If our life were a movie, he and I would have been visibly awkward with each other because we have a history, a story that didn’t end peacefully, the residues of which kept us awake long nights, but this is not a movie, and so we pretend that we have nearly forgotten each other and there is no past.
Long time, we say to each other. How have you been. Where are you these days. And... And your family? All good? Oh wow. That’s nice. I see. Wonderful.
We’re catching up like friends do who haven’t seen each other in a long while; asking, laughing, teasing, talking over one another.
I try to be funny.
No awkwardness except in our hearts. In my heart. He seems natural enough.
The staff of the café are new; young men and women who smile and look bored—the earlier generation never smiled but the bored look was ditto.
He has two daughters. I knew that already. I’d found that when I stalked him on social media, the ones that do not tell on you: “your profile has been viewed by...” But I also regularly heard from the neighbourhood news channel about what everyone else was doing these days. They tell me about him and wait for my reaction—I don’t give them the pleasure.
Neighbours lament about my lack of children. I have to face that almost every day. They bring it up for no reason. If they find me happy or content, they will say, oh, you’re having a fun time, alone in your house. The intent is clear: they don’t like it. They don’t like it one bit. If only you had a child or two to take care of. Who will care for you in your old age?
I try to combat them in different ways. One day I would say, you’re right, I am such a terrible woman—I don’t have children. How will I live out my old age? The hint of sarcasm in my voice would confuse them, so they would nod, stare at me for a while for a tell, and leave it. To others I might say, you mean to have children who abandon their parents like the ones in this area? True enough, there are aged parents living alone, waiting for their children’s annual visit. Sometimes I remain silent and let them have their say, and once it is over, say Bye and walk away. Insolent, they might think, but what else do I do?
As he and I catch up, I tell myself, this is live, this is now, and this too shall pass. There will never be another meeting or an event like this, in this lifetime. Savour every second. This instant. This word. This smile. This quick glance. Record it. Capture it. With your eyes, ears, brain, heart. The moment is going…gone.
