Bonus Chapter: Reflections with a Friend

This is Mira’s story—part fiction, part reflection, wholly honest.
(Each chapter will end with a note from her writing, signed as your trusted friend.)

Mira’s Story: Bonus Chapter
When steady love feels unfamiliar, but your body wants to learn its language anyway

Halley was already two sips into her glass of wine when Mira slid into the booth. The place was low-lit, with deep u-shaped booths and a chalkboard that always had offbeat quotes. Today’s said, “Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get stuck in jet engines.”

Their spot. A regular girl-date spot. Where they caught up on life, unraveled feelings, told the truth out loud and laughed until one of them, usually Mira, snorted.

This was their ritual. They’d been doing it for years. Loving one another in ways that paved the way for romantic love to feel like a possibility again.

“You’re late,” Halley said, raising an eyebrow. “Which is fine, because I’ve already diagnosed myself with three emotional disorders since sitting down.”

Mira grinned. “Just three?”

“Slow week.”

She was joking, but Mira could tell Halley’s edges were a little sharper than usual. That fidgety energy lived in her fingers tonight—picking at the napkin, refolding it, then sipping her wine too fast.

“You okay?” Mira asked, not pushing, just curious.

Halley sighed, long and low. “I don’t know. I’ve been jumpy all day. Like, bone-deep unsettled for no clear reason.”

“Want to talk it out?”

Halley paused, then gave a tight little smile. “I tried. I journaled. Meditated. Did that dumb somatic release video you sent me. Still ended up panic-scrolling real estate listings in Costa Rica at 2 a.m.”

Mira smiled gently. “Classic flight response. Was it at least a beachfront panic?”

“Obviously.”

A beat.

“I’m just so tired of that in-between, you know?” Halley finally said. “That in-between space… between meeting someone and actually feeling safe? That’s where all the worst stuff lives….uncertainty, projection, heartbreak. It’s where I unravel.”

She paused, taking another sip of her wine before continuing. And, for some reason, my life seems to be filled with what I hate most… a whole lot of in-betweeness.”

Mira stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“I’m not who I was five years ago, but I’m not fully someone new either. My job’s fine, but it’s not it. My body’s changing and I don’t know how to feel about it. My kid’s getting older, and it feels like there’s this chasm between us. I’m trying to get this parenting thing right, but just figuring it out as I go.”

She exhaled. “It’s like I’m standing in a hallway where all the doors are cracked open, but none of them are quite right. And I keep thinking if I just choose one, everything will get clearer. But I don’t trust any of the rooms. And that… makes liking someone feel like one more decision I’m not ready to get wrong.”

Mira nodded. “That’s the most vulnerable place to be.”

Halley swirled her wine. “Yeah. And I hate it. So I skip it. I take the wheel back. Control something. Distance helps me feel safe.”

Mira reached across and touched her hand. “You grew up needing to stay in control to stay safe. It makes sense.”

Halley shrugged, quiet now. “I know. I just wish it didn’t make liking someone feel like such a threat.”

Mira didn’t rush to respond. Just gave her hand a small squeeze before letting go.

Halley looked down at the table, then blew out a slow breath. “Anywaaaay.”

Her voice lifted, light but practiced. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just confess my deep existential dread in public.”

She gave a quick shake of her head and upper body, like she was physically shedding the moment.

Mira smiled, not pushing. She knew the tone shift was a signal that Halley had said enough for now.

“Okay,” Halley said, pouring a glass of wine for Mira and topping off her own glass. “Am I crazy, or do I look like a sea witch in this lighting?”

“You look like a woman who charges for clarity and conjures orgasms with eye contact,” Mira replied with a grin.

Halley laughed, tossing her head back in a way that only she could make beautiful. “Perfect. That’s what I was going for.”

They ordered a small plate to share and fell into easy conversation. Work. Kids. Halley’s last situationship.

“He was nice,” Halley said. “Soft-spoken. Steady. Everything I say I want. And then…”

She made a gesture like a plane nose-diving.

“What happened?” Mira asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Halley admitted. “I started liking him… and then I panicked. Liking isn’t safe. It opens the door…. well, to wondering,” she rolled her eyes, “and then suddenly everything he did made my skin itch. His laugh? Too eager. His texts? Too available. And I knew, like knew, that the moment he really saw me, he’d change his mind. So I beat him to it.”

Mira winced. “That’s brutal.”

