Funny Mental Insights: 66: Really, What WAS I Thinking?

I am to write about the worst meal I've had as if it's happening now. What follows is not entirely factual, but it is true.

I still like to look at her, and I still wonder at the marvelous things that happen in her mind. She is really beautiful, even though this dinner is more than awkward.

We broke up a few days ago. I can almost hear the older me telling the me today that this is a really bad idea.

Still, we made the reservations for dinner, and I had the tickets to the Homecoming dance, and we were still friends, so why not have one last after-breakup date?

At least, that's what I was thinking.

In case you were wondering.

You know, like "What was he thinking?"

I love her smile, but I hate that smile. I wish she'd just frown and tell me she thinks this is a bad idea too. Instead, she puts on that smile, that pity smile, that smile that says that she's having a rotten time, but she's sure that I must be having a pretty good time because I'm with her, so she'll do me a huge favor.

I should just take her home now. Still, we've ordered and leaving now would be rude to the waitress and the restaurant.

This is really uncomfortable, but not just because there's not much to say. I mean, there really isn't much to say, and when I try to make small talk, she puts on that smile again. It is uncomfortable because of that, but it's not just that.

The thing is, I see here again, as I saw a few days ago when we agreed to stop dating, that something inside me was dying. No, that something was dead.

Inside me, there used to be a growing a kind of hope, a kind of vision of myself, a concept of my life that had her in it. I remember what it felt like to have her head rest against my chest. I thought how much I loved her artist's mind, her way of seeing shadows or lines in a way I had never imagined. I thought how much I delighted even in how she sat, with her hands on her lap, palms up as if meditating.

And now, I realized it was gone. There are plenty of reasons for us to break up (we can start with the smile), and I'm not sorry we broke up. I still like her, and it bothers me that we can't even make small talk now.

I tell her that I think this is kind of a bad idea. She admits that she came only because she kind of felt sorry for me. I tell her not to be, that I'll be OK.

And I will be.