Ten Moves Ahead (Part 2)

After that, Cornelius suggests we go to a fairly popular, though not overly crowded part of town, claiming it will give him plenty of things to predict without being overwhelming.  So for the next hour or so, we roam around with him doing little party tricks like predicting when someone is going to trip, or telling me what a street prophet is about to say and how many people are going to sneer at him, or pointing out when two people walking towards each other know each other and whether they are going to shake hands, hug, or kiss when they meet.  It's a little disconcerting how accurate and precise everything he says is, but I still feel like it it's just some sort of trick.  He's "gazing" such a short distance into the future that he must have some mundane secret as to how he does it.

Finally I decide to ask him, with a bit of a sneer, "So what is it that you do anyway?"

He looks at me hopefully, but then frowns a little, as if he's fully realizing how little I still believe in him.  "Well, for now I'm an accountant," he says, "but I'm studying psychology in night school.  I guess I figured I could use my gift to help people some way, and psychology would make me better at it and give me more opportunities, but I'm starting to wonder.  I mean, you saw how well it worked out for you, and your case is pretty typical."

"Uh, huh," I mumble.  "So you mostly just go around ruining people's lives?"

He frowns even more.  I think I may have actually upset him and I almost feel bad.  I would have felt bad if the wound he dealt me wasn't still so fresh.  "Well, not always," he says quietly.

Then he just stops and closes his eyes for a moment.  He seems to be concentrating very had on something.  I'm pretty sure it's just an act.  When I open my mouth to say something, he holds his hand up to stop me even before I've made a sound.  His eyes are still closed.  This goes on for what seems like minutes, and I'm about to walk away when he opens his eyes and smiles.  "Sorry about that," he said.  "I was just trying to run through the different possibilities.  Sometimes if I really concentrate, I can see alternatives, and fortunately for us, this one was pretty easy to see.  Come on, there's someone I want you to meet, and if you want nothing to do with me after that, I'll leave you alone forever.  I promise."  He gives me a sly smile as if he thinks he already knows what's going to happen and part of me wants to leave and prove him wrong, but I can't help but be intrigued by his confidence, so I follow reluctantly along.

We walk a few blocks down and another couple blocks over and arrive at a fairly decent looking restaurant that I've never heard of before.  Cornelius happily holds the door for me as I walk in and Cornelius follows.  The receptionist or head waitress or whoever she is smiles pleasantly at me and says, "Table for two?"

I'm not sure what to say, but Cornelius chimes in, "Oh no, we're just meeting some friends here."

The moment he finishes speaking, I hear a voice to my right say, "Cornelius, is that you?"

A slightly plump, smiling man appearing to be in his late 30s walks over and extends a hand which Cornelius happily shakes.  "Hello, Bill," Cornelius says.  "It's nice to see you again."

Bill nods.  "I'll say," he says with a smile.  "Say, can you tell me when I'm going to win the lottery yet?"

Cornelius laughs, a little uneasy.  "You know it doesn't work like that, Bill."

Bill smiles and pats Cornelius on the back.  "I know," he says, "I'm just messing with you.  So what brings you around this way?  Did you know we were going to be here?"

"Sort-of," Cornelius responds.  "Mostly, I just needed a place to use the restroom, and I wanted my friend Dave here to meet you."

Bill looks over at me and holds his hand out with that same grin he's worn since he shook Cornelius's hand.  "Any friend of Cornelius's is a friend of mine," he says.  "Do you have the same gift he does, or are you someone he's helped."

I sneer a little.  "Neither," I say.

Bill frowns.  "Oh," he says.  Then he glances at Cornelius.  "Why is he here?" he asks.

"I tried to help him and kind-of made a botch of it," Cornelius says sadly.  "I was hoping you could talk to him, you know, convince him I'm not worthy of hatred.  That's all I'd really like."

Bill looks over at me in disappointment.  "Well Cornelius surely isn't worthy of hatred," he says.  Then he looks back at Cornelius and says, "but they're going to have our table ready for us any minute now," he says.  "Are you sure you don't want to just join us for dinner and talk about it?"

Cornelius shakes his head and glances over at the receptionist lady.  "No, that won't be necessary," he says. "You have more waiting time than you think, anyway.  A food critic is about to walk through the door and jump you in the line.  It will be about 18 minutes before you get a table."

Bill shakes his head.  "Well I'll be," he says, "Isn't that just something?  Well come on then, Dave, you can meet me and my family while we wait."

Cornelius nods politely and goes to ask the waitress where the restroom is while Bill leads me back to the bench where a moderately attractive woman of about his age, a shy looking girl of about 12 or 13, and a boy of about 7 or 8 are waiting.  The girl glances up at me and blushes before looking away.

"That's Becky," Bill says.  "But before we get to her story, this is my wife Samantha and our son Tom."  The wife stands up and shakes my hand.

"I overhead your conversation," she said.  "You really should give Cornelius a break.  He's just trying to help.  And I honestly don't think he's ever made things worse.  Perhaps failed to improve them a time or two, but I don't think he makes people's lives worse.  I just don't think he's capable of that."

I try hard to look sincere as I smile and nod.  I must not do a very good job because Samantha looks a little uncomfortable and then sits back down in silence.

Bill looks like he's about to launch into the story about his daughter, whatever craziness that may be, when I hear the bell above the door ring.  Bill looks past me and lets out a sigh and says, "Well, I think Cornelius was right again."

I turn and watch as a rather pompous looking heavy-set man walks through the door with his head held high and announces, "Table for one, please!"

The receptionist waitress darts forward and exclaims, "Oh yes of course Mr. Finelli!"  As she frantically becons a waiter over to lead the man to his seat, she glances over at Bill and his family and mouths "Sorry."  Bill just nods and smiles, seeming to understand, and she smiles back.

As the large man is led away, I turn to Bill and ask, "So that was the alleged food critic?"

Bill laughs a little.  "Alleged?" he counters.  "That's Phillip Finelli.  I see his picture in the paper every week.  His reviews can destroy a well-established restaurant or make a relative unknown like this the next big thing. Man, I'm sure glad we got in here before he made it popular!"

I shake my head in disbelief.  "And you really think Cornelius knew that man was coming here with some sort of physic power?  He didn't, like call the guy up and ask him to come here or something?"

Bill frowns.  "You clearly don't know much about either Cornelius or Mr. Finelli," he said.  "Mr. Finelli is famous, well, at least relatively so given that some people apparently have no idea who he is.  Cornelius is an accountant.  They'd never even meet unless Cornelius used his powers to force it or something, but that's not the kind of thing Cornelius would go, not unless Mr. Finelli was in trouble or something."

I sigh and shake my head.  "I'm sorry," I say.  "I just still have a really hard time believing all of this.  I mean, surely Cornelius just talks to lots of people and is a good judge of human behavior.  He's shown me his little tricks, but I just don't believe in this whole future-predicting thing.  I mean, he knew things about me and both my past and future that seem suspicious, but the past he could have asked about and the future he practically ensured would come true."

Bill looks like he's starting to get a little frustrated with me.  "Look, if you don't want to believe in Cornelius, that's fine, but don't defame him like that.  Not in front of me and my family."

"Listen, I'm sorry..." I say.

"Sit down," Bill demands, sitting down forcefully on the waiting bench.  I can see I've upset him and he is larger than me, so I do what he suggests.  "Listen," he says, "I owe Cornelius the world.  He saved my little girl; he saved Becky's life."

I really want to sneer in disbelief at that, but I resist.  "How did it happen?" I ask.

"Becky bikes to school," Bill says.  "About three years ago, she was biking to school just like she does every day when a 'crazy person' as she called him stepped in front of her bike.  She nearly fell over, but she stopped in time.  He wouldn't move though.  She made to go around him, but he stepped in her way.  He didn't say anything, just stood there looking at her.  She was starting to get uncomfortable and was about to call for help when he just walked away down the street.  Becky was a little shaken, but she glanced back and saw he was walking down the street away from her, so she continued on her way.  A few blocks further down, she was riding across a street, with the light, when a car ran the red light going what she said must have been 100 miles an hour just a few feet in front of her.  It didn't seem to see her at all.  If she hadn't been stopped by that crazy man for those few seconds, that car would have hit her, no question."

I looked at Bill and saw he was completely serious.  I had all kinds of counters, the main one being that Cornelius set it all up, asking the driver of the car to run the red light and scare this little girl half to death, but I saw Bill really believed in this, so I tried to restrain myself to asking, "So when did Cornelius show up to ask for the thanks he deserved?"

