Chapter 11

As March began, June struggled to focus on anything but the euphoria that continued to surface since setting the boundary with Donna. She’d made an emergency call to Dr. Saeed, her psychiatrist since the bipolar diagnosis, explaining her symptoms—her racing heart, her inability to sleep, and the euphoric high that just wouldn’t go away. Dr. Saeed’s assistant had scheduled her for a phone appointment on Saturday night, though June had hoped for something sooner. How could what felt like a crisis to her be pushed to the weekend?

By Wednesday, she and Donna met for dinner at Tandoori Terrace, a favorite spot. Deciding to sit at the bar, they ordered drinks, and Donna—as usual—charmed the bartender with her wit and easy conversation. June, feeling the familiar euphoria stir beneath the surface, joined in the banter but limited herself to one drink. The two women were trying to keep things light, but the air between them felt tense, charged with the weight of their past.

As they sipped their drinks, June shared the news about an email she’d received from her old success coach at Great Lakes University at Bayport, David Kent. He informed her about a new graduate certificate in data science, and surprisingly, June was only one class away from completing it. Donna had always been a big part of June's decision to pursue a master's degree in data science in the first place. Her passion for data had been infectious, and it reignited June’s own love for numbers and analytics.

"I don't know if I'll finish it," June admitted, the bittersweetness of her situation creeping in. "I mean, I’d have to balance everything again—work, the kids, this chaos with my mental health. But at least it’s an option."

Donna listened, nodding. “You should do it,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. She seemed distracted, like something was weighing on her mind.

It was then that Donna started commenting on how cold she was, how she couldn’t get warm no matter what. June found the role reversal amusing—Donna, usually so warm and tactile, was suddenly the one feeling as cold as June usually did. At one point, Donna placed her hand on June’s, laughing nervously as she pulled it back. "I’m not trying to hold your hand," she joked, but something about the gesture stuck with June. Was Donna testing the boundaries she’d so carefully set just a week ago?

Despite the effort to keep things light, June sensed the weight of their unspoken history pressing down on them, yet paradoxically, she felt lighter than ever. She couldn’t shake the strange high she’d been riding, a deep sense of peace that lingered beneath the surface of their conversation. It was like the calm before a storm, except this time, the storm felt like it was inside her—a strange brew of emotions she couldn’t quite name, but could definitely feel.

When they parted for the night, she gave Donna a "mom hug," just as they had agreed when setting their new boundaries. But as she drove home, the euphoric feelings surged, leaving her feeling unnerved by the intensity of her own emotions.

June had already spoken to Solin, her therapist, about these feelings, and she had scheduled the emergency visit with Dr. Saeed. She hoped the psychiatrist could help her navigate this surge of emotions without resorting to daily medication again. But in the meantime, she had no appetite, no desire to sleep, and no idea what was causing these familiar but misplaced feelings of deep love and peace.

That night, she brought the leftovers home from Tandoori Terrace, barely touching her food at the restaurant. When she got home, she settled into her nightly routine. The kids’ devices had already shut down, as programmed by Hadrian, and June moved from room to room, tucking each one in. The familiar routine helped ground her, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Donna and the strange encounter at dinner.

Once the kids were asleep and Hadrian was in bed watching TV, June tried to settle her own thoughts. She had no desire to sleep lately. It was a familiar feeling, though out of context. In the past, new romance would keep her and a lover awake at all hours of the night, talking, exploring the connection, barely sleeping, yet somehow still functioning during the day. This felt very similar, except now there was no "other." No new lover. What was going on?

The sense of euphoria without cause puzzled her. Normally, there was something—excitement, love, infatuation—to explain it, but this time it seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

She remembered the calming meditations on the Headspace app that GeoMetric had recently endorsed as part of their wellness program, and decided to try them. Surprisingly, the meditations worked, and she fell asleep earlier than usual, avoiding the restless, sleepless nights that had plagued her recently. But the next morning, she awoke with a start, troubled by the interaction with Donna. The way Donna had placed her hand on hers—was that a test of the boundaries?

As soon as she logged into work, her thoughts kept returning to the night before. Was Donna testing her? Was June imagining things? The weight of these thoughts was distracting her, so she decided to confront Donna head-on. She composed an email addressing the moment with the cold hands, asking Donna directly if she had been testing the boundary they had set.

June hit send on the email, her fingers trembling slightly as she did. It felt like a release, like she was finally stepping toward the resolution she so desperately needed. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, and this email was an attempt to sift through the chaos, to find clarity.

June also resent an old email, subject line "Reframing." That email had been such a significant turning point in their friendship—perhaps the first time Donna had openly acknowledged the imbalance in their dynamic, the obsessive way she’d pursued June. And now, years later, June was bringing that moment back into focus.

The original "Reframing" email had come after their night together in River Dell, a night that Hadrian had explicitly given his blessing for, allowing June to explore the complexities of her relationship with Donna. It had been a night filled with awkwardness rather than passion, a night that left June more confused than fulfilled. And just days later, when June tried to establish some space, Donna’s response was overwhelming, as it often was.

June remembered reading that email for the first time. Donna’s words were drenched in self-deprecation and regret. She had described her pursuit of June as obsessive, admitting that she had pushed boundaries too far, too quickly. The phrases "emotionally vomited all over it" and "drowned the friendship" had stuck with June, highlighting just how intense Donna’s attachment had become. But at the same time, Donna’s apologies had also come with declarations of gratitude, expressing how much she had learned from the experience, how much she had cherished the connection they shared.

It had been a strange email—both a mea culpa and a love letter wrapped into one. And yet, it hadn’t been enough. Not back then, and not now. June had responded graciously at the time, acknowledging her own part in the tangled mess they found themselves in, apologizing for not being clear enough from the beginning. But somehow, that boundary had slipped, eroded over the years by repeated moments of weakness, by the emotional intensity that Donna brought into every interaction.

Now, as March 2022 unfolded, June felt the weight of that history pressing down on her more than ever. It wasn’t just the old feelings of confusion and guilt resurfacing—it was the realization that this cycle had been repeating itself for nearly six years. She had tried to set this boundary once before, and yet here she was, attempting to do it again. Would it work this time? Or would she be pulled back in once more by Donna’s relentless persistence?

Her inbox pinged, breaking her from her thoughts. She opened the email, but it was just a work reminder, nothing from Donna yet. That was fine. She didn’t expect an immediate response; she just needed to get the words out there, to feel like she was taking control of her own story again.

I've been havin' dreams

Jumpin' on a trampoline

Flippin' in the air

I never land, just float there

As I'm looking up

Suddenly the sky erupts

Flames alight the trees

Spread to fallin' leaves

Now they're right upon me

Wait if I'm on fire

How am I so deep in love?

When I dream of dying

I never feel so loved

I've been having dreams

Splashin' in a summer stream

Trip and I fall in

I wanted it to happen

My body turns to ice

Crushin' weight of paradise

Solid block of gold

Lying in the cold

I feel right at home

Trampoline, Shaed