Sarah Nyhan

I really feel stupid and silly trying to continue writing this book. And I now know I don’t have to. But it wants to be written. And won’t leave me alone until I finish. Why? I’m not entirely sure yet. But here is some more as I try to get it done. “Confess… so that you may be healed.”

—–

We talked at the church first. Then at the coffee place across the street. But early on you seemed to pick a new place every time. Which added to the fun. You showed me lots of restaurants. Introduced me to many for the first time. I used to be that person in most of my friend groups. But you one-upped me so many times in that regard. Spending time with you in town seemed like an adventure over and over. I had lived there for years but you made me discover a city I never knew. That had been hiding in plain sight all along.

There was Koreana off Harry Wurzbach where you introduced me to kimchi and a host of other pickled things that I never had before.

There was Arirang off Austin Highway. Another small little place that I would have been scared to try on my own.

You introduced me to Green with their vegetarian Tex-Mex cuisine. I think that was also my first time at the Pearl.

You introduced me to Pho Nguyen off 281. Where you advised me try the bahn mi. Which is still one of my favorite Vietnamese foods to order. But it feels cruel that you still come to mind every time.

You took me to the Indian buffet off Wurzbach Parkway back when it was still in business. The place was so authentic that none of the signs for the food were in English. But that’s where I ate the best green beans I’ve ever had in my life. And am still searching for a recipe to make them.

How can I forget you taking me to Pasha Grill and Jerusalem Grill? Where I tried real naan for the first time. With the oil and spices. And then the cool yogurt dips.

You also took me to your little spot on Medical: Jasmine Thai. And Dahlia Thai on Fredericksburg. Where I tried and loved the Tom Yum soup for the first time.

You took me to Azro on Military for Afghan cuisine. My first ever time trying that.

Sometimes you were in the mood for Greek and took me to Mina & Dimi’s over by Lackland. Or John the Greek off Thousand Oaks. Which was in the same shopping center as First Watch. Where you invited me along as you met with I believe your bookkeeping lady and her husband. For a business meeting it seemed. I didn’t know why you wanted me there, but I felt honored that you trusted me enough to want me along. To introduce me to your people. Ones outside our mutual circle at CCSA.

You are the one who introduced me to the Alon when you took me to El Mirasol for my first time. The salsa and shrimp tacos were so good. But the conversation was always the better and best part. We went on to walk around that shopping center and have intense conversations at that place so many times. Our neutral ground we could almost always come back to. Lots of good memories. You took me upstairs and showed me the backside where I have captured some of my best sunset shots.

Guajillo’s on Blanco. Also my first time there with you. And many conversations. The one that triggered so much between us. Where you encouraged me to accept an offer of mentorship from one of my professors. That would turn into a whole thing. Much bigger than I ever expected. Or eventually even want. Especially because of how it later came between us. When you’re the one who fought so hard for it in the beginning. I remember we were there for two hours that day. And you only finally convinced me when you agreed to be there for me if it went bad. Painfully ironic that the mentorship greatly contributed to our distance before that time.

You took me to Moroccan Bites off Evers. I can’t remember if this was before or after Arlene had invited me there. But you encouraged me to try the Turkish coffee. Which I had never had before. Probably maybe only the second coffee I’ve ever had in my life. The only one I ever liked. And the baklava there is still one of my favorites.

It was really cool how you got along with the ladies who own and ran the place. Eventually you’d write something for them and ask me to look it over before sending. You wanted spiritual freedom for them and we prayed together for that many times.

You took me to Thai Cafe off Perrin Beitel. Back when they had the amazing lunch buffet. Where I learned to love the Yam Nua.

I can’t go in there without thinking of you. And about how we were sitting in the corner one day when you out of the blue asked me if I had ever been sexually abused. Only the second person in my entire life, outside of professionals, to ever have the courage to ask me that. And so directly. I was surprised.

That was really the first time I ever talked about it at length with anyone. Which even then wasn’t very long. But you listened and asked questions. You didn’t run away. You kept looking me in the face. You didn’t ditch me in disgust.

That’s when you told me that the first time you met me in your clinic you thought I acted like an abused dog.

We’d revisit that topic a few more times on our drives. Once even staying in town wasn’t enough.

One of the first was when you took me all the way out off 90. Nearly to that road that leads to Leakey. To the burger spot where the ladies from CCSA always went on the way to the retreats.

Well over an hour out of town. In the dark for the first time. I was scared at first. Because this for sure wasn’t just coffee before church anymore. We were definitely hanging out. A trip out of town was not necessary. Maybe it meant you enjoyed my company?

What if you regretted it once we were already well on the way? That would be awkward. But then God gave me one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen as you drove us on. It accompanied us almost the whole way as we were driving westward. And calmed my nerves. Gave me peace. Everything would be okay.