Bill looks at me with a look of sheer disdain.  "He didn't," Bill says.

"But you clearly know who he is now," I say.  "And if he can see the future and all, surely he arranged for you to meet."

Bill shook his head.  "I suppose that's possible," he says.  "But Cornelius tried so hard not to meet us, that I really don't think he planned it.  I mean, we didn't meet until over a year after the incident.  And we met at the zoo where Cornelius was trying to stop a small child from getting his hand bit off.  Becky and I were looking at the tigers, when we heard a woman shouting at someone behind us, by the lions and we turned and Becky just said, 'That's him!'  I saw Cornelius, looking pretty much just like he does today, frowning as a woman pulled a small boy away from him.  'You're welcome!' Cornelius called out after them and then he turned and looked straight at us.  He seemed genuinely shocked when he saw us.  It seemed for a moment like he was going to run away, but then he looked at Becky and I think he saw something.  Whether it was the future or just the look of gratitude in her eyes, I'm not really sure, but he stopped and then hesitantly stepped towards us.

"We walked over to him and I introduced myself and Becky.  Cornelius seemed pretty well at ease.  I'm sure he knew we weren't angry.  Becky blushed as she thanked him for saving her.  'What makes you think I saved you?' Cornelius asked her, and she glanced at me and I told him.  He smiled and said, 'You're welcome,' and then turned to walk away.  But I called him back and asked him how he knew.  That was when he reluctantly explained his gift and how he tried to use it to help people but it always turned out wrong.  He said it always worked, but people never really understood what he had done for them.  He didn't want to be a hero, he said, but he didn't want to be hated either.  He just wanted people to understand that he was trying to help them and not trying to hurt.

"I myself wasn't sure I really believed how he just knew things, but I did know that he had helped my little girl and I realized he had helped a little boy just moments before, so we walked around the rest of the zoo talking about Cornelius's gift and, I have to admit, using it to catch the various animals when they were doing the most interesting things.  It was the best day at the zoo we'd ever had and by the end, I had managed to convince Cornelius that he should keep using his gift, at least I like to think it was my words who had convinced him, so if you want to blame anyone for supposedly messing up your life, blame me, because I'm the reason Cornelius is still doing it."

I just didn't know what to say after all of that.  Even if I was still unsure, this man believed in Cornelius with his whole heart.  He encouraged Cornelius to interfere in the lives of people like me.  And this was a good, kind family man.  I managed a weak smile and said, "Well, I guess I won't blame him too much then."

Bill laughed.  "Now that's the spirit!" he said.  "Don't blame him too much!  Ha!  If you keep hanging out with Cornelius, your opinion will get a lot better than that, but I suppose time will tell.  Cornelius probably already knows how it's going to play out, and I doubt he would be putting so much effort into you without a reason.  Say, if you don't mind me asking, what was it he saw in your future anyway?"

"Well, it's already happened now," I admitted, "but he saw me failing in a relationship after running into my ex at a grocery store."

Bill frowns.  "Gee man, I'm sorry," he says.  "Life sucks sometimes, and sometimes you just can't change things."

That is when I suddenly realize that maybe I could have changed it.  Cornelius had told me that first time we met not to pursue Mandy, but I did anyway.  Even if he was setting me up, why would he have tried to convince me not to do the thing that I was going to do anyway?  Was it some sort of reverse psychology, or had he really been trying to help me?  "Yeah," I muter in return.  "So where is he anyway?"

I turn and see Cornelius walking back over towards us with a soft smile, seeming not gleeful or excited, but contented.  "Ready to go," he says to me.  It's not a question.

I nod.  "Yeah," I say.  I turn back to Bill.  "It was good to meet you," I say.

"Yeah, you, too, eventually," Bill says with a sly grin.  "We'll see you again?"  He glances at Cornelius, who shrugs, and Bill laughs.  "We'll see you again," he says with confidence, and then he returns to his family and Cornelius guides me away and back out the door.

"They seem like nice people," I say.

"They are nice people," Cornelius says.  "I didn't know anything about them when I met Becky, just like I didn't know anything about you.  I really am just trying to help, Dave."

I nod, finally starting to accept Cornelius's intentions, even if I'm still unsure about how he actually does it.  "Yeah, I know," I say.  "I know."  We walk in silence for a moment and then I ask, "So how did this all start anyway?  How did you discover you have this... gift?"

Cornelius nods and takes a deep breath before proceeding.  "Well," he says, "when I was young I had what my mother always described as an 'active imagination'.  I would have described it that way too, I suppose.  I was always walking around the stores with her, pointing out people and telling her the things that were going to happen in their lives.  These were people of course I had never seen before and never saw again, so I never realized I was making actual predictions.  I thought I was just making things up, until one day I said something a little bit too loudly about a man not getting the new office he wanted at work.  The man glared at me and then asked my mother, 'Who are you and how does your son know about that?'  My mother was quite alarmed and pulled me quickly away without answering the man.  After that, she told me that I better not go about blurting things about people anymore.

"I still saw things, though.  Even just playing in the back yard with my friends or my younger brother and sister.  I always just assumed I was imagining, that that's what imagination was, but things that I imagined were going to happen started to actually happen more and more often.  There were simple, immediate things at first, like a rabbit darting across our yard, and then, as I grew older, more involved things, like that our neighbors were going to sell their home and that the new couple to move in would have a barking dog and a crying baby.  I started getting annoyed with them before they had even moved in and my mom kept telling me to stop imagining the worse until they actually moved in and it was just as bad as I thought it was going to be.

"I think my mom started to get a little uncomfortable after that.  In fact, in my 'imagination' I saw her starting to spend more time with my brother and sister and let me go on my own more if I kept telling her about the things I saw.  I felt sad when I thought about that, so I kept things to myself, and only used my 'gift' for little things, like showing my brother or sister where some baby animals were hiding, or 'cheating' at video games against the kids who thought they were all that."  Cornelius paused and shook his head.  "Maybe that last one I shouldn't have done, but it was just so rewarding.  Anyway, as I got older, I realized I was seeing more and more and had to fight even more to keep it all to myself.  I only let on that I was seeing anything when something really terrible happened, like the head cheerleader at my high school falling down the stairs and breaking her ankle.  After I stopped that one, we dated for nearly three months, but she eventually decided I was too strange, whether I had saved her or not.  I understood.  Of course I understood.  I felt strange myself.  I didn't know why I had these predictive powers.  I didn't know why I saw the future as clearly as I saw the past, but I did.

"That's really how it works, it's like memories but for things that haven't happened.  I look at someone or at something that's about to happen and I see how it's going to play out for them, as clearly as if I was remembering my favorite birthday party.  Sometimes I can see different possibilities based on what would happen if I alter the events, but usually I have to start to alter them before I can see.  Only sometimes, with simple things, can I see lots of possibilities at once, like tonight, when I was just trying to figure out where we could go to meet someone you could talk to, I wasn't trying to look far into the future and I was only considering a very simple conversation.  But anyway, my gift seemed to get stronger as I grew older, like I could see things more clearly and further out.  In high school, I could see at most a few days into the future.  Now, as you saw, I can see months ahead, but not much further than that.  And I mean, that's about what there is to it."  He shrugs.

"What to you mean that's about what there is to it?" I demand.  "If you knew you had this gift, why didn't you open some fortune teller shop or something?  Why did you become an accountant?"

He smiles and shrugs.  "I was always good with numbers," he says.  "And I considered doing something more with my talent.  I never thought it would make me very happy, but Bill convinced me it wasn't so much about making me happy as it was about helping other people.  Until I met him, I was still only using my power to stop life-threatening events from happening.  Since I met him, I've broadened out to trying to help prevent heart-ache and disappointment, like I was trying to help you.  I've found those to go even worse than saving people's lives did in terms of people appreciating me, but I suppose it's not about being appreciated as it is about helping."

I look at him with a wrinkled brow.  "If you don't care about being appreciated, then why are you trying so hard with me?" I ask.

"Because I didn't save you the heart-ache," he says.  "And honestly, because I just want a friend.  Bill is great, but in terms of actual friends, he's got a different personality than I would choose.  You seem more my sped, frankly.  I know that probably weirds you out, weriding people out is what I do best, but I think you deserve the truth.  I think that we could be good friends and that we could really help one another."

"You think, or you 'see'?" I ask.

"I think," he says.

"So what do you actually 'see' about us?" I want to know.

