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Dialogue Of Goodbye
A tight hug. Bright smiles from the both of us. We’re so high. We believe
in forever. You cough. I sneeze. We step back. Our hands interlocked – you’re
still funny. You still love me. And I, you. Our bright smiles get calmer over time. One of
us lets air flow between our palms.
It’s getting sweaty. We agree.
What’s that? Oh no, I don’t think so. Do you really want to? Hmm. Why? I
don’t like it. I think its right. Well I don’t agree.
A cat walks in the space between us.
You’re silent. So are you. I’m waiting. Do you know what
you’re waiting for? Who? You or me? Something, darling.
Something is supposed to happen. Well, things aren’t
what they’re supposed to
be sometimes. Don’t you think, we’re forever?
I once thought it was possible. But no, it’s too long.
Anything forever is too long. I don’t think so. Not
anything. Just us. Don’t believe in something so blindly
you can’t see the truth. Hmm. I’m finally starting
to agree with you.
Destiny, it moves in such awkward beauty, unfathomable.
...What rubbish.
You don’t believe in the existence of our tapestry? I believe the world should be free from all tapestries. It isn’t
artwork. It’s the belief that the artwork is beautiful that deconstructs us. It holds
us down. It’s not beautiful. It’s ugly. The belief of its existence
shouldn’t exist. Unfortunately for you, it does. I
believe in that map. That big map, made out of little maps. Providence. This is supposed
to happen. No. We have control. No…One drew maps and
told us to live this way.
Oh well. Here we go again.
(exchange of looks. Multiple emotions)
You’re silent. (looks down). Our fingertips are barely
touching. You’re so far away. Our fingertips? What are
you talking about? We’re still holding hands. Open your
eyes darling, see. We’re so far away. You’re right.
I was blind. I’m sorry. I always thought we were still… how did we come to be
this way? I wasn’t the one who inched away. I never wanted distance. It’s not distance. Everyone wants space. We’ve got a lot of
that. I don’t think, now, that we can
ever
hug
again
I don’t feel your fingertips anymore. Reach, reach, we still can. Do you want to?
I don’t know. I’ve forgotten. There,
the merest brush, feel. The final recognition of fingertip to
fingertip. Soon we’ll slide away. You’ll take the east train and I’ll take the west. And if that map of
yours exists, one day, you’ll find what you saw in me last time.
And you, me.
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Note: I don't think I've ever felt so uncertain, uneasy and unsure about any of my works as I've felt about this. I wrote this after I finished my exam, in the margins of a paper while waiting for the teacher to announce time's-up.