"Where'd you get that?" I pointed at the thing in her hand, something I'd not seen before, which isn't unexpected, as it's been years since we were in the same room together.
"Switzerland," she answered. Ever the world traveler. Good.
"Yeah, I saw you were at the airport with Jenny - did you have a good trip?" In my dreams is where we meet to catch up these days. It's obvious she likes me better there.
"Did you talk to them about me the way you talked to me about them?" I ask the question that has only just formed in my brain that moment. I thought we were special, and her vacancy from my life has confused me greatly. A light bulb has appeared, though. Suddenly, I get it. "You did, didn't you? All the times you complained about them, how needy they were, how juvenile, how dull - you said those same things to them, didn't you? You just changed the names."
The place changes, begins to mist away - reality is crashing in. I'm uncomfortable and shift positions and try to go back to that place - the image is before me again, but she's not. I can tell she's listening, though.
"That's why you were able to walk away from me, but never from them."
The radio keeps playing, even when you're not there to listen to it. I want to know what songs it played, but I don't, because my feelings will be hurt and because it doesn't matter. In that order.