He shrugs.  "Telling you might break it, but right now, I see us continuing to walk for a while, then you going home and trying to forget about me for a bit and calling me up again a few days later to see if I want to go out for a drink.  Of course I accept.  I see you slowly accepting me as not being a total freak, at least it seems like you do.  You start to accept my advice a little more and one day ask me if I think you'll ever find love."

"And?" I ask.

He shrugs again.  "That's where it cuts out," he says.

I sneer.  "Well isn't that convenient," I say.

"For what it's worth," he says.  "I think you will find love again, I just don't see it."

"Yeah, I suppose," I say, no knowing what else to say.

"You want to go home now," he says.  Again, it's not a question.

"Yeah," I say.

"Okay," he says.  "Let me walk with you back to your car."

Ten Moves Ahead (Part 1)

In chess, the best players are those who can see how their moves will affect the state of the board several moves into the future.  In real life, people try to see into the future all the time, but there are only a select view who can actually see how a certain move or action in life will affect the state of the world hours, days, weeks, months, or sometimes even years from when the action is taken.  These gifted individuals are not just guessing what will happen, they can actually see into the future with great clarity the events that will follow from a certain action.  Some are so haunted by the things that they see, that they try to ignore this power altogether; some see is as a way to make the world a better place by warning people when their actions may have unintended consequences; most are trapped somewhere in the middle.  This is one of their stories.

I was in the bar talking to this cute girl when this guy walks by and I hear him say, "Don't bother."  I turn to ask him what he's talking about when I see he's already moved away and is sitting in a booth a few feet away, so I politely excuse myself and go over to ask him what the heck he thinks he's doing.

"I'm sitting," he answers.

"And why are you doing that?"  I'm a little annoyed at his response, seeing as I'm sure he knows what I was actually what talking about.

"Because I don't want to get a broken nose," he says.

"What the..."

"Listen," he says quickly looking slightly nervous and then relieve when I don't finish my sentence.  "I was just trying to help.  Please sit down."

I glance back at the girl, who's glancing over at me with a mixed look of confusion and frustration.  I signal the bartender to make her another drink in hopes that will keep her happy and turn to the man across from me.

"That will help you get what you think you want," he says, "but trust me, it's not worth it."

"Do you know that girl?" I ask, wondering suddenly if he knows something about her and really was just trying to warn me away.  But people don't go around doing that, do they?  And if they do, wouldn't they be more direct.

"Not really," he admits.  "All I know is that she was going to invite you back to her place tonight and things were going to get a little intense.  Best night she's ever had kind of intense.  Not the best night you've ever had, though.  She's going to want to be with you, like as a girlfriend.  You're going to feel a little unsure, but you're going to accept it and convince yourself you're happy.  Four months from now, you're going to be out shopping for ingredients for a romantic dinner and be wondering when or if you can break up with this girl.  In your distraction, you are going to literally bump into a woman with whom you will feel an instant connection.  I think maybe you knew her once but lost touch for a long time.  She has red hair and green eyes and dimples when she smiles.  She's almost as tall as you and it looks like she works out, though she's not disgustingly beefy or anything.  I think her name is Clara.  After you meet her..."

I don't want to hear anymore.  My head shot up as soon as I heard the name.  "Who told you about Clara?" I demand.

He shakes his head.  "No one told me," he says.  He reaches across the table like he wants to grab my arm or something, but then thinks better of it and pulls back.  "Broken nose," I hear him mutter, and then he looks up at me and says, "Listen, I was just trying to help, but I see now that I've only made it worse.  I can't always see all the alternate paths until I disrupt one.  I'm so sorry.  I guess you'll just have to figure it out on your own."

I stand and glare at him.  "What the hell are you talking about?" I'm talking loudly but not quite shouting.  I think the patrons closest probably turn and look at me, but I don't think the girl notices.

He sighs and shakes his head.  "Absolutely nothing," he says.  "But here," he pulls a card out of his coat pocket and gives it to me.  "About four months from now, feel free to give me a call.  I was only trying to help."  He smiles at me, a soft, sympathetic and perhaps condescending smile.  I consider ripping up the card right there and throwing it back at him, but instead I look down at it.  It's unadorned and the only writing on it is:  "Cornelius Wright, 212-345-8891".

I sneer.  "What kind of name is Cornelius?" I ask.

"The one my mother gave me," he replies, completely calm.  The nervousness I sensed in him before seems completely gone.  I just sneer and turn away.  I take a deep breath to compose myself, trying to remember where exactly I was with this girl before I was so rudely interrupted.  I walk over and notice that, fortunately, the bartender has given her another drink and she's already almost done with it.

"Who was that guy?" she wants to know.

I shrug.  "No one," I say.  "Just someone trying to interrupt our evening.  Now where were we?"

"About here," she says, as she puts her hands on my shoulders and leans in to kiss me on the check.  I see her blush a little as she pulls away.  "Sorry if that was too forward," she says.

I smile.  What a sweet girl.  I figure she must be a beast in bed.  I try to control my urges.  This girl is more than just a good time.  I can tell that, and I want that, too.  "Not at all," I say.

She smiles at me and it's over.

I end up at her place that night.  Anyone could have predicted that was going to happen.  We have the time of our lives.  I was completely right about this girl.  She's truly amazing.  And yet when we're done, I can't help but feel a bit distracted.  "That was the best I've ever had," she whispers, lying exhausted next to me.  "And I'm not just saying that."

I glance over at her and manage to smile.  It was amazing, but there's been something missing, something important, something that kept this from being my best as well.  The words of that strange man pop into my head and I close my eyes to shut them out.  That doesn't help because then instead I see Clara, smiling at me at first, and then frowning in shame at what I've just done.  Why did he have to mention Clara?  One of those guys must have put him up to this.  I hope they paid him well, because he probably doesn't even know how much he's messing with me head.  But then I realize that's all it is:  other people messing with my head.  This girl lying next to me is amazing, even better than Clara perhaps.  I shouldn't let stupid warnings from strangers stop me from pursuing an amazing relationship.

I open my eyes and smile more genuinely.  "Yeah, it was the best I've ever had, too," I lie.  And her face lights up like the sun and that's how it begins.

Mandy is great, she really is.  I couldn't be happy with her.  She's sweet and kind on the surface, and has a real drive and determination underneath.  The only problem is her commitment.  She has too much of it.  I know I thought this was the kind of thing I wanted, but Mandy is just so dedicated to me, it scares me.  I'm realizing now that this is a rebound relationship still, even though it's the third one I've been in since Clara and I broke up.  I thought I was over her by now, but she just keeps popping into my mind.  There have still been times that I've nearly called Mandy by her name, but I've caught myself in time.  And of course I haven't told Mandy about Clara.  If I was truly over Clara, maybe I could, but how can you tell the girl you're dating that you still have feelings for the girl you broke up with nearly two years ago?

So Mandy is great.  I want her to be happy, and I don't want to hurt her.  She deserves to be happy.  So is the right thing to do just to break up with her now before things get too heavy?  Or have they already gotten too heavy?  We haven't said, "I love you" yet, but I can feel it coming.  Mandy really wants to say it, she's just waiting for a sign from me that it's okay, perhaps something like saying "I love you" first.  And I want to be able to say it, but I can't.  I would feel like it was a lie.  And if I feel that way, should we even be together?  It's all just such a mess...

"Oh excuse me," I hear a voice say as I bump into something.  It's not angry or accusatory, but seems to genuinely be taking the blame.  I'm suddenly drawn back to the real world, to the grocery store where I'm shopping and the nearly empty basket I've been staring down into vacantly.

"Oh no, that was totally my fault," I say.  "I was..."  And then I look up and see her.  She gasps when she realizes it's me.  I've changed quite a bit in the past two years.  She hasn't changed a bit.  And why would she?  She was the one who was perfect before.

"Clara," I whisper.

"Dave," she says, softly, looking at me with her piercing green eyes.  "It's good to see you."

"No it's not," I blurt out before I can stop to think.

She frowns and keeps looking at me.  She won't look away.  Clara never looks away.  "No, it's not," she echos.

"I'm seeing someone now," I say.  I just continue to blurt things out, the worst possible things to say.  What is wrong with me?  It's her, I never could say the right things around her.  She always seemed to think it was fine, but I knew it never was.

She nods.  "That's good," she says.  "I hope she's good for you."

"And how about you?" I continue, unable to stop myself from this downward spiral I've started on.

She shakes her head.  "I dated someone for about a month shortly after we broke up," she admitted.  "But I realized it was just a rebound and I haven't dated anyone else since."  Then she actually smiles.  "I think I might finally be ready to try again, though," she says.