Halley shrugged. “It’s textbook me. Nervous system gets spooked. That in-between space of meeting and actually safe? I lose it. Say it’s not a fit, even when it kind of was.”

“But you’re owning it now,” Mira said. “That’s something.”

“Yeah,” Halley sighed. “And being with someone who’s actually kind? Turns out that triggers a lot of old shit.”

Mira nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”

Halley looked at her, suddenly alert. “Wait. You do?”

Mira smiled, soft and a little sheepish. “It’s been… different lately. With Rowan. Steady. Uncomplicated. But in a way that feels sooooo unfamiliar. Like my body doesn’t know how to relax into something that’s not a roller coaster.”

Halley grinned. “Look at us. Dating emotionally available men and losing our minds.”

They clinked glasses.

Mira laughed, then tilted her head. “But seriously, Halley. Are you okay?”

Halley held her gaze for a moment, then exhaled. “Honestly? I just needed to see you. Be reminded that it’s okay to let someone in. Even if it terrifies me.”

“Well, you let him in more than you think, and that’s progress. We celebrate progress. Even when it’s the microscopic kind. I know how much giving that inch cost you. You’re growing.”

“So are you,” Halley said, nudging her. “Now, give me the goods. Rowan update, pronto. In excruciating detail. Don’t make me beg.”

Mira reached for a fry, chewing slowly before answering. Something about the way Halley looked at her, both teasing but also completely available, made her want to share.

“We’ve gone on a few dates since that first kiss. Every time I don’t think I could like him more… but, then I do.”

She smiled into her glass. “There was the bookstore date where he insisted we each find a book the other had to read. We made it a book club for two. And this other one where we went grocery shopping but only picked ingredients that started with a ‘W.’ Which, for the record, makes for a very weird dinner. Walnuts, watermelon, wheat crackers, white cheddar, and wine. Obviously.”

Halley laughed, and Mira grinned before continuing.

“Another night, we just sat on his porch while Pepper made a mess of sidewalk chalk. And I’m pretty sure she likes him. She isn’t as hard on him as she’s been with guys in the past. She won’t admit it, but that whole sidewalk drawing? It was Rowan’s house. She even added a garden and a crooked little mailbox. He told her it was better than anything he’d built in real life. She blushed. I pretended not to notice.”

She paused, eyes distant in that dreamy, half-smiling way.

She laughed. “And I didn’t expect to laugh so much. He’s got this dry, subtle humor… like, the other day he asked if I’d read my blog posts in my sexy narrator voice while he cooked me dinner. Deadpan. I choked on my tea.”

Halley cracked up. “Okay, I like him.”

“And we talk. About his podcast. My writing. Dreams. Like, the real kind. How being a human is both brilliant and weird. About the mile markers in our lives that shaped us the most into who we are.
Then there was this whole conversation about the weird rituals that seemed normal growing up. Like, he told me he always remembered bras in the bathroom sink—at his grandma’s, and then at home with his mom until she passed. He said it’s one of those strange things he didn’t realize he missed until it was gone. We laughed about how you don’t even think those things are weird until someone else points them out. But it stuck with me. Like, who shares that on a date?”

“Mira! You’re catching feelings,” Halley grinned. Then, softer: “Also, that’s kind of beautiful… the fact that he shared that with you. That’s not just comfort. That’s trust.” She raised an eyebrow. “You better keep this one. Or at least write him into something sexy.”

“I mean… yeah. And it’s not just the soft stuff,” Mira added, swirling her wine. “He’s started flirting more in texts. Still thoughtful, but with some spice. Like, yesterday he sent me a message asking if he could be ‘uncouth.’”

She made air quotes. “Uncouth, Halley. And of course I said, ‘absofuckinglutely.’”
She laughed. “Then he asked if someday he could bite my ass—‘asking for a friend.’”
Halley choked on her wine. “No he didn’t.”

“He did. I told him we’d have to draft a contractual agreement allowing me full, unfettered access to his arms in return.”

Halley leaned in, eyes wide. “Please tell me you actually wrote that contract.”

“Oh, I did. I titled it the ‘Buns and Biceps Access Agreement.’ Full terms and conditions. Mutual biting clause included.”

Halley was doubled over. “You’re ridiculous. And honestly? I love this for you.”

Mira grinned. “It’s just… refreshing. He doesn’t make it weird or pushy. It’s like he’s paying attention to me, the whole me. And yeah, he thinks I’m hot, but he says it in a way that feels like admiration, not appetite.”

