M: Like what?
S: Well, I kind of thought we'd talk again before....
M: Yeah, things have been a little crazy.
S: I would imagine. You don't mind this, do you?
M: No, it's fine. (pause) So how are you?
S: Surviving happily. You know, lots of change. Okay, that was dumb. You know better than I do about change right now.
M: Not as much as you'd think. I have this one major thing, but it's definite. It's all planned out and...it's kind of exhausting to talk about. It's nothing like the year you've had.
S: You leave tomorrow, right?
M: Yeah.
S: Nervous?
M: Maybe. I don't know. So much is happening now. I'm a little numb.
S: Do you ever feel like sometimes like there's no perspective on the past?
M: What do you mean?
S: Maybe it's just a sense of accomplishment, or a milestone, like you should feel like there's a measurable point in your life that you get past and then move on from...but in reality you look back -
M: And it's all a blur. It's like you're trying to find yourself on a map, but the map got wet and all of the ink has run together.
S: Yeah, exactly like that.
M: Nope. Don't know what that feels like.
S: What? Oh.
M: I'm kidding.
S: Is that just a part of getting older? I'm beginning to think I'm going crazy.
M: Well...let's not start that conversation, because what I know about you -
S: What you think you know about me.
M: Okay, true, but still.
Silence. I looked around the place we were sitting in, but she drank her coffee and looked at me a moment before continuing.
M: I think...it's different for everyone, but yeah, I feel that way sometimes.
S: It's so hard for me to rationalize this stuff because there's so much about people I don't understand.
M: People are not as complicated as you think they are. Normal ones, at least. Are some of those weird people still in your life? How about that girl who only wants to talk through texting?
S: What can I say? They're interchangeable parts. Nobody's really consistent. I do hear from some old co-workers every now and then, but I am really out here on my own little island, you know?
M: That's your choice, though.
S: Those are my standards - there's a difference.
M: You and your impossible standards.
S: Do you really think so?
M: I just can't figure out some stuff about you. You've led kind of a...different life.
S: Somewhere behind that I'm suspecting there are thoughts about me being in a relationship.
M: It's been way too long! All right, I need to catch myself because it's not my place to say anything.
S: When are we going to have another chance to talk like this? You know how this conversation has to end.
There's another moment of silence to let this sink in.
M: It doesn't have to end the way you think it will.
S: I usually begin with the end in mind.
M: But that's now how you actually work through things like this.
S: So tell me what's on your mind. You say that it's not your place, but here you are, sitting across from me. Right now, this is your place.
M: Okay. (pause) I don't think LA is good for you. I think you're surrounded by too many fake people, especially doing all of your theater stuff. Finding good friends is hard enough, but settling down and having a family is nearly impossible when you're not meeting the right kind of people.
S: Where should I go, then? China? Miami? Just because my life doesn't add up a way that makes sense to you, it doesn't mean I'm unhappy.
M: I don't think you're unhappy. I just wish you weren't...alone. I know how happy you were in a relationship, and I feel like part of you is being wasted, or lost, if you're not in one. I just hate thinking that you don't want that any more because of something I did.
S: That was a long time ago. A really long time ago. What did we figure it out to? About half a lifetime?
M: Yeah, I think that was it.
S: Didn't you already say that all this was my choice? Give me some credit.
M: You know what I'm trying to say.
S: I know what you're saying, but...listen, many years ago, I stoppped passing everything through the filter of what life would be like with you in it. I accepted what was left and built on that foundation. You still existed, but in a different way.
M: And what way was that?
S: I always hoped that you'd be proud of me if you only knew the things I did.
M: You shouldn't do anything like that for me.
S: I didn't do it for you. I did it for me. The difference is this: with every risk I took, every sacrifice I made, I thought about the one person who knows me better than every other living thing on this planet and whether or not I was betraying that knowledge of me. Once, when I was helping you get over someone, I bought some lottery tickets, those little scratcher things, and I gave one to you. You said "Oh well, unlucky in love..." You meant that it was one or the other, but you deserved to win at something.
M: I said that?
S: Yeah. It kinda hurt my feelings, because there I was, and....
M: I don't even remember saying that.
S: Well, after you, I made a bunch of those kinds of decisions. I was going to win at something, so...it was one thing or the other for me. Look, if I had chosen to just try again at relationships and pave over the experience of you in my life, I think that maybe you and I would still be here right now, talking about that other thing I didn't choose to do.
M: That...ugh...that just kills me. You take all of these little insignificant moments with me and make them epic stories that changed your life. Who else does that? Seriously. Promise me you won't write a bible about me while I'm gone?
S: God forbid. The numbering of each line alone would kill me.
M: I just don't know why it had to be me. I'm not who you think I am. At least, the person you're talking about is not the person I see in the mirror.
S: That's okay. Someday you'll catch up to my way of thinking.
She took this in for a moment, then checked her cell phone.
M: I have to go.
S: Okay.
M: I don't want you to walk me out.
S: Why?
M: I don't know. I don't want to say. Just let me walk out, okay? Please?
S: Do I get...?
M: I don't think it's right.
S: Okay...I think I understand.
M: It's not because I don't -
S: You don't have to say anything. (pause) Good luck, and...have a safe trip.
M: I will. Thanks for the coffee.
She grabbed her things and quickly left. I just sat there for a moment, learning to breathe again, and then took a sip of my latte, now cold. Tossing both cups in the trash on my way out, I took my first breath of night air, and it hurt somewhere deep inside. Two steps towards my car, I heard my name and turned to see her walking towards me. Without a word, we embraced and held each other tightly enough to leave an impression in each other.
Time, wind, passing cars, clouds floating overhead, all stopped. The moon disappeared, along with the city, the earth, the sky, and any other reason for existence.
But there we were.
In my notebook, in an ideal last meeting, inside my iPod and in a little blog lost in the wilderness of the Internet, there we embraced one last time for the ages, and forever more.
Good luck and have a safe trip.
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