I feel my heart beating faster.  Try again?  She can't possibly mean us.  I just told her I was seeing someone. Clara is not the kind of girl who would want to break up a happy relationship.  But am I in a happy relationship?  I might know it's not the best, but Clara doesn't know that.  No, she's not trying to tell me that she wants to get back together.  She's trying to tell me that she's finally over me, in a way that I'm starting to realize I will never be over her.

I just nod.  "That's good," I say.  "I hope you find someone who appreciates you more than I did."

She frowns.  "Dave," she says, so softly, "I realize now that..."

I shake my head and look back down at my basket.  "No, Clara, just don't," I say.  "I know who I was and who I still am, and I'm sorry.  You deserve so much better."  And I walk on by, fighting the urge to look back.  I don't usually cry, but I feel tears forming in my eyes now.

Is this really who I am?  Am I just someone who loves someone and then hurts them and loses them forever?  I did it with Clara and now I'm going it again with Mandy.  Except I don't love Mandy.  I realize now that I don't love Mandy.  I have to break up with her.  It's the only right thing to do.  She's amazing, just like Clara, and she deserves someone so much better than me, just like Clara.

I walk out of the store in a daze, dropping my basket before the checkout line and returning to my car empty handed.  I take a few deep breaths to compose myself, wipe the couple of tears away so I can see properly, and drive away.  I hate what I have to do, but I have to do it.  It seems cruel now, but I know it's best in the long run.

Mandy is smiling when I walk in the door but her face drops when she sees me frowning and empty handed. "What's wrong?" she asks, a heart-ripping concern written all over her face.  "What happened?"

"We have to talk," I say.  The death sentence, every time, and I see from her reaction that she knows it's bad.

"Okay..." she says nervously.

I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the seat next to me.  Many walks over and sits.  I can already see tears forming in her eyes.

"Listen," I say, "today at the store..."

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" she interrupts, tears starting to flow.

"Now don't jump to conclusions!" I exclaim, suddenly wanting to undo this all.  I can love her.  I can learn to love her.  She's an amazing girl.  Who wouldn't love her?

She shakes her head.  "No," she says, "I've had this conversation before.  I know what's about to happen.  Don't insult me by pretending that's not what it is."

"It doesn't have to be," I protest.

She shakes her head again.  "It's the circumstances," she says.  "I've known since the first couple of weeks that you're heart wasn't in this, not as much as mine was, but I thought I could bring you around, I really hoped...  Because you're amazing, Dave, and I just wanted to be a part of your life."

Now I feel my own heart breaking.  Maybe Mandy is the girl I'm supposed to be with.  Maybe I just need to get over Clara and move on.  Maybe Mandy can save me from this trap if I just let her.  Suddenly, there's nothing I want more that to stay with this girl.

"You can be," I say, reaching for her hand.  "I'm so, sorry Mandy, I want to be with you, I really do."

She shakes her head.  "No," she says. The tears are flowing freely now and she's getting choked up as she speaks.  "You want to be with someone else.  I've seen it in your eyes, but I've chosen to ignore it.  We're at the age now that we all have some baggage, but some of us can set it aside and others just keep carrying it around.  I thought I could ignore that, I wanted to ignore that, but I can't."

"Mandy, I'm so sorry."

She nods, tears dripping off her cheeks.  "I know," she says softly.  "I know."  There's a brief silence, well, silent other than her sobs that I want so desperately to stop, but can't.  Then she takes a deep breath and looks up at me.  "Let's make this a clean break," she says.  "You and I weren't meant to be.  We're not in love and we never can be.  We were just pretending.  I hope you find what you're looking for Dave, but you can't find it with me.  I hope I find what I'm looking for, but I can't find it with you.  Good bye, Dave."

This is the strongest girl I've ever met.  I came in intending to break up with her, and she put herself in control, she took charge and in the most unmalicious way possible, turned it around to her letting me go.  Why am I always finding these things too late?  But no, I already knew she was strong.  This doesn't actually change anything.  As much as I admire her and care about her, I still don't love her.  This has to stop.

"Good-bye, Mandy," I say.  I stand up, take out my keys, remove the spare to her apartment and hand it to her.  She does the same for me.  Then I walk away.  I don't look back.

It's not until I close the door that I allow myself to ball.  I lean back against her door and start to cry.  Then I take a deep breath and walk back to my car where I continue to cry.  I don't know whom I'm crying for, Mandy or Clara or myself.  Maybe all three.  And then I suddenly remember something.  I open up my glove box and rummage through it until I find a card with a simple name and number written on it.  I pull out my cell phone in a rage and dial.

"This is Cornelius," the voice on the other side says.

"You bastard!" I shout.  "Who do you think you are?  What gives you the right to play with my life like that?"

I hear a sigh and then, "Which one are you?"

"The bar, the girl, Clara.  You ruined it all!"

"Hold on," he says, remarkably calm.  "I know where you are.  I'm on my way."

I don't know why I stay and wait for him.  Maybe it's because I want to see if he really knows where the hell I am.  I figure he must have been stalking me or something, in which case I should get out of here now, and probably warn Mandy, too, but I can't call her up and claim to warn her about a madman coming to her apartment complex minutes after I broke up with her.  She'll just think I'm insane.

So I just sit there waiting, wondering if he'll actually show, and then I see a car pull up right next to mine and a vaguely familiar man steps out.  Once my mind works it through and remembers him from the bar, I'm filled with rage all over again.  I jump out of my car, throwing the door open so that it slams into his, denting it and chipping away at the paint.  He doesn't seem surprised.  "Better than a broken nose," he says.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I shout, stepping towards him.

He frowns, but he doesn't seem intimidated.  I was really going for intimidating.  Strangely, when it doesn't work, I feel myself start to calm down.  "Just a man," he says.  "A misguided man.  I promise you, I was only trying to help."

I'm breathing heavily, but I manage to lower my voice to a normal speaking level.  "By reminding me about Clara?" I ask.  "By tainting my relationship with Mandy but making me think about Clara from the very start?"

He shakes his head.  "It was going to happen the same whether I talked to you or not," he says.  "I see that now.  But I was only trying to prevent it from happening like it did."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demand, my voice starting to grow in volume again.

He sighs.  "I know already that you won't believe this yet," he says.  "But I can see the future."

"You can what now?!"

He nods.  "I talked to you that night because I noticed you talking to that girl, Mandy, I guess it was, and I saw how it was all going to play out.  I didn't know who you were or who she was.  In fact, I still don't know your name.  But for whatever reason, I saw what was going to happen.  I saw her crying, I saw you crying, and I saw another face in pain as well, Clara was the name I saw you use for her.  I was trying to prevent that.  Instead, I seem to have made things even worse."

I feel myself calming down a little.  It's actually almost funny now.  I'm talking to a complete nut case.  "You're a complete nutcase," I say.

He shakes his head again.  "I know you think that," he says.  "I don't know why I feel such a strong need to make you believe me, but I think I owe it to you.  If I had just left you alone, things would have been better."

"You're damn right they would have been!" I exclaim.  "I would still be dating Mandy and we would have been happy."

He shakes his head yet again.  "Not at this point you wouldn't have been," he says.  "Today's events would have played out either way, though without this bit we're playing out now."  I open my mouth to protest but he continues, "I know you don't believe me.  Maybe I should just leave it at that, but I feel like I owe it to you to show you I didn't change your relationship, and honestly, I want some comfort for myself, too."

"Comfort!?" I exclaim, "you don't deserve..."

He turns and looks away from me.  He seems to be searching for something.  He looks at a tree and smiles slightly.  "There," he says pointing to the tree.  "I know it's not much and it won't convince you quite yet, but it's a start.  There's a squirrel in that tree.  In a few moments, it's going to run down the trunk and then back up.  A few moments after that, a woman wearing a floral head scarf walking a white standard poodle is going to walk down the sidewalk.  A few feet before she reaches the tree, the squirrel is going to run down the tree again.  The dog will see it, pull on the leash, and start barking.  The squirrel will run back on up the tree, but the dog will leap forward, pulling the woman towards the tree.  Her head scarf will fall down around her neck.  She'll get her dog back under control and walk onwards without correcting the scarf."

I just stare at him in amazement.  "What the hell...?"

"Shh," he says and points to the tree.  "Just watch."

