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Grady deleted the last two sentences and started over. It was the fourth time that he’d done that. He wanted to make sure that he impressed upon any of Erika’s future boyfriends that she was a patient and supportive, but he also wanted to be careful not to in any way give them license to treat her like a doormat. And he’d already used “laid back” in the first paragraph of the letter. Grady rubbed his eyes and wondered what Erika was writing in her letter about him. Hopefully she was emphasizing his openness to trying new things. After Erika, Grady wanted to have a more purely fun relationship before trying something serious again. Maybe even a couple of very brief flings that wouldn’t even require a reference letter of recommendation when they were over. Of course, that wasn’t the kind of thing that you say at a breakup if you wanted a decent letter from your ex.
Drew pulled out his phone and brought up the KindWords app. Savannah, his first “real” girlfriend was listed as “off the market” rather than “with someone”, which seemed about right for her. Grady remembered writing that letter of recommendation. He cringed to think of some of the lines. “Not just hot but awesome, too,” had been the title he’d used. In all fairness, her letter for him was titled “Solid guy, good kisser.” But anyone reading that now would recognize the review as being written by a young woman about a young man. If they read the next few reviews, they would have to recognize that he had grown. Christina had noticed his “dependability,” and Aimee had spent an entire paragraph discussing how attentive and considerate he was. Although he hadn’t really enjoyed doing it, Grady knew that the back rubs he’d given would pay off in the long run, whether it was in a long-term relationship with her or in the letter.
Grady looked up Aimee’s profile. She was single. It looked like she’d only had one relationship since they split up. The review (written by Alex Gravitz) described her as “reasonable in most ways,” and “kind of cool.” It was only two paragraphs long. Grady shook his head and wondered what the hell must have happened between the two of them. Drew and Aimee had had their arguments, but they always made up, and they’d parted on good terms after she’d graduated and moved three states away to go to medical school. Grady looked at Alex Gravitz’s profile. Aimee’s review for him ended with, “You’ll know pretty quickly if he’s for you or not. Trust your instincts, ladies.” An earlier review included the line, “I don’t know. Maybe my head was just in the wrong place when we were together.” Grady chuckled. Thankfully, he’d never had a reference like that.
Grady went to refill his coffee. He didn’t want to churn out the letter too quickly, implying that he hadn’t thought it through, but he also didn’t want to leave it hanging for too long. If he could get a rough draft done today, he could set it aside for a day or two and have it ready and posted by next Wednesday. That would be fair and reasonable.
As he brought his coffee back to the laptop, Grady tried to think about specific moments from his and Erika’s relationship. Most of the really good references that he’d read tended to be clear and specific. “Cool” just meant “I don’t care enough to say much,” and “nice” meant “we never got serious enough to have any real fights,” though if that was good or bad was usually unclear. In the case of he and Erika, they’d definitely had their squabbles, but they always made a point of acknowledging each other’s perspectives. Now how to say that in the relatively short context of KindWords’s descriptions. Particularly because his reference for Erika would reflect on him as well. How would any guy reading Aimee’s reflection on Alex think about her? The issue that this presented Grady with was that any specific conflict he discussed might paint him as either slightly unreasonable or too wishy washy.
Grady sipped his coffee and decided that it would be best to just focus on positive experiences. He began typing. “Erika and I first agreed to meet at a coffee shop, which was thoughtful of her. No big expenditure, easy to leave if things didn’t go well. Not like a fancy dinner where we might be trapped waiting for a check.” He sighed and deleted this, too. It was a good idea in principle, but he might seem cheap or awkward to anyone reading this. He tried again. “I can remember our first date well. It was casual (we met in a coffee shop), but from early on, I knew that Erika was someone special.” Grady reread what he wrote. A little bland, but not terrible. Now he needed to discuss why she was special.
