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The Conversation
Copyright 2012 Christina M. Guerrero
DEDICATION
Yes, but it’s private.
STORY BEHIND THE STORY
I’ve always wanted to write a story that contains only dialogue.
I'm not sure it really works, but it was fun writing the first draft.
I often listen to music while doing research.
Recently, I discovered “Sleep” by Poets of the Fall
and while listening to it, got the idea for this story.
NOTES ABOUT THE FIRST DRAFT
This is a slightly edited first draft; the original was hard to follow.
(Okay, this one may be, too, but I think it’s clearer than the first).
“ ... if you had not gone through that ... if you had not taken that path ... we might not have met.”
“If I had not suffered.”
“Yes.”
“I think I’d take no suffering, and having my memory erased of all of it, and the singular pleasure of meeting you.”
“Yeah? But what if you get to heaven some day. Or whatever comes after this life. And you see a map of your life. And you see that the only way to us was through all of that.”
“That’s sick. Not the part about meeting you. The other part. All of it. Do you have any idea ....”
“I do. I can hear it and feel it when you talk about it. That first time you told me all of it ... I had trouble sleeping for a week. No, I wouldn’t wish that you had gone through that to get to me. I’m just saying ... perhaps that was the only way TO me.”
“Oh, gosh.”
“What.”
“What if ... what if we find out we actually CHOSE that? Or rather, that I did? Wouldn’t I feel stupid.”
“Kind of goes along with your theory of having been privileged in a former life. Perhaps you were an extremely privileged lady with no sickness, no pain, and being catered to constantly. You probably weren’t arrogant or selfish. Most likely not like that at all. You just wanted a change.”
“Oh, gosh. What if I had many lives or one really long life in a really nice situation? And I wanted to experience this, instead?”
“And you chose the premium package.”
“Now that’s a tiny bit funny. What if I said, ‘Sorry. Just a terrible disease won’t do it. Or just a bit of poverty won’t be right. I want to experience the entire range of human misery, from the most abstract forms of trauma to the most personal’.”
“Abstract trauma. Sick. That made me shiver.”
“Sorry.”
“On the other hand, what if you were a bit too ... hm ... disagreeable. Just enough to understand that you needed to experience and understand humility. Because I can see in you, no matter where you go, or what you do, no matter what your body language ... your essence is not naturally humble.”
“No, not really. But believe me, I understand humility. I might not always get that across, but I’m feeling it.”
“What about me. What did I choose?”
“You’re sweet and you’re nice and you’re good. A good man. I believe that’s part of your essence. So everyone worked with you. During your past lives and in between. But ....”
“But what.”
“You’ve got an old soul. And you get anxious rather easily. So maybe things weren’t so good for you, if there were past lives. Maybe things are really good this time because you suffered last time, or many times.”
“The opposite from you.”
“Yeah. Maybe you suffered badly. And wished for this good life every day and every night. And your fears ....”
“Don’t say them. Please.”
“I won’t. All of those things. The stuff that disturbs you. Are part of a not-so-privileged life.”
“How about the complete opposite of privileged. Just say it. Poor. Or homeless and penniless.”
“Yes. I was just looking for pleasant ways of saying it.”
“I know.”
“What if you had broken through time and rescued me that day. On the bench. What if I saw you, so sweet and your smile ... I wish that had happened.”
“I wish I had. Then I could have rescued you from what was coming. Protected you. Stood between you and everything else. Would you have recognized me?”
“What age would you be?”
“How about if we were both the same age?”
“What were you like at my age at that time?”
“Same as I am now. I’ve had roughly the same outlook since about age five or so.”
“Would I have recognized you? A few seconds would have been crucial. If you had come running across the street just as I was thinking how disgusted I was, and said, ‘Speak up! Don’t do it! You need to come with me, instead!’ that might have helped me recognize you.”
“I wish I had been there. I would have liked to give both of them a piece of my mind.”