I roll my eyes in disbelief, but nonetheless, I turn and look at the tree.  This is so stupid.  What a simple story he's made up.  Anyone can just make up a story to distract someone.  I half expect him to make a break for it while I'm staring at this stupid tree.  And then I see the squirrel run down the tree and back up.  Big deal, squirrels do that all the time.  And then the woman comes walking down the street.  I quickly turn to look at Cornelius to see if he's done something to signal her.  I don't see anything in his hands and he doesn't seem startled to have me looking at him.  "Just watch," he says.  So I turn and watch the scene play out exactly as he described.  I'm sure at this point I'm suppose to be impressed, but I'm really not.  This is ridiculous.

"You signaled her somehow," I say.

He shrugs.  "Possible," he says.  "In fact, that seems a lot more likely that my claim that I can actually see the future."

"So why are you still talking to me?" I demand throwing my hands up in the air.

He shrugs.  "You called me up, remember?" he says.

I do remember.  Why did I do that?  And why am I still talking to this man?  And why am I not still sitting in my car, crying my eyes out about Mandy or Clara or both?  If nothing else, this crazy person is a distraction from the pain.  And he actually seems harmless, other than the whole ruining my love life thing, but at least my life life doesn't feel in danger.  I sigh.  I might as well examine this further.  I have nothing better to do.  "Okay," I say.  "What else do you have, fortune cookie?"

Perspectives, Part 3a

I close my eyes and I see them still, the faces of all the past friends and lovers I've hurt or scared away, but I open my eyes and see Chloe and it all seems to melt away.  When I look at her I can actually smile, and I can forget.  Not forget fully.  The memory of the cruel things I've done to others can never be fully erased, and it shouldn't be.  But with Chloe, I have a second chance.  I truly have a second chance.

---

I love Andrew.  I truly do, with all of my heart I love him.  But sometimes I look at him and I wonder what he's hiding.  It's been nearly three months since he broke down in front of me.  I was afraid we were going to break up that night, but instead it seemed to be the beginning of our real relationship, or at least the beginning of what he seems to think is our real relationship.

I like the way things are.  It's comforting and safe.  I don't see any of the anger in him that he claimed to have once had.  But what scares me is that he doesn't talk about it anymore.  He was so afraid to bring it up.  For two months he kept all of it from me.  And then he gave me a taste, and then stopped.

I know what ever he's done, he isn't doing it now.  And I know that he loves me.  Sometimes I feel like he thinks his love for me is what is keeping him safe at work and in society.  I know he's not the monster he claimed to be, but I still feel like there is something he is hiding from me.

I shouldn't need to know.  I told him it doesn't matter and it doesn't.  Even though I told him that, though, part of me thought he was going to bring it up again anyway.  Part of me wanted to know the truth.  I don't want the truth to be bad.  But if it is bad, I want to know it.  Or maybe I don't.

I see what he is now, the love he shows me, the kindness with which he treats others and I know he's not a monster.  But I also still find it so hard to believe that he ever was cruel to anyone.  Is he hiding behind some mask for me?  And if he is, do I really want to take it off?

I can't ask him though.  Not after saying it didn't matter.  I just have to wait, patiently, to see if he wants to reveal more of his true self, if there is anything else to reveal.

---

I've noticed a change in Chloe.  She seems a little less comfortable around me now.  Could I be losing my rock?  Is she slowly slipping away?

She's told me it's fine, that she loves me, and I see in her eyes that it's true, but I see something else in her eyes, too.  A fear that never existed before.  It's not as bad as the fear I've seen from the others, but it's fear nonetheless and it makes me want to cry seeing her look at me that way.

I've been so good, so pure with her around.  I can't tell her the truth and lose her now.  But I can't keep these secrets and lose her that way either.  Which is worse, to tell her more of the monster I once was, or to keep her guessing?  Maybe it's better to keep her guessing.  She always tried to tell me it couldn't be as bad as I thought it was.  Even now, her imagination of what I've done is probably far more mild than what I've actually done.

But what if it isn't imagination?  What if she's found out about the true me?  But that's impossible.  That was another man, from ages ago, with a different face and a different name.  There's no way she knows who I really am.

But shouldn't she know?  Doesn't she have a right to know?  This is the longest I've ever gone without a hint of the monster showing it's face.  Even those who stayed with me longer than this had had a taste by now.  I hope beyond hope that the beast is slipping away, but how can I ever know?  How can I ever really know?  I should tell her, I really should, but I can't, not now.  I've told her enough.  I've told her what I know I am.  We've gone too far for me to ruin it now.

---

Andrew's gotten quiet again.  I can tell he wants to talk to me, but he won't.  I don't want to push him.  I don't need to know.  Not really.  All that matters is who he is now.  My only fear is that this past that haunts him so is coming back to take the man I love.  Andrew is strong, and I pray he is strong enough to keep that from happening, and if he isn't, I've vowed to myself that I will be that strength for both of us.

---

It shouldn't have happened, not the way it did.  I was thinking of her when it happened.  I was at work, thinking of her, thinking of when I should tell her more and what I should tell her when he interrupted me.  I'm not even sure what he said or what I said back, but then next thing I knew, the whole office was staring at me and the HR rep on their way to have a talk with me.  Strike one.

I just stared at him in disbelief.  "Why would you do this to me?"  He tried to back away, but I stepped forward.  "What did you think you were doing?"  I forgot everyone was staring and just kept yelling until the HR rep arrived.  Strike two.

The HR rep was a lovely person, I'm sure, but she walked in at the wrong time.  I was still fully enraged.  I just wasn't thinking straight, wasn't really even aware of what I was doing.  I didn't mean to turn and slap her.  Why would anyone mean to do that?  But it happened and that was certainly enough.  Strike three.

---

I was still at work when he called me.  He was crying.  I'd never heard him cry before, not like this.  He said something like, "I thought I was better."  And I definitely heard the word monster.  I was in somewhat of a daze as I asked the other barista to cover me.  I had to go home early, I said.  It was a family emergency.  I didn't want to say that I was going to pick my boyfriend up from jail.

---

For some reason I'll never understand, the HR rep decided not to press any charges, but there was no chance they were ever letting me back in that office.  I had lost my job and I was so sure I was about to lose my girlfriend, but as we drove away from the police station, she glanced at me and she actually smiled.

---

The woman he had hit was at the police station when I got there.  She seemed shocked more than anything.  She was sitting alone, but one of the cops pointed her out to me.  Before I paid the bail money, I went and talked to her.  I wanted to make sure that she was okay, that she felt safe with me releasing the man I thought I loved back onto the streets, the man who had certainly been a monster to her.

She seemed to be in shock more than anything.  "We'd never have any complaints about him before," she said, shaking her head.  "It was like he just snapped.  I had even seen him before, in the cafeteria or in meeting rooms.  He usually ate alone, but he was always friendly to people.  And he always seemed very respectful of everyone.  I don't know what happened."

I nodded as if I actually understood what was happening.  "I'm not sure he did either," I said, thought part of me knew that he understood all too well.

She sighed.  "Well, we can't let him back to work," she said.  "But I don't know that fining him or putting him in jail will do any good anyway."  And then she turned to me with the last remnants of fear in her eyes and said, "You be careful."

I nodded.  "I will," I said.

I knew I couldn't leave him; not now.  It was really time for me to be strong enough for the both of us.

Perspectives Part 2

Well, I finally told her the truth, or at least most of it.  We were over at her place, sitting on the couch, kissing, when I felt her hand on my thigh, and as it moved up closer and closer I knew what was about to happen.  Once again, she was taking charge, doing what I had shown fear to do.  It was bound to happen, we had been building for weeks, but it couldn't happen, not yet, not before I had told her...

---

We were making out on the couch and I decided to just go for it.  I knew he wanted me and I wanted him so I didn't know what was stopping us.  But he stopped me.  He grabbed my wrist, not forcefully, but gently, and pulled it away.  He scooted back a couple inches and looked into my eyes.  I knew he was finally going to tell me his secrets, what he was so afraid of, what was causing him to pull back.  I was ready.  I was ready to hear a tragic story from his past, some traumatic experience from childhood, a lover or friend who had left him in the worse possible way, some horrible crime he had witnessed.  What I wasn't ready for was what he actually said.

"I'm a monster."

That was it.  I didn't understand, didn't believe, and for a moment, just a moment, I wasn't sure what to say.

---

She looked at me in confusion, like she didn't know the meaning of the word.  I figured she was probably wondering what kind of monster, was trying to figure out how to ask me for more details, but instead, when she gained her composure she simply said, "No you aren't."

---

He dropped my hand and just looked at me.  It saw tears starting to form in his eyes.  "No, really, I am," he insisted.  I was about to protest, but he held his hand up to stop me.  "No let me finish," he insisted.  There was no anger in his voice, only pain.  So I scooted back to the edge of the couch and listened.

