A Conversation About Nothing

I was sitting on the tabletop of a picnic table enjoying the view of the mountains I had grown up with in a park I had played in as a child. I hadn’t been here in a long while. I left here and made a life somewhere far away more years ago than I had been alive at the time I left.

I was aware that just down the road was the house my one-time love had grown up in. I wondered whether his mom still lived there. I know his father passed away several years ago. Even knowing I was in such proximity to his family home; I was surprised to see him when he pulled up and got out of his truck. I think the surprise came from the realization that he recognized me after all the years, it was close to 30.

I supposed I had aged well. I heard all the time how good I still looked when I came to visit long-time friends. I never really thought about it, but I guess the coastal weather had been kind to my skin.

I waived and said “Hello, it’s good to see you.” “H’lo” he said in the low rumble that had always felt like a rough caress on my skin. I gestured to the empty table beside me and asked if he had a minute. My exterior was calm, but my stomach was quaking. I had always felt this way around him. He sat down and the conversation started.

“What’s happened over the years?” He asked, I smiled a bit. “It’s been 30 years, that’s a lot to cover.”

It’s been 28 years; I want to know. I’ve missed you. “I’d like to know how you have been too. Will you tell me? There was a long pause, “Yeah”.

“I had a few jobs, a few men then I settled down and had a son and good career. I took care of everything. The bills, the home repairs and car repairs, the children, the pets, the shopping, the cooking, the appointments, the laundry, the cleaning, the vacation planning, birthdays, holidays – all of it. After 22 years I lost my son, soon after that, my partner, my sister, and my parents. I retired from my job, now I’m trying to figure out what’s next. I don’t know what to do with myself when I don’t have anyone to take care of. I hate going home to an empty house every day. Sometimes over the years when it seemed I never had a moment to myself or enough quiet time to form a thought I desperately wanted to live alone. How could I have known I would feel so lost.”

“I couldn’t handle the emptiness at home, so I left. I have friends and family scattered all over that I can go visit. Traveling is a temporary distraction, but it’s better than trying to fill the emptiness with substance abuse and bad relationships.

“I need to learn to be alone, to think, to dream, to create, to be still. All of that is very foreign to me. I think what scares me the most is that if I am still and quiet for long enough, I will realize that I am nothing. That the emptiness isn’t in the house, it’s inside of me.”

I had finally run out of words. I was appalled that I had shared such things. Especially galling was that I had shared them with a man I hadn’t seen for 28 years, a man that had once treated me like I was nothing.

“Nothing!” “How could I have remembered you, missed you, loved you without even seeing you or hearing your voice for 28 years if you are nothing?”

“I know I wasn’t much for talking when we were together so you may not have been aware, but I was in a similar place then. I had lost my son, my wife, my job, I had broken my back and felt that would never regain my strength. I was terrified, I didn’t know what to do. I chose to fill my time and ease my fear with substance abuse and inappropriate relationships. Then I met you. You were something different, special. You were full of kindness, courage, and ambition. I wanted everything you were. For a short time, I thought I could have it, that we could be happy. You were so open and honest about what you had been through, just like now. It seemed like you could handle anything. I didn’t realize you were so vulnerable. You started indulging in my bad habits and we went down a bad path together. I was afraid I would destroy you, so I pushed you out of my life and I self-destructed. I never did forget you though. Because you were so honest about your difficult past and still so open to the possibility of a good future, I believed it could be possible for me too.”

“To be that kind of light is definitely something.”

After that he got up and walked away. I never did get to find out what he had been up to for the last 28 years.