“That would have been priceless. You have this way of conveying absolute dismissal and disapproval with the most pleasant of words.”
“Thank you.”
“I wish ....”
“Tell me, my dear.”
“I wish we’d had all that time together.”
“Sometimes I do. But I think with all the waiting, and the paths we’ve taken ... we’re not taking it for granted.”
“Do you think we would have, otherwise?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to think not. But you know both our histories. Perhaps we wouldn’t have been happy together.”
“Maybe not. But I’d like to think we’d have some issues, and then worked them out and become closer and more at ease with each other.”
“Maybe. So ... are you still thinking about all that, my dear?”
“Yeah, somewhat. It’s just there, sometimes, and I work through it. I wish I could erase all of it from my memory.”
“If I could, I’d erase it and replace it with only pleasant things. And think of your next life. Maybe you’ll go back to one of the other lives, and appreciate it.”
“I won’t go anywhere if you’re not with me.”
“Hey. Maybe that’s why we’re here, too. Maybe we knew we’d be here, together, at the same time, and chose any circumstances whatsoever. Just as long as we’d find each other.”
“No matter how tough it would be ....”
“Yeah.”
“And I was offered a choice. Or several choices. But none of them would be easy. And you, too. Maybe you were told there would be the slimmest of chances of us finding each other. And you said you didn’t care--”
“And that if even one of us knew about the other, that would be enough. The one would make the first move--”
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.”
“Don’t cry, my dear.”
“What if ... oh my gosh ....”
“What. What?! Tell me. What.”
“You know how everyone, the whole gang, looks kind of alike? Which I’ve always wondered about. How did you all find each other? But what if ... oh wow ... just wow ....”
“What.”
“What if it was not only humility, and privilege, and fears, but what if you were hidden ... or ... wow--”
“Oh dear lord. What if someone or something was deliberately trying to keep us from each other. But making it even more difficult for one of us to find the other. But what were you going to say?”
“Well, that wouldn’t be surprising. The forces of good and evil have been around since the dawn of time. And I was going to say almost the same thing. What if I had fallen for ... but I wouldn’t have. I have gotten away in the past. At least I’ve been successful at that.”
“No, you wouldn’t have fallen for anyone else. To be honest, I wouldn’t call anything in your romantic history anywhere close to ‘falling’ for anyone.”
“That’s hilarious. And so true.”
“More like coerced. In one case, forced. So were you going to say what if you had fallen for one of the others?”
“Yeah. Something like that. But not quite. More like ... I know what I’m trying to say ... I mean, I know sort of where I’m trying to get to, but I can’t find the words. It has to do with you among your big group. It’s a lot, huh? About fifteen? In your closest social circle?”
“Seventeen, including me.”
“So some of you sort of look alike. So I had to look for you. Not that I, and my friends got to know you all for those reasons. But I had to search for you among your group. What is it ... something about you among the others ....”
“Yeah ... I sort of know what you’re getting at, but ... what ... it’s not quite forming well ....”
“Punishment, perhaps? We were being punished for doing wrong, or for misbehaving, so we were separated in this life and I had all that suffering. And you too; don’t minimize your experiences.”
“Not quite like yours; they’re vastly different. We were being punished?”
“Yeah. So we were separated.”
“Something else that is vastly different. You use words like ‘punished.‘ I use words like ‘disciplined.‘ Let’s assume all of the world’s religions are on the right track, and that there is a loving being, God, what have you, that cares for us. Would he or she wish to cause so much suffering by disciplining with a lack of love and/or the presence of torture and sickness?”
“I don’t know. She?”
“I’m trying to be politically correct toward those who believe God is female.”
“It’s just you and me, right now. Could we call this supreme entity a father figure?”
“Sure. So let’s assume He loves us. All of us. How would a loving father, in general, discipline his children?”
“Well ... hm. I’d have to guess here. Can’t relate.”
“Just work through it.”
“Um. Okay. First of all, he’d assess the situation.”