---

She moved away from me finally, as well she should.  I was sure she had heard some of the evil slip through in my voice.  I couldn't even tell when it was happening all the time anymore.  But I couldn't stop now.  I had to tell her, at least as much as I could.

---

I was convinced that it was a lie.  Perhaps a lie he believed, but a lie nonetheless.  Someone he cared about, maybe multiple someones, had told him he was a monster and he had somehow come to believe it.  It wasn't true.  It couldn't be true.  I had seen enough of him to know he was no monster, but still, I let him speak and I was shocked when he jumped right into it, telling me of things I was certain he could have never really done with evil intentions in mind.

"Remember when you asked me if I had pets?" he asked.  I nodded.  "Well, I used to have a pet.  A dog.  His name was Charlie.  Charlie was a great dog and I loved having him around, but what day there was... an accident of sorts, and I killed him.  I didn't mean to, but it was my fault nonetheless."  Before I could react to the shock of any of that and think to ask how Charlie died and how it could have possibly been his fault, he went on, "And then there was my friend, the one I went to Europe with.  Remember, you asked about him?  Well we were best friends for about three years.  He had seen what I was, knew the way I could become, and he still stuck with me, he still had hope in me that I could be a better person, but then I did it to him.  I didn't kill him, please don't think I killed him."  I couldn't believe Andrew would even think I would think that, but I just let him continue.  "We got into a really bad argument one time and I punched him in the face, more than once.  I nearly did a lot worse, but I managed to control it, to stop myself.  Of course he never spoke to me again after that.  Why would he?  There was no way I could apologize for what I had done to him."  I saw the tears actually flowing now as he went on.  "And work.  I haven't hurt anyone there yet, not really, but I can tell the guys are afraid of me.  They're so afraid they don't even report my behavior to anyone."

At that point, I couldn't help it, I just had to jump in.  "Maybe that's because there's nothing to report."

---

I couldn't believe it.  Here I was, pouring out my soul to her and she still didn't believe it.  The monster in me was starting to get angry, pushing me to show her what I really was, but I suppressed it.  I couldn't do that to her,  not to her.  Instead I just held out my hand and she took it.  "No, Chloe, there is, there really is."

---

I didn't want to let him go.  I wanted him to stay, to hold him and comfort him and tell him everything would be alright.  But how could I convince him?  He was convinced he was a monster and no matter what I was going to say, he wouldn't believe otherwise; I just needed to give him time, and to keep caring for him, to show him that I knew what he really was even if he didn't.

---

I wanted her to be right, for it to be true that I wasn't as bad as I thought I was, but I knew how bad I really was and she didn't.  She hadn't been there; she hadn't seen the things I had done.  She brought out the best in me; she had never seen the real me, the dark me, the one that everyone else feared.  I had to show her who I really was, but I couldn't show her who I really was.  Maybe it was better this way, for me to suffer silently and let her think I was good.  What else could I do?  The whole point of all of this was that I didn't want to hurt her.  Should I just leave?  Was it possible for me to stay with her?

I didn't know what to do and so I left, just for then.  I would call her tomorrow.  I would try again to explain.  I would make her actually understand and if then she still wanted to stay, I would be the happiest man in the world.

---

He didn't call the next day and I didn't see him in the coffee shop, not for days.  I tried calling him but I only got his voice mail.  I thought about going to his work, but to be honest, I was a little afraid.  Could they be true, the things he said?  He had never been a monster to me.  Could he really be a monster to others?  Why would he even bother to tell me if I never saw it?  Did he really think he would hurt me?  When he had said that before I thought he meant in an emotional way, but after that night, I wondered if he really thought he was capable of hurting me physically.

I didn't see any hatred or anger in him.  I would have never thought he was capable of hurting anyone.  I still wanted to understand.  I just couldn't believe any of it was true.  That it was really happening.  I finally resolved that if I hadn't heard from him by the end of that next weekend, I would go to work and see for myself what kind of man he claimed he really was.

---

I was angry and hurt and scared.  I didn't go to work for three days for fear of how I might treat the people there.  I really didn't want to get fired, not again.  I wanted to be good I really did.  Chloe made me good.  I thought about it.  I hadn't been doing so bad at work since I met her.  In fact, a couple weeks ago, one of the other employees had actually smiled at me.  Maybe I was getting better.  She was making me better.  It seemed I needed her.  But how could I justify it?  I needed her, but what possible use could she have for a man like me?

---

He showed up on my doorstep Sunday night.  "I'm a mess," he said.  That was it.  That was all he had to say.  I didn't know if he meant for exaggerating his problems or if he meant those problems themselves, but it didn't matter.  All that mattered was that it was him and he was there.  No one made me feel so wonderful and beautiful and valued as he did.  I knew I was all those things even without him, he just made me feel it so much stronger, and there was no one else I wanted to be with.

---

Any guilt or fear I may have felt melted away until there was only her and me, and when the sun came up the next day and we were still together, her lying in the bed next to me, actually turning to me and smiling, somehow it felt like everything was going to be okay.  I didn't have to tell her all of it.  I told her what I could and she loved me still.  My strength.  She loved me still.

---

Perspectives - Part 1

He smiled at me today.  He's been coming into the coffee shop every morning for two weeks and this is the first time he seemed to notice me.  I'm not sure he's noticed anything about me, but at least he noticed something.  I've noticed his eyes the most, a piercing blue like tiny hot flames.  I'd think he could gaze right through me.  I know his name, too.  I write it on his cup for him every day.  "Andrew."  I don't even have to ask for it any more.  Maybe that's why he smiled.  People like to be recognized, to feel known, even if they aren't.

What do I really know about Andrew?  He always orders the same thing.  Well, almost the same thing.  The coffee's the same, but the muffin varies from day to day.  I also know that he seems to be a business man of some sort.  He's always wearing a suit and a tie.  It looks like a pretty nice suit to me, not top of the line, but up there.  Of course, I don't know much about suits.  But anyway, even though he's a businessman and I've seen him take out a cell phone and look at it, he never places or receives any calls while he's in the coffee shop.  Oh, and I know he's not married.  That one is important.  And he doesn't appear to be much older than me, so I imagine that he either has a pretty well off family or is doing pretty well himself, based on the way he looks, oh and the car he drives.

Now I know, this all seems very superficial.  We haven't exchanged more than a few pleasantries aside from me taking his order.  But there's something about him that intrigues him.  I think I'd like to get to know him better, but it would be weird for me to ask him out, so I just have to keep exchanging the pleasantries, maybe step it up a little so he gets the idea, and wait for him to make his move.

---

I saw Chloe again this morning.  It's already nice that it's Friday, but seeing her makes it even better.  I know its ridiculous that I keep going back to this same coffee shop just to see her, but she's like a little ray of sunshine with her long blonde hair and green eyes.  Today I think I made her blush.  I don't really smile a lot, but I think I must have at her today from the way she looked back at me.  I think she likes me, too.  I really want to ask her out, but I'm afraid of what might happen, afraid she might find out what I really am.  I don't want to hurt anyone, but it seems like I always do.

---

I was closing up the shop tonight when I saw Andrew for the first time outside my service role.  He was walking down the opposite side of the street and as I turned away from the door I saw him stop and glance at me and then turn away and keep walking.  I very nearly shouted out at him, but instead I just watched him go until he turned a corner a couple blocks down.  He never looked back.

---

I saw a schedule behind the counter at the coffee shop the other day, saying who was closing each day.  I had seen that the next day was Chloe so I decided I was going to go for a walk that evening and finally ask her out.  I walked up and down the street opposite the coffee shop a few times waiting for her to come out, but when she finally did, she turned and looked right at me and I was overcome with such dread that I just couldn't do it.  I talk a big talk at work and play the tough guy at work, but I can't even ask a pretty girl out.  Really though, that's part of the reason why I can't ask a pretty girl out.  She needs someone who can really be there for her.  Not someone who's going to be asking for so much in return.

---

"Do you like me?"

I can't believe I actually walked up to him and asked him that today.  He usually takes his coffee and muffin and goes, but today he sat down, right before my break time, and started reading a newspaper so I decided there was no better time than now.  If he wasn't going to ask me out, maybe I should ask him out after all.

I think I saw him jump when I spoke those words, it seemed like he nearly spilled his coffee, but he recovered quickly as he set down the paper, pushed his coffee aside, and looked up at me with those deep, piercing eyes of his.  And he smiled.

"Maybe I do," he said.

