What Followed

“You’re still using that cup?”

“Well, it hasn’t cracked yet.”

“It always did that, though. Right there, along the rim. That little bit of flaking paint. See?”

“Yes, I know. But I learned to drink from the other side.”

“I never bothered.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Funny. I seem to recall thinking the same thing.”

“Yes, well, you would.”

“I did.”

“You always assume that.”

“I assume it because it was true. At least then.”

“'Then' is really doing a lot of work there.”

“And so is now.”

“Oh? But you don’t sound unhappy.”

“I don’t sound anything.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“That's so like you. Always confusing quiet with contentment.”

“And you used to confuse disruption with honesty.”

“And I still do, apparently.”

“You say that like it’s an accusation.”

“It’s an observation, really.”

“Yes, well, you always preferred observations. So much safer that way.”

“And you preferred declarations. Louder, messier. Much harder to contain.”

“Declarations made things move. That's why.”

“They made things break. Not the same thing at all, really.”

“Not everything that breaks is lost.”

“And not everything that stays is saved.”

“I kept more than you think I did.”

“And I lost so much less than you assume.”

“I can't believe you still talk like that. Like life is a ledger to be curated, analyzed, and balanced.”

“Well, it is.”

“I never liked keeping score.”

“Oh, you kept score. You just called it loyalty.”

“You say that like it’s a small thing.”

“No, I say it like it was a heavy thing.”

“It was supposed to be.”

“No. It just became that.”

“I remember it differently.”

“I know you do.”

“Then why argue?”

“I’m not arguing.”

“You always say that right before you start arguing.”

“Only when you stop listening.”

“I am listening.”

“No, you’re waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For me to say I was wrong.”

“Well, were you?”

“I don’t think that’s the question you actually want answered.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, you actually want to know if it was worth it.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“I suppose that depends on what you think ‘it’ refers to.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m clarifying.”

“You never used to do that so much.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“Because I handled it?”

“Because it hadn’t happened yet.”

“And there it is.”

“What?”

“That tone. The one that sounds like something vital just closed.”

“Some things did.”

“Not everything, though.”

“Enough.”

“You don’t sound angry.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you?”

“I'm finished.”

“Well, that’s dramatic.”

“No. It’s specific.”

“You always did like specificity when it suited you.”

“And you always disliked it when it cornered you.”

“I wasn’t cornered.”

“You were surrounded.”

“By what?”

“Expectations. And history. That version of yourself you were always most invested in protecting.”

“Be fair. I protected so much more than myself.”

“I know. That was part of the problem.”

“You talk like I was careless.”

“You were careful. Constantly. Exhaustingly.”

“And you weren’t?”

“No, I was decisive.”

“Well, you call it that now.”

“I didn’t have another word for it at the time.”

“And now?”

“Now I have several.”

“Name one.”

“After.”

“That’s not a word. That’s a direction.”

“Exactly.”

“I stayed.”

“I know.”

“And I made it work.”

“I know.”

“You don’t get to talk like that without acknowledging everything that it took.”

“Oh, I acknowledge it.”

“But you don’t honor it.”

“I don’t worship it.”

“You used to.”

“Back when I mistook endurance for virtue, maybe.”

“And you replaced it with what? Motion?”

“No, with truth.”

“So I suppose truth moves, now?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it leaves.”

“And leaves what behind?”

“Silence. Space, damage, relief.”

“You make it sound so... nice and neat.”

“Yeah? Well, it wasn’t.”

“Then why does your voice sound so much lighter than it did?”

“Because it isn’t carrying what yours still is.”

“You assume too much.”

“I remember too much.”

“We remember the same things.”

“No. We remember the same starting point.”

“You talk like we split.”

“We did.”

“There was no line, though.”

“There was a moment. That's enough.”

“But moments don’t do that.”

“This one did.”

“I would have noticed if it had.”

“Oh, you noticed. You just didn’t name it.”

“You act like naming is everything.”

“It isn’t. But it’s the first step toward admitting something exists.”

“I admitted plenty.”

“You admitted responsibility. You never admitted desire.”

“Because desire is unreliable.”

“So is staying.”

“Easy to say when you left.”

“I didn’t leave everything.”

“You left enough.”

“And so did you.”

“I stayed.”

“No, you stayed where you were.”

“That was the point.”

“That was the difference.”

“So, you think movement makes meaning, then.”

“Well, I think stagnation erases it, if that makes any sense.”

“Strong word, stagnation.”

“And an accurate one.”

“You sound so certain.”

“Well, I earned the right.”

“At what cost?”

“At the cost of no longer pretending such a cost didn’t exist.”

“I don’t pretend.”

“No, you normalize.”

“You romanticize.”

“You fossilize.”

“That’s so unfair.”

“No, it’s descriptive.”

“You’re very good at that now, I see.”

“Well, I had a lot of practice.”

“With what?”

“With telling myself the truth when no one else would.”

“I told myself the truth every day.”

“But you only ever told yourself the same truth.”

“Consistency matters.”

“So does growth.”

“You think I didn’t grow?”

“I think you grew around the same wound.”

“And you think you healed?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you so calm?”

“I just stopped reopening it, is all.”

“So, you closed it instead.”

“I walked away from it.”

“Same thing.”

“No. Closure seals. Leaving changes the entire geography.”

“You really believe that.”

“I don't have to believe it. I live inside it.”

“You live inside absence.”

“I live inside possibility.”

“Possibility is lonely.”

“So is repetition.”

“You’re so much crueler than I remember.”

“No, I’m clearer.”

“And I suppose you think you’re allowed to say you’re glad you left.”

“I am.”

“And there it is.”

“And you’re allowed to say you’re glad you stayed, right?”

“I am.”

“But are you?”

“Yes.”

“Without any hesitation?"

“With commitment.”

“That pause said so much more than you think.”

“It said thoughtfulness, which is exactly what I intended.”

“It said doubt.”

“It said habit.”

“You don’t get to translate my own words to me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then stop.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“Now.”

“Yes, well, you always did like the last word.”

“And you always did like thinking there would be another conversation.”

“There could be.”

“No.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yes.”

“Then this is goodbye.”

“It already was.”

“So, will you ever wonder what would’ve happened if you stayed?”

“Sometimes.”

“And?”

“I just don’t confuse wondering with regret the way some do.”

“And if I wonder what would’ve happened if I left?”

“Then I suppose we're even.”

“That doesn’t feel comforting.”

“It isn’t meant to.”

“Still.”

“Still?”

“I hope it was worth it.”

“Well, it was real.”

“I suppose I can live with that.”

“You will. You have no choice.”

“Go.”

“I already have.”