It's not New York, but it doesn't look too bad in this picture!"
In the back of my head, I kept telling myself not to get my hopes up, because he'd probably bail anyway.

19. The Replacements

There were a few more back-and-forth emails that I won’t bore you with. More of him explaining how much he likes me, but he’s just trying to be realistic. More of me saying I was hurt because it seemed like he didn’t think I was worth the hassle of a long-distance relationship. We were going in circles, and I knew I shouldn’t respond, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not talking to him, even if I was only accusing him of not caring about me.

Finally, I cut off communication. Every once in a while I’d respond, write down any mean, hurtful thing I could think of. But I’d delete it before I’d send it. I had to forget about him.

A facebook chat popped up later that week from my friend Brady. We had a *thing* back in college. It wasn’t dating because we didn’t go on dates. But it wasn’t just hooking up, either, because I can count the number of times we had sleepovers on one hand. I met him at a party. He was tall with brown hair and green eyes, and I could tell by the way his shirt tightened across his chest that he had a rock-solid body under there. He kissed me that night. I was drunk and thrilled.

Turns out we had a class together. Ballroom dancing of all classes. We waltzed, tangoed, foxtrotted, and cha-cha’ed together the rest of the semester. He’d come over on Monday nights to watch Laguna Beach. It was his guilty pleasure. He’d kiss me when he left, and sometimes he’d put his hand on my leg while we watched TV. But nothing ever came of us. He was switching schools after that semester, moving to Texas to attend chiropractic school, so he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship of any kind. That, and I’m pretty sure I was more interested in him than he was in me. Anyway, he moved that December and we kept in touch every now and then. He started dating a girl named Rae when he moved to Texas, fell in love, and had been with her ever since. Lucky bitch.

That was four years ago, so the random Facebook chat caught my attention.

B: Are you busy?
W: Not really, what’s up?
B: Things aren’t good with Rae.
W: Aww, I’m sorry. What’s going on?
B: I messed up.
W: Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good.
B: We broke up. Well, she broke up with me.
W: OK, I’ll ask the obvious. Why?
B: Her mom and I kissed, and she found out.
W: WHAT???
B: We were really, really drunk. She kissed me. I didn’t pull away in time. Her cousin saw it and told Rae.
W: Holy shit. That poor girl.
B: I know, I really, really messed this up.
W: Well, I don’t really have sympathy for you right now, because that’s pretty fucked up. So, being that I’m not full of words of wisdom for you, is there anything else I can do for you?
B: Yes. I can’t stop thinking about her. I just want to call her, but she doesn’t want me. So, can I call you instead? You know, so I don’t call her?

Well, wasn’t that convenient? I needed someone to take my mind off Cayden, and he needed someone to take his mind off Rae. I knew I had to be careful though, because we were both vulnerable, and I was about to move back to Texas, where we’d be living in the same city. Sounded like a perfect set up for some really bad ideas down the road.

W: Of course, call me whenever you’d like.

My phone rang.

----

My roommates threw me the best going away party I could have asked for. We all dressed up and went out to a fancy restaurant none of us could afford. Then we threw a huge bash on our roof. Everyone came. That night, we had the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen in my time in NYC. Hell, it was the prettiest sunset I’d seen in my life. It symbolized a beautiful ending. An ending to my time in NYC. An ending to me and Cayden.



After the party, I wanted nothing more than to email Cayden to tell him all about it.

So I called Brady.

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.

14. Sweet Little Lies

Was I interested in the job? I don't know. Yes, I told the editor I was interested; that's just the way we play the game. I liked living in New York, but did I have my heart set on living there? No. Unlike most journalists, NYC was never my goal. It may be the magazine capital of the U.S., but I didn't care. I loved Texas. I remember one time when I was a junior in college, I was in the Big Apple for a group trip to tour magazines. I was with one of my best friends, mentors, and previous editor, Gayle. I distinctly remember we were standing in Central Park, drinking coffee on a bridge, when she looked at me and said, "I don't want to live here. I'd be perfectly happy working at a big-city magazine in Texas. This isn't for me."
I took a look around. The trees were turning from green to gold, and I could hear the wind whistling through them. But behind that I heard the taxis honking, bringing me back to reality.
"Me neither." I said, and meant it.