I fought to keep from smiling back.  I probably looked ridiculous, but I powered on and asked him, "Then why haven't you asked me out?"

He actually laughed at that.  He suddenly seemed more at ease than I had ever seen him and I realized he had just been waiting on me all along.  "Why haven't you asked me out?" he asked, leaning back casually in his chair.

I decided I might as well smile at this point.  "I think I am right now," I told him.

He rubbed his hand across his face, seeming to get a little nervous again, but then he looked back at me and said, "Dinner this Friday?  7pm?"

"I work until 8," I said.

"8pm then," he said.  "I can meet you here and we can go somewhere nice."

"Not too nice if I'm going straight from work," I said.

"Well, we could always just get a cup of coffee," he said with a mischievious grin.

Suddenly I felt like I'd known Andrew for a very long time.  I wanted to give him a playful punch, like you might to someone you're already dating and comfortable around, but I didn't.  I just rolled my eyes at him and said, "Ha ha.  If you want to give me time to go home and change I can meet you back here and we can get something a little stronger to drink."

"Stronger than coffee?" he asked in mock confusion.

"Is 9pm good?" I asked.

"You must not live far from here if all you need is an extra hour," he said.

I couldn't help myself as I leaned in closer and whispered, "Maybe if you're lucky you'll find out."

---

Chloe couldn't be a better girl for me.  I was so worried that the pretty face meant a delicate soul.  Too delicate for someone like me.  But I found out today that she's bolder than I realized.  While I was stewing about whether I could really ask her out, whether there was really a chance she could become part of my life, she made a move on me.  I don't know what this is that I'm feeling.  This isn't the first girl I've gone out with, but she's the first who's made me feel this way in a long time.  When I first felt this way, I was so young I thought it was love.  I forgot what it felt like.  It can't be love, I hardly know her, but if it's not love, then what is it?

---

I've found I don't have to drink much to let guys think they're in control.  One or two drinks and I can act drunk enough that I can see who they really are while still recognizing what's really happening.  Andrew was strange when I started acting a little more giddy.  He didn't seem as comfortable as he was before, like he was afraid something might happen, something I thought we both wanted to happen.  Of course, I didn't want him to come on too strong, that's part of what I'm looking for with my little game.  But I wanted him to at least show some interest, not completely retreat like he seemed to be doing.  I finally had to break out of it and ask him what was wrong.

---

How could I tell her what was wrong?  Here was this amazing girl sitting across from me, obviously acting drunker than she really was, giving me all the right signals, and I couldn't do anything.  What was wrong was me.  I was starting to think this was a big mistake.  She couldn't be a part of who I was.  She was far too good for me.  So I just told her I was worn out and that we'd have to do this another time.

---

Well, he had seemed a little tired in the shop time morning, but on Wednesday when I had asked him out, he had seemed fine.  Could his week really have gone downhill just like that?  He was often quiet in the coffee shop, but this was different.  And he had seemed excited for our date yesterday.  I wasn't quite sure what was happening, but I was pretty sure there was something he wasn't telling me.  I wanted to ask what was really wrong, but I didn't want to pressure him, but I didn't want to lose him before I'd even had a chance to see who he really was either.

"Tomorrow." I said.

He just stared at me.  This wasn't the man I knew, little as I knew him, I knew he wasn't this.

"We'll do this again tomorrow," I said.  "Get a good night's sleep and don't worry about whatever it is that's bothering you.  You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

---

I almost told her right there.  She deserved to know, but I knew she wasn't ready yet.  Instead I must smiled and touched her hand, gently, just enough to hopefully show her I did care.  "Thank you," I said.  "I promise you, someday you'll understand."  And then I frowned again as I realized as I said those words that I really didn't want her to.

---

Date part two certainly went better than date part one.  Andrew was like a totally different person.  Well, he was more like the person I thought he was.  We talked and smiled and flirted.  He told me that he is in fact a business man of sorts.  He works in marketing at a pet supply company.  I asked him if he owned a pet and he said no, but seemed a little uncomfortable about it.  Seemed like a strange thing to be uncomfortable about, especially if you worked with pet supplies, but I let it slide.  Besides, I had a much better time hearing him tell me about the trip he took to Europe two years ago with one of his old buddies.  At the end though, when I asked him if he still kept in touch with the friend, he seemed uncomfortable again.  He seemed like a really nice guy, but I did think it was strange that he got uncomfortable when I asked questions that naturally flowed from the stories he told.  I wasn't sure I was quite comfortable enough to invite him over yet, but I certainly wanted to see him again.  There was a strange air of mystery about him, and I wanted to figure it out.

---

It had been too long since I'd gone on a proper date.  I'd forgotten how much of my life was corrupted by things I didn't want to share on a first date, or even a second date, whichever this was.  I wanted to tell her so much, but in the end I felt like I was saying so little.  I could tell she wanted more, and it seemed like she didn't quite trust me.  I wondered again if I should just call it off, but this was an amazing girl.  If anyone would be able to not only help me but also make me truly happy, it was her.  And I really truly hope that I could make her happy, too.  I would just have to plan better next time.  Figure out a little more what I could really say, and work my way up to the other stuff, as long as I could get her to stick around long enough to get to the other stuff.

---

He finally kissed me this time.  It was our third date and he finally actually kissed me.  It was a wonderful kiss, just perfect as far as first kisses go.  It was outside my apartment building, after I finally decided he could walk me home.  I just wanted to take in the moment, and I sighed as I opened my eyes to see him looking like he was about to cry.  I started to frown, but then he smiled at me and said, "I'm sorry, I really am.  You just make me so happy."  I smiled back, kissed him on the check and said, "Good night."  I suppose maybe I should have invited him in, but it didn't seem quite right somehow.  He didn't protest or say anything.  He just let me go and when I got up to my apartment and looked out the window for him, he was gone.

---

I felt bad lying to her.  I really did.  But how could I tell her that I was crying because I was afraid I was going to hurt her?  And it wasn't really a lie, she did make me happy, it was just that thinking about how happy she made me made me sad instead.  Can I never really be happy?  Can I never really just be with someone without thinking about the past and how I'm going to ruin everything?  Maybe this time will be different.  Maybe this time she'll be strong enough to say.  How I hope she will.

---

I really can't figure him out.  He's so witty and kind the one moment and then quite and almost frightening the next.  Not frightening like I feel in danger or anything, just frightening like I don't know what he's thinking.  I really want to know what he's thinking.  I've invited him into my apartment a couple times now, but nothing's happened.  I think he wants it to happen but it's like he's afraid.  I know he's been with women before.  The way he flirts with me, I'm sure he must have, and he's even let mention of a past girlfriend slip.  So if he's been with other girls, what is it about me that makes him hesitate?  What is he so afraid of?  And is it a good thing or a bad thing?  I really want to know, and I'm so close to asking him, but part of me is sure he'll just back away.  So I just keep giving it time, letting myself appreciate all the wonderful things I've come to know about him, and doing my best to convince myself that whatever he's hiding can't be that bad.  I'm just not sure how much longer I can wait.

---

I really want to tell her.  It's been almost two months now and we haven't slept together even though I can tell she wants to and God knows I want to.  I just don't feel right doing it like this.  I've done it before I showed them every time before and they always left me.  With Chloe, she deserves to know first, and she deserves to know soon, I just have to find the right way to tell her.

Forever

Everyone wants to live forever, but why do they want to do it in this dirty, depressing world?

What other option is there?

I don't know.  Maybe there's something more, something we can't see, something besides all of this.

Not this again.

Is it really so hard to believe?  Centuries ago people had no knowledge of so many things that we take for granted today.  Maybe there is still more we have yet to discover.

Yes, but you're talking about some sort of spiritual world on another plane of existence.  All the scientific knowledge we've uncovered can be explained by science.  You can't use our growing scientific knowledge to say it's possible there's some non-scientific knowledge we have yet to discover.

First of all, it doesn't have to be a fully spiritual world as you put it.  And even if it is "spiritual" maybe there is something physical, something scientific to it.  Maybe we just don't have the tools to observe it, maybe we never will.  Maybe everything does link back to something physical, but it's so intertwined so deeply connected that there are even today things we know to be true that we can't link to physics quite so easily.

Like what?

Like emotions.  I say something mean to someone and they cry.  Why is that?  We know it happens, we know it has something to do with the brain.  Can you explain it in great detail, they physical process that makes that happen?

No, but I suppose there is probably someone who can, or at least will be one day.

Sure.  And I'm not saying that no one could ever understand this other world, this something more that there might be, I'm just saying that we don't, in our limited current state.  Just like you don't understand the physics of emotion, you also don't understand what more could be out there.  Our knowledge is so limited that we don't even know what we don't know.

