One or Two Choices

It was a clear and starry night, and two people sat in a field underneath a blanket of stars.

“Which one is that again?” one pointed out, eyes trying to adjust to the dark.

“Oh, that one? That’s Sirius,” their companion answered, settling into the grass. They had brought a small picnic with them, and the first of the two was slowly unpacking, still not quite used to the dark. This had been their weekly ritual for several years now, and they hadn’t missed a week, except for when it rained. Every week. Ten o’clock at night on Saturday. A basket of bread, wine, and cheese—really more of a snack than a meal. And they would sit for hours, watching the stars, talking about stars and life and all the things that two long-time friends would talk about over wine.

“And that really bright one over there,” the first one said, handing a plastic cup full of wine to their companion “Is that a star or is that a planet?”

“Dunno,” their companion spoke, absentmindedly clinking their plastic cup with their friend’s. “I suppose it could be a planet? Seems to bright to be a star,”

“You know a lot about planets and space and stuff, right?” asked the first one.

“’Suppose I do, yea”

“Well, why don’t you teach it?”

Their companion looked at them. “I can hardly get the kids I teach now to be interested in their daily reading. They’re not interested in the stars”

The first one frowned. “But you didn’t even try to get your schooling to teach about planets and stars”

“No, you’re right,” their companion mumbled, taking a sip of wine, then a bite of bread. “Guess I didn’t”

Their companion looked at them, then sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”

Their companion shot them a look. The two had been friends for many, many years. Though life had tried to take them in different directions with things like school and work and love and loss, they each remained a constant in each other’s life. Now they were older, they each had jobs and families, both had loved and lost, yet the only thing that remained the same was this.

Of course, they knew when something was wrong.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you,” their companion spoke.

“Nothing’s bothering me,” the first one defended.

“Oh, sure,” their companion muttered, taking another sip of wine “I’ll believe that one,”

The first one fidgeted, taking a sip from their wine. They looked up.

“Can you see the Milky Way from here?”

“You’re changing the subject,”

“I am not, I’m asking a question”

Their companion looked out in the direction the first one was looking. Hundreds of stars seemed to dot the sky like freckles on the first one’s face, but there were no galaxies to be found. At least not here.

“No, not here. Not in this part of the world”

The first one took a sip, then asked “Well, where can you see it?”

“Certain places in North America, mainly places where there’s less light pollution,” their companion answered, taking a bite of cheese.

They sat in silence for a moment. They each could definitely feel the impending chill of Autumn, and they knew the next time they came out they’d have to bundle up a bit more.

“You ever been to North America?”

“Once or twice. Not to the United States though,” their companion grimaced “Went to Canada to visit a cousin or two”

“Would you ever go back there? Would you ever visit those places where you could see the Milky Way?”

Their companion looked at them. The first one always had questions. It had been that way since the beginning. And their companion had always answered them, the best they could with what they knew.

“Dunno, maybe,” their companion answered. They sat up and the first one drew closer to their companion.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” the first one started, biting their lip “When we were younger, we had so many plans and so many things we were going to do, and… It just all feels like it’s slipping away, and we’ve—”

They stopped themselves and looked at their companion, whose face was clouded in thought.

“I mean… I haven’t done as much as I feel like I wanted to do…”

Their companion set down their glass and put a hand on the first one’s hand.

“Sometimes that’s just how life is,” they mused, “You make all these grand plans and you work towards them, but sometimes life takes you elsewhere… it happens, and we all have to live with the idea that we’re one or two choices away from living the life we want for ourselves, and one or two choices away from living a life that’s simply…acceptable”

The first one looked at their companion, another question burning in the back of their mind.

“Well… how do you know when it’s too late…” they took a deep breath, and continued “to-to pick the other option?”

Their companion busied themselves with another drink. “How do you mean?”

I mean, how do you know when it’s too late… to pick the life we want? Versus the life that’s simply… acceptable?”

Their companion looked up at the sky. “I mean, I suppose there’s a window of opportunity, at some point it must become too late…”

They were silent again.

“No”

“No?”

“I can’t accept that,” the first one said. “There shouldn’t be a ‘too late’ marker. You just said we’re one or two choices away, that implies that we’re always one or two choices away, isn’t that right?”

Their companion looked at them, confused. “Well, when you put it that way, I reckon you’re—”

Their companion was cut off by the closing of the distance between them. The two met in the middle, their lips meeting. Their companion was shocked but kissed them back. The first one pulled away.

“What was that?” their companion asked, breathless and confused, now aching from the lack of the first one’s kiss.

“The first choice” the first one said “towards a life I always wanted”

Their lips met again, and it was as if galaxies formed in the sky above, ones they could see without ever having to go to North America. The chilly night suddenly became warm, and when they pulled away, the first one’s head laid upon their companion’s chest, and they looked up at the stars.

Their tradition always ended at sunrise, when the two would walk back to town and go their separate ways. In past years they would go back to their families and go to bed, just to get enough sleep to live a life that was acceptable.

This time it was different. The two did not go separate ways. They decided instead to go to a café that was just beginning to open its doors, discuss what happened, and develop their shared moment into something greater. Neither one had familial obligations anymore, so whatever they could, they would dedicate anew life to one another.

This would be the second choice.