Ten Years

"Is this seat taken?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m asking.”

“Then yeah. It’s taken.”

“Fair enough.”

“You came anyway.”

“I wasn’t sure I would.”

“I wasn’t sure I wanted you to.”

“Still stubborn.”

“Still late.”

“I wasn’t late. I was deciding.”

“Deciding what? Whether I’m worth it?”

“Whether this is.”

“This?”

“This conversation. This moment. Us.”

“You decided yes.”

“I did.”

“Why now?”

“Because I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t matter.”

“You pretended well.”

“So did you.”

“I didn’t pretend. I buried it.”

“Same thing.”

“No. Pretending is acting. Burying is forgetting.”

“Did you forget me?”

“No.”

“Then what did you bury?”

“The version of you I couldn’t live with.”

“I was sixteen.”

“You were cruel.”

“I was scared.”

“You were angry.”

“So were you.”

“I was trying.”

“You were leaving.”

“I didn’t know how to stay.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“I didn’t know how.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“You wouldn’t have answered.”

“You didn’t give me the chance.”

“I didn’t think you wanted it.”

“I wanted a father.”

“I wanted a son.”

“Then why did you disappear?”

“Because I thought I’d ruin you.”

“You did.”

“I know.”

“I waited.”

“I know.”

“I hated you.”

“I hated myself.”

“I told people you were dead.”

“I felt dead.”

“I told myself I didn’t care.”

“I told myself you’d be better off.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I know.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why’d you come?”

“Because I heard you were looking for me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Your mother said you asked.”

“I asked where you were. That’s not the same.”

“It’s close enough.”

“Not really.”

“Close enough for me to show up.”

“So you’re here because of her.”

“I’m here because of you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I want to.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“I know.”

“I’m not the same.”

“I hope not.”

“You missed everything.”

“I missed you.”

“I graduated.”

“I saw the photos.”

“I got arrested.”

“I read the report.”

“I got clean.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I wanted to be.”

“You weren’t.”

“I know.”

“I needed you.”

“I needed help.”

“You could’ve called.”

“I didn’t think I deserved to.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was broken.”

“So was I.”

“I didn’t know how to fix it.”

“Neither did I.”

“I thought silence was safer.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I thought you’d forget me.”

“I tried.”

“I thought you’d hate me.”

“I did.”

“I thought you’d never want this.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Do you want coffee?”

“Is that your way of starting over?”

“It’s my way of staying.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Tea?”

“Water.”

“Okay.”

“You still drink it black?”

“Still.”

“You still wear that jacket?”

“Still.”

“You still flinch when someone says my name?”

“Sometimes.”

“You still think I’m sixteen?”

“No.”

“You still think I hate you?”

“I hope not.”

“You still think you deserve forgiveness?”

“I don’t know.”

“You still think this is enough?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To try.”

“To fix it?”

“To face it.”

“To change it?”

“To honor it.”

“To explain?”

“To listen.”

“To speak?”

“To stay.”

“You think you can stay?”

“I want to.”

“You think I’ll let you?”

“I hope so.”

“You think I’ll forget?”

“No.”

“You think I’ll forgive?”

“I don’t expect it.”

“You think I’ll trust you?”

“I’ll earn it.”

“You think I’ll love you?”

“I’ll wait.”

“You think I’ll call you Dad?”

“I’ll cry.”

“You think I’ll mean it?”

“I’ll believe you.”

“You think this is real?”

“I do.”

“You think this matters?”

“It does.”

“You think I’m ready?”

“No.”

“You think you are?”

“No.”

“You think we’ll make it?”

“I think we’ll try.”

“You think trying’s enough?”

“It has to be.”

“You think I’ll break again?”

“Maybe.”

“You think you will?”

“Probably.”

“You think we’ll survive it?”

“I think we’ll learn.”

“You think we’ll heal?”

“I think we’ll hurt first.”

“You think I’ll scream?”

“I’ll listen.”

“You think I’ll leave?”

“I’ll stay.”

“You think I’ll test you?”

“I’ll pass.”

“You think I’ll push?”

“I’ll hold.”

“You think I’ll cry?”

“I’ll cry too.”

“You think I’ll say things I don’t mean?”

“I’ll know the difference.”

“You think I’ll say things I do mean?”

“I’ll hear them.”

“You think I’ll hate you again?”

“I’ll love you anyway.”

“You think I’ll love you?”

“I’ll be here when you do.”

“You think this is the beginning?”

“I think it’s the first breath.”

“You think we’ll need more?”

“I think we’ll take them together.”

“You think I’ll forget this?”

“I hope not.”

“You think I’ll remember it forever?”

“I will.”

“You think I’ll tell my kids?”

“If you want to.”

“You think I’ll have kids?”

“If you choose to.”

“You think I’ll be a good father?”

“I think you’ll be better than me.”

“You think I’ll know how?”

“You’ll learn.”

“You think I’ll be scared?”

“You’ll be brave.”

“You think I’ll be angry?”

“You’ll be honest.”

“You think I’ll be proud?”

“You already are.”

“You think I’ll be okay?”

“I think you already are.”

“You think I’ll forgive you?”

“I think you already did.”

“You think I’ll say it?”

“I’ll wait.”

“You think I’ll mean it?”

“I’ll believe you.”

“You think I’ll call you Dad?”

“I’ll cry.”

“You already said that.”

“I meant it twice.”