Grady felt a little bad doing it, but he looked at some of the older references for Erika, trying to remember what had made him interested in the first place. One talked about her laugh, which was nice (the reviewer, Reggie, had referred to it as “uninhibited,” which wasn’t wrong but did feel like it was trying a little too hard). Another talked about how her broad interest in movies made it easy to find things to do with her. That made Grady wonder if he should’ve taken Erika to the movies more. Was she, right now, warning future women in Grady’s life that he wasn’t enthusiastic enough about films? That he wasn’t someone who would be able to pick up on and share their interests? Or had Grady been right in his interactions and this former boyfriend didn’t know Erika as well as he thought?
Grady shook his head. He couldn’t afford to get sucked into paranoid fantasies or pointless speculation. Erika had never given any indication that she was anything other than trustworthy, and when they’d last met to return things (some favorite clothing items, for instance, left at each other’s places), they’d both agreed to write overwhelmingly positive references for each other. While they might privately lodge some complaints about the other, they both understood how damaging a bad review would be for the other’s future.
Grady decided to look all the way back to Erika’s first reference. A few sentences in, he remembered it. The ex-boyfriend (Jimmy Calhoun) had left a weepy, self pitying reference that treated Erika like a goddess but that probably doomed Jimmy to single life for years. Who would want to date a man who described his ex as “a paragon” and said that “her next man will be incredibly lucky and should be aware of that fact.” Pathetic.
Grady tried to think about what it had been like to date without the guidance of KindWords, when he’d just been a teenager having to trust his instincts and ignore his hormones. He didn’t miss it. At the time, it did seem kind of exciting, trying to navigate the dangerous waters of teen dating while also having the freedom to totally invent himself, not having any profile to have to either live up to or try to disprove. Now though, he didn’t have either the time or patience to be steering the boat with no compass.
All the ocean and water metaphors rolling around his head made him think that maybe he should say that if he was trapped on a desert island, he’d want the other person on the island to be Erika. He even started to type it, but then he deleted it. That sounded like he’d pulled it from a “how to write a good KindWords reference” video from YouTube. And not a good one.
Grady went back to his own profile. He and Erika had both set their status to “single”. As Grady looked at his profile, he was shocked to see that Erika had already posted her reference. Grady read it. Twice. It was very kind (she described him as “thoughtful but funny,” and “considerate without being stiff or awkward”). On the first read, Grady felt deeply flattered. While there were often a bit more kind than accurate, this felt honest while still being complementary. Grady almost felt like crying.
He immediately went back to Erika’s reference. His first impulse was that he now had to write the best, most helpful letter that he’d ever written. He felt a bit frozen at that. But as he thought about it more, Grady began to wonder if Erika would have been able to write such a glowing recommendation, particularly in the time immediately after their breakup. What Grady began to suspect was that Erika had either seen the breakup coming long before he did or had expected it to come from the beginning. What if she’d put in little compliments not after the relationship was done but instead right after their happiest moments together? If that was the case, then the two of them would have been in different relationships the whole time they were “together”, her always putting their experiences into past tense while he was trying to keep it in the present. Grady felt numb.
Of course, even if this is what happened, he’d be incredibly naive to think that Erika would be the first or the only person to do this. He felt terrified to look through his old letters again, certain that he’d find evidence of other premature breakups. Grady felt ashamed of himself for not realizing that this must have happened. But even he shouldn’t think of himself in so pure a way. He had been thinking just moments ago about the brief relationship that he’d have next. Wouldn’t he be thinking about what he would say, how much he could trust this “fun” person?
He went back to Erika’s letter of recommendation. He felt like writing “unusually savvy” or “most strategic person I’ve ever dated.” He had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He couldn’t think about Erika, the person who posted a clearly prewritten letter. Grady had to think of Erika the person who had gone with him to a Simpsons-themed trivia contest, who had prepared late breakfasts with him on weekends. He opened his eyes and read what he had from the beginning. His letter seemed weak by comparison, but it was mostly honesty. He decided that he would imagine what Erika would say. He tried to hear her voice telling him what to say. And it came to him. In small but steady pieces, he figured out what he was going to say.
Zeke Jarvis is a Professor of English at Eureka College. His work has appeared in Moon City Review, Posit, and KNOCK. His books include So Anyway..., In A Family Way, Lifelong Learning, and The Three of Them.