So, how did I end up there? I graduated. All throughout college we were told if we did everything right, set ourselves apart, went above and beyond, we'd get hired before or soon after we walked across the stage. Well, that was bullshit if I ever heard it. I graduated Summa cum Laude, I had three national magazine internships on my resume and a handful of local ones. I applied for every magazine job in Texas. I had multiple interviews and pored over lengthy edit tests until my brain was fried. And guess what I ended up doing? I became a nanny. Three days a week I'd take care of the cutest little 3-month-old baby girl, and she was absolutely precious. Yes, I spent $80,000 on that journalism degree, and I was going to pay it back changing one diaper at a time. I really couldn't complain though. While the baby slept I'd get to read Laurell K. Hamilton books while doing crunches in the ab lounger with crappy daytime TV playing in the background. "So this is what it's like to be a graduate," I thought to myself.
Three months into my nanny career I received an interesting phone call.
"Hi, Whitney, I'm calling to see if you're still interested in the internship you applied for at our national women's health magazine."
"Of course I am!" I had no idea what internship she was talking about.
"Well, we looked over your resume and clips, and we love what we see! I'd like to set up a phone interview with an editor. You do know that the job is in New York, right?"
"Sure do. I actually have a place up there already, just looking for an excuse to move in." The lies just kept on flowing.
"Great! Let's set up a call with a senior editor named Lucia tomorrow at 2."
"Looking forward to it!"
I hung up and searched through my past sent emails, trying to figure out what the hell I was getting myself into. After all the Texas magazines rejected me, I started applying to anything and everything, whether I had heard of the publication or not. I found the email in my sent mailbox. I had applied for this job three months ago.
The phone interview with Lucia went well. I lied again about my apartment in the city and my strong desire to move there. I just really wanted to see if I'd get an offer.
A few days later the phone rang again. I got the offer. I'd work 40 hours per week at $10 an hour for 6 months. Did I accept? Oh, and could I start in two weeks? I suddenly saw it as an adventure, a challenge. Living in New York City making only $10 an hour? Let's do it!
I now faced two very big problems. I had two weeks to sell my car, my baby, my pride and joy. I loved that car. The other problem: My imaginary apartment wasn't going to come out of thin air. I wouldn't have the money to put a deposit on an apartment until my car sold. I was in quite a predicament.
I was supposed to start work Aug. 11, 2009. My car sold on Aug. 9. I jumped on a plane on the 10th and landed in LaGuardia, homeless. For some reason, I wasn't scared. I knew Craig and his mighty mighty list had my back. I hopped on Craigslist at the airport and looked for temporary housing, available that day. I found three options. I called the first one. The voice on the other end sounded friendly and encouraging.
"If you don't like it, you can always drop your bags off here and then go look at your other two options. That way you won't have to lug your bags around."
What a sweet offer. Could be a serial killer.
My taxi pulled onto Saint Marks Place, between 1st and A, and I fell in love. I didn't care if I was about to get murdered. I'd die happy. The weather was beautiful, everyone seemed to be outside, eating at an outdoor cafe or drinking on the patio of the bar. I got out of the cab and called Cole, the friendly potential serial killer.
"I'll be right down!"
I was so overwhelmed with the atmosphere on that street that I didn't think about what my last words might be.
"Whitney?"
I turned around to see an attractive blond guy with a welcoming smile holding his hand out to mine. Well, he sure didn't look like a murderer.
"That'd be me. Nice to meet you, Cole." We shook hands and I immediately wondered if he had a girlfriend.
He carried both of my bags up to the top of the fifth floor walk up before I could make it to the third carrying only my purse, wheezing and coughing. The apartment was located directly above a charming Irish bar. Awesome, I could get shitfaced and then just crawl back up to my apartment. When I finally made it to the fifth floor, red-faced and bent over at the waist, I walked inside the apartment and was pleasantly surprised. It was colorful. So colorful. The kitchen and living room shared an exposed brick wall, and the living room was painted with bright green and darker green stripes. An old antique couch sat on one side of the living room and a black leather chair on the other. A flatscreen TV hung nicely from a nail in the exposed brick. I believed this is what one might call luxury in NYC.
"And this is my room, soon to be your room if you decide to stay." While I hoped that was an invitation for a slumber party for two, I knew he'd be sleeping in his new apartment, a few doors down. I looked around the room. There was a full-size bed taking up three-fourths of the room, then there was a dresser and a closet that might fit one shoe and a jacket. One wall was painted dark crimson, and there was just enough room to walk from the door to the closet with a thin pathway between the bed and the wall.
"I'll take it."

13. Copy and Paste

"Thanks for thinking of me! Of course, I'd love to hear more about the position. Let me know what the first step is in applying. My current resume is attached. Thanks!
-Whitney"

Then I sent an email to Cayden explaining the whole situation. This is his response:
"Whitney, that's absolutely fantastic news about the offer of a job, I'm really pleased for you. You've got a huge decision to make now, a nice situation to be in though, haha. Upsides are that you would be close to your family and friends who you obviously miss, it's a higher position, it'll pay more and allow you to save, you'll get free travel to places, and it's a fun magazine, which is what you've always wanted. The downside is that you won't have that New York experience for much longer and you'll leave your friends that you've made there. I think it's definitely worth saying that you're interested and asking more about it. Once you've got all of the facts you'll be able to make a more informed decision.
I'll try and give you some advice after almost a decade of working in different jobs in different places. In most of the jobs I've done, I've liked them to start off with, but after a while that novelty wears off after about a year. Only now am I in a job that I don't hate but that's my first one out of about 8, so if a dream job comes up, I would seriously think hard about taking it. If you stayed in New York, you might want a different challenge eventually but it's whether or not there will be any more around when you come to looking. The place where you live is important, too. I lived in Cyprus with beaches etc for 3 years, but after a while I stopped liking it and had to move back home.
Only you can make the decision Whitney, and you've got to go with what you feel is right, but whatever you decide, have no regrets because that'll just wear you down. You're obviously talented and whatever you choose to do, you'll do just fine in both.
I'm a completely different person to you when it comes to family, and also prefer living in a city, so for me, i'd probably see what the company is offering, then mention to your current company that, as much as you like being there, you've had a great offer nearer to home. If they really want you, they'll pay you more or promote you.
For you though, if I'm honest, I think you should take the job in Texas. I don't know you too well, although it feels like I do haha, but one thing I do know is that you love your family very much and your friends too. If you can be around those AND have pretty much your dream job then I think you'd pretty much have nothing to feel down about in life. Not a bad situation to be in. On top of that, for that editor to get in touch with you directly, they obviously really value you and that's what you don't always get in a workplace.

Your experiences in New York will have a huge impact on your life. I think the biggest experience you'll learn from it is not to kick the ass of an English guy in a bar, when he doesn't live in the same country as you, haha.

-Cayden"


Yes, this is an actual email from Cayden, copy and pasted (with his permission of course), and yes this is how long our three-times-a-day emails were, if not longer.

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.