Halley sat up, nodding. “That’s the difference. It’s not objectification, it’s devotion. With a little ass-biting on the side.”

“Exactly.”

“God, finally some joy in your dating life.”

Mira smiled. “I know. And when he kisses me now…” Mira mimed melting into a puddle onto the table. “It’s real. Like he’s finally letting himself lean in. There was this moment in his kitchen, after he showed me this ridiculous photo of a failed chili recipe, and I laughed so hard I almost cried. Then he kissed me like he was starving for it.”

She paused, warmth creeping up her neck. “And I couldn’t stop. I wanted to tug his hair, bite his lip just to hear him groan into my mouth. It’s not like I’m holding back anymore.”

Halley tilted her head. “So… have you two…?” She waggled her brows. “Signed the buns-and-biceps agreement in person?”

Mira shook her head, cheeks warm. “Not yet. I told myself I’d wait until I felt emotionally safe. And… I do. I think I’m ready. But I’m also not rushing it. I want it to mean something.”

Halley softened. “That’s beautiful, Mira. Honestly.”

“It’s just…it’s different this time, and I don’t want to rush the steps. I want to relish them. It’s soooo good, but also, I find myself realizing I’m not as healed as I thought I was. This thing with Rowan is stirring so much up.”

Halley nodded like she’d been waiting for this. “That’s what real connection does. It’s like a mirror and a magnifying glass… and there are certain things that can only ever really be seen and healed in relationship.”

“I keep catching myself reaching. Not in a bad way, but in an old way. Like… am I texting him because I want to? Or because I want a response that will ground me?”

Halley raised an eyebrow. “The age-old question: is this connection or control?”

“Exactly,” Mira said with a sigh. “But… the good news is that I’m not spiraling. So, that’s a win.”

Halley held up her glass. “We need to cheers to that, Mira. You’re noticing and that’s growth.”

Mira clinked her glass against Halley’s with a smirk. “Yes, but it’s still exhausting. I’ve realized how much of my identity used to be built around being ‘easy to love.’”

“Mira, babe,” Halley smirked. “You are many things, but easy isn’t one of them.”

They both laughed.

Mira sipped her wine. “It’s just… when someone actually shows up, I don’t know what to do with it. I want to lean in, but there’s this old reflex to overfunction. Like, if I do more, it’ll feel safer.”

“Let yourself receive, my friend. Receive the love you so easily give.”

Mira crossed her arms in front of her and flopped her head down onto them with a dramatic flair. Speaking into her arms, “but it’s sooooo haaaarrrd.”

“We all have different versions of hard in relationships. Look at me, running from real in a panic.”

Mira raised her head and gave her a look. “And here I thought I was the dramatic one.”

Halley raised a glass. “We’re different flavors of triggered.” They laughed again, but this time it landed with a little more weight.

“I used to think I was healed because I wasn’t chasing anyone, trying to convince them to love me… that I was lovable,” Mira said. “But now I’m realizing the healing is in the pause. In the choice not to chase. Not to curate. To just… exist. To let someone hold space with me, not for me. And, for some reason, that is really damn hard.”

Halley studied her. “Do you feel like you’re doing that with Rowan?”

“Most days. But it takes work. Intentional work. There’s still that voice in my head. The one that asks if I’ve said too much, if I’m asking for too much, if I’m more invested than he is. That voice that tries to tally up all the give-and-take like it’s keeping score.”

Halley held up a hand. “Okay, first of all, if I had a dollar for every time you overanalyzed a text I could retire.” Then she softened, gave a knowing smile. “You used to send those long, thoughtful messages to keep the thread alive with that one guy…what was his name? The one who traveled a lot for work?”

“Chris,” Mira said, rolling her eyes. “God, yes. I filled every silence so I wouldn’t have to feel the absence. I didn’t give it time to see how he showed up on his own.”

“And now?” Halley asked.

“Now, I let the silence be a teacher,” Mira said softly. “And sometimes it tells me more than a message ever could.”

Halley nodded with gentle approval. “You’re not just rewriting your patterns. You’re reclaiming your peace. You used to work so hard for closeness, Mira. Half the healing is learning how to stay still and let it find you.”

“Yes, but I still wish that voice wouldn’t keep popping up in my head,” Mira said with a scowl.

Halley leaned in, eyes wide, and dropped her voice into an exaggerated, sing-song tone. “And what do we do when that mean voice gets loud?”