None of this is proving anything.  You can postulate all you want that there is something better than this world.  Anyone can say there could be something more that they can't detect or explain.  You could never conclude whether they are right or wrong because the very nature of their claim is that it can't be proven.

I never said anything about proof.  Just about possibility.

Exactly, and I'm saying that's not good enough for me.  Anything is possible in a sense, but our world is based on logic.  You could say it's possible the sun will explode tomorrow, but due to our observations of the universe so far, I can say that it's so unlikely as to be practically impossible.

I understand everything you're saying.  It appeals to me even.  I want to understand everything.  I want there to be a logic explanation to it all.  I want to be able to say "this is" and "this isn't".  Sometimes though, the evidence is inconclusive.  I'm not asking you to blindly believe something that makes no sense.  There is a certain sense, some degree of evidence, for this possibility of something more.

What evidence?

Well, I admit, most of it isn't the hard physical evidence that you're probably looking for.  Some of it is the very complexity of this world, broken though it is.  Sure, it makes some sense that it would arise naturally, but other times I wonder if that's really all there is to it:  random chance and happenstance.  What makes us even aware of all the complexity?  Why is that even necessary to our survival?  Is there something more prompting us, guiding us to seek more knowledge about the world?  Why do we know so much and yet so little?  I know you'll say that doesn't prove anything.

It doesn't.

But it makes you think.  Or at least it makes me think.

Okay fine, whatever.  You can marvel at the world and wonder if there might be some higher power that had a hand in putting it together all you want.  I choose not to buy into any of that and I don't see how you can hope to change my mind.

I'm not trying to change your mind.  I don't even know where my own mind stands on the issue.  It's just interesting and makes me wonder.  It makes lots of other people wonder, too.

So?

So, there are lots of people who have felt something more.  Not just crazy people, but normal otherwise rational people, too.  They've felt a sense of something greater.  They've found peace from it, even.  Yes, I suppose they could just be imagining it all, but what if they aren't?  And so what if they are?

Well, if they are, they're believing in a lie.  They're delusional and wasting they're life on a fantasy.

Ah, but if this life is all we have, and it's so tiny, so finite, what does it really matter if we waste it?

What do you mean what does it matter?  Of course it matters!  If this life is the only thing we have, we have to make the most of it!  We have to live, love, enjoy it, make it better for others.  We fight to preserve this life.  It's what we do.  It's in our nature!  It's how we survive.

But it's all so small and sad.  Don't you want there to be something more?

Well, I suppose, maybe that would be nice.  But wanting something doesn't make it true.

And fearing something doesn't make it untrue.

What is it you think I'm afraid of?

I don't know.  That's between you, and well, if there's really nothing more, just you.

What's that supposed to mean?

You believe that what you can observe, or at least what you could hope to one day observe, is all there is, right?

Yes.

So what if there is something you could one day hope to observe that you're just completely ignoring and that thing is the most important thing of all and you just don't realize it, even though other people are trying to tell you that they are convinced it exists, you just ignore them because you haven't seen it for yourself.

I feel like we're going in circles.  Didn't we already talk about all this proof and evidence crap?

Sort-of, but I'm trying to approach it from a slightly different angle.  Now this thing that these other people tell you exists, it's a good thing, a wonderful thing, a thing that makes life better, both now and for what they call eternity.  But you don't believe there is an eternity and based on that, you don't buy into anything else they're saying.

Yeah.  It all just sounds ridiculous to me.

Right.  But what if you're wrong?

Then I'm wrong.  But I know I'm not.

But how do you know that?

Well, I mean, I haven't seen it.

Do you think that there is anything in this would that you've never seen and yet it exists?

Of course there is!  I have a very limited scope and view.  There are tons of things that exist that I've never seen.

So why can't this other thing, this being or entity, or even just the concept of eternity be one of those things?

Because it doesn't make sense!

It doesn't?  Why do the other things you believe exist but have never seen make sense?

Because other people have seen those things!  There's proof and data to back them up!

Okay, do you believe it's possible there are things that no one has seen that could yet exist.

Yes, I suppose...

Why can't this be one of those things?

We went over this already!  There's no physical aspect, nothing to see, because it doesn't exist!

But people have felt it, observed it.  You are just going to throw that out entirely because you haven't observed it personally?

Whatever you're talking about is supposedly eternal and infinite.  If it's so infinite, if it's everywhere, wouldn't everyone sense it?

Maybe, maybe not.  That's a fair objection, but I don't think it's at all conclusive.

None of this is conclusive!

Okay, well, I think we have mostly gone in a circle now, though that's not what I intended.  Let's get back to what I was trying to say before.

Okay fine.  Whatever.

I'm not trying to upset you.  I'm trying to have a thoughtful and intelligent conversations.

Yeah I know.  It just seems so...

So what?

I don't know.  Ridiculous?

I don't think it's that ridiculous, but even if it is, there are plenty of other ridiculous things in this world.

Okay.  Fair enough, I suppose.  What were you really trying to say before?

I just wanted to raise a thought, and this is not really my own, I got it from someone else mind you, but what is it really that makes us so resistant to believing there is something more to this existence?

I don't know.  Because the evidence indicates this is all there is?

I've already expressed my thought that there is evidence to the contrary.  I'm not talking about that anymore.  I'm just wondering from a deeper intellectual level, what's the harm in believing there's something more?

I told you before, it's a waste of time.  A waste of energy and resources.

But is it really?  Sure, the belief itself might turn out to be a waste, but a belief in something more should really prompt people to help one another, at least that's what I've seen.  This greater power, this something more, is usually kind and loving and is meant to bring out the best in people.  So if there is something out there, even if it's not really out there, that does give people extra motivation to help one another, isn't it worth it for them to believe in that thing, to draw on its power, whether real or imaginary, to make this world a better place?

That sounds nice, but it sounds like you're okay with people believing a lie that way.

Well, I do want people to know what is true.  I don't want to intentionally deceive people.  But I think we can agree that this is an area where opinions vary.  You can't prove it one way or the other, I think we've established that.  But if people are convinced of this something more and it serves to make the world a better place even if it doesn't actually exist, why should we deter them.

I suppose you're right.  There's no harm in believing in something that ultimately leads you to make life better for others, as long as your belief doesn't end up hurting others in the end.  But what if this belief does end up hurting others in the end?  And what about those who don't share the belief?

Well, it seems like if the belief is carried out in it's true spirit, it won't hurt anyone.  And I admit, those who don't share the belief may have to suffer some annoyance from those who do believe it.

Much as I am suffering from you.

And I do apologize for that.  But that leads into my next thought.  If those people who believe in this greater power are really right, isn't it worth some minor annoyances from them if they are ultimately able to bring people to this "something more" along with them?

But if they're wrong, the annoyances are just annoyances and were a total waste of time.

We don't have that much time anyway.

Which is why we should make the most of every moment!

And isn't that what they're trying to do?

In their own misguided way.

But what if it's not misguided?  What if they actually do understand and know something that you and I don't?  What if there really is more to this life and they have the key?  Isn't it worth wasting a little of our time now if there's a possibility of something greater than you could ever imagine, and more than that, something both greater and eternal?

If I could be convinced of it, and if my conviction it was right, it would totally be worth it.  But I don't think I could ever be convinced of it.

But don't you want to be convinced of it, and don't you want it to be right?  Wouldn't it be wonderful if it were true?

I suppose it would be.  But how can we know one way or the other?

We can't.

Exactly.  And I want to know.

Why is knowing so important?  Why can't believing be enough?

I don't know.

Well, I suppose that says it all.

I don't think I feel like thinking about this anymore right now.

That's okay.  I'll still be around tomorrow, at least I believe I will based on probability and prior observations.

Ha ha.

I wasn't trying to be funny.

You're really starting to believe in some of this, aren't you?  This forever stuff?

I think maybe I am.

I never would have thought you would.

I think there are lots of things no one would have thought of.

Just Write

To get better at something you should just do it and so I have to just write, about nothing about anything.  I have to write about something.  I just write whatever comes to mind.  I write about a writer who has nothing to write about.  Is all of this alright?  Is it alright to use write so often in so many sentences.  It all goes around in circles.  There was finally a sentence without the words write or right in them!   So little to say, but I have to keep saying it.  The only way we get better is to just write whatever.

Distractions, semi-distractions.  Maybe I might want to do other things, but this is okay.  Sometimes all you see is your own soul.  Pause.