The Doc Still Says No Rush

her doc's still open in my other tab. the recommendation letter, the fellowship, the one i also applied for and didn't get. she made it three weeks ago with a note at the top, no rush!!, two exclamation points, like she knows exactly how much time she's giving me and wants me to feel good about it anyway.

i've opened it eleven times tonight. i've typed the same first line five different ways. sarah brings such warmth and rigor, sarah is one of the most, sarah has always. i keep deleting her name like if i don't write it enough it stops being about her specifically and starts being about the idea of a good candidate, which is easier to be generous to.

the truth is small and embarrassing. i wanted this one. i wanted it before she even applied, and when the rejection came i told her congrats with a real exclamation point of my own, and i meant it, mostly, the way you mean things you've decided to mean.

the cursor's still blinking in the empty paragraph. coffee's gone cold at my elbow. i could write the honest version, that i'm proud of her and it costs me something every time i say so. instead i type a sentence about her attention to detail, read it twice, and close the laptop before i can decide if it's true.