Mira smiled. “I remind myself that I don’t need to be an emotional concierge. And then I sit on my hands and eat a muffin instead.”

Halley cracked up, her smile bright and radiant. “Progress looks delicious on you.”

“Better than texting for validation.”

“Preach,” Halley said. “Now pass me a metaphorical muffin.”

Halley paused and looked at Mira carefully. “So, how is this all sitting in your body?”

Mira laughed. “Like I keep waiting for the drama. The sudden pullback. The reveal. But instead, I get updates about his dad’s medical appointments. Photos of the chili he’s trying to perfect. A text that just says ‘miss your face.’ It’s disorienting. But in a good way?”

Halley nodded. “That’s the good kind of unfamiliar.”

Mira tipped her head. “I think I used to confuse passion with tension. Now, when there’s no anxiety, I wonder if it’s real.”

Halley’s smile was small, but knowing. “I think it’s real when you stop bracing.”

They sat in quiet understanding for a beat, sipping, breathing.

Mira ran a finger along the rim of her glass. “I’m still bracing, though. Not because anything’s wrong. But… because I’ve been trained to. My body still waits for that shift, even when my mind knows it’s safe.”

Halley nodded. “That doesn’t mean it’s not real. It means you’re still learning how to let it in.”

Mira nodded, looking into her wine.

“Also,” Halley added, “if you make out with him against a tree again, I expect photos.”

Mira nearly spit her wine.

The night was filled with laughter and truth bombs. They shared a sense of knowing they were both works in progress. But they had a safe container to share it, and language to put it to words.

Before they parted ways, Halley gave her a long hug. “You’re not just choosing better, Mira. You’re showing up better. That matters.”

She pulled back, smirking, but her eyes softened. “Hell, if someone actually tried to stay with me, I’d probably change my number.”

Mira laughed. “We can only tackle one pattern at a time, babe. We’ll save that one for next.” She squeezed Halley’s hand. “And hey, thanks for seeing me. Witnessing all this growth. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Halley gave her a half-smile, full of love. “Samsie’s, girl. Also, you’re practically a different person from when we met twelve years ago. I’m proud of you.”

They didn’t solve everything that night. But they didn’t need to.

Sometimes, healing looks like catching yourself before the spiral. And other times? It just looks like sitting in good company, telling the truth, and laughing your way back to center.

Later that night, Mira sent a text to Rowan:
“No reason other than I wanted to. Miss your face too.”

She meant it just like that, without needing anything in return.

---

Letters from The Clever Confidante: “In Case You Forgot”
How quiet consistency might just be the wildest kind of love

I don’t know what I’d do without my friendships.
The people who keep me grounded when my mind spirals and my nervous system forgets it’s safe.
The ones who call me back to myself when I’m overthinking a text.
Who’ve seen me at my most chaotic and still choose to show up.

The people who gently… well, okay, sometimes not so gently… call me out when I’m slipping into old patterns. Who remind me that healing doesn’t always look graceful, but it does look like progress. Who don’t just love who I’m becoming, they love me while I become.

These are the ones who know what kind of look means “I’m spiraling” and which sigh means “I’m okay but need a minute.”
Who ask, “And what do we do when the voice gets loud?” with a smirk and a hand on your shoulder.

It’s everything to have a tribe like that.
People you trust. People you can be your full, flawed, human self with.
People you love unconditionally, and maybe more importantly, people you can love unconditionally. Because they don’t ask you to earn it.

They understand you in ways that don’t always require words.
And when you forget who you are, they remind you with a glance, a joke, a hug that lasts a few seconds longer.

Find those people. Keep them close.
Text them just to say you’re grateful. Laugh with them. Let them see you. Let them hold you, not just when you fall apart, but when you quietly hold it together.

Love doesn’t only live in the big, dramatic moments.
Sometimes, it lives in steady hands and knowing eyes.
In wine shared over truth bombs. In sidewalk chalk and spooning contracts.
In the kind of love—platonic, romantic, or somewhere in between—that stays when it’s easier to run.

Always,
Your Trusted Friend 🖤

Have you ever had to retrain your nervous system to recognize safe love?
What does “steady” feel like in your body and do you let yourself rest there?
(Leave it in the comments—or whisper it to the part of you that’s learning how to soften without losing yourself. She’s listening.)

☁️ New here? You can start Mira’s Story from the beginning with Chapter Zero.

➡️✨ Continue Mira’s Story with Chapter Nineteen: A Place to Land

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