“Right.”
“And then determine what led to the disagreement, problem, whatever.”
“Right.”
“And consider and then implement a type of discipline, perhaps withdrawal of fun things, or an educational session of some sort, like a book or video, or maybe just a long truthful talk. And then put the discipline into action. With some kind of consequences.”
“Right.”
“And very little physical discipline. Too much of that creates a lot of issues for innocent children.”
“Right.”
“And most important. A loving parent follows through. Will move heaven and earth for his or her children. Pansies and weaklings will rarely see results. A child who sees a parent means business may not reform completely, but will get the idea that a bit of change would be in order.”
“Right. Now with that in mind, let’s just look on the bright side of all this. How would a loving God treat us and follow up if we had misbehaved in a previous life? For the moment, forget about learning from misfortune.”
“Hm ... probably by ... well ... this is tough.”
“How would the devil do it?”
“Lack of love. Suffering.”
“So a loving God would ....”
“Do it with love. Little or no suffering. But you know the book of Job and his story.”
“Yeah, I know. But let’s put those stories aside for a moment. Think more of a loving way of being guided.”
“Hm. I don’t know about God, but maybe the devil WAS behind all this. I can’t think of more perfect examples of intense suffering, and the lack of human compassion and consideration through my experiences. I felt truly forsaken for ... well ... a long time.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting at? You sounded confident.”
“I thought I was. But maybe that’s it. Maybe we didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe the devil got involved and it turned out to be a story like Job’s. Not to be vain or anything. I’m nothing like that poor chap. He was an upright, proper gentleman.”
“Me either. But maybe we’re taking this too far. We met, we got married, we are happy. Maybe none of this is even possible.”
“Yeah, it’s a weird fantasy. But I’m enjoying the conversation. Let’s keep at it. Are we saying that Satan, the devil, forces of evil, what have you, is behind your history and our prolonged separation? Or that no loving God is behind this?”
“Not the same things.”
“No. What do you think?”
“I don’t believe God wants people to suffer on that level, but I could find Bible verses that would support the opposite argument. Also, there are levels of suffering where you wonder where God is, but for me, it was more of a rational, calm thing than feeling desperate or abandoned. I still believed in Him; I just felt that He was elsewhere. Kind of like someone wants to be with you, but they’ve scheduled something else and can’t cancel it. Or they are physically unable to get to you. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you. They just can’t be there.”
“For extended periods of your life? Sounds awful. I’m still thinking about a loving God with loving discipline. I think my point is that someone who loves you, would teach you a lesson without harming you ... and since harm was involved, and so much ... that I find it hard to believe anything good and pure and loving was behind it.”
“But not necessarily the devil.”
“Most likely, but not necessarily.”
“What else would there be? A third creepy-looking entity that’s purple and flies around and calls itself Troublemaker Number Two?”
“Maybe. Or perhaps just time. Or the environment. Or random events.”
“No. We’re looking at this from a philosophical and religious point of view.”
“With some fantasy thrown in.”
“Definitely.”
“I’m leaning more toward evil being behind this, rather than good. But there’s something else. Something about my mates and family and all of us ... something that you said you’re reaching for ... what is it?”
“Why would there be an evil reason for you to be hard to find, among a group of guys who look like you? If the devil knows my essence, why would that be fun for him? I’d just keep looking. That wouldn’t really be a punishment. Correction, discipline. I’d consider it a fun challenge.”
“No, that’s not it. Why would a loving God permit the search to be so challenging? What kind of lesson would be learned from it?”
“Um ... to appreciate the finer details between all of you guys?”
“Not just that.”
“To understand true love?”
“Something like that ... but that’s not it. Something else.”
“You know what it was like. I’d think for so long: ‘That’s not what I’m looking for. Or that either. Or that either.’ So many times. For years. And then, after we had gotten to know each other ... I knew. And found out what had been missing.”
“I knew from the moment we met.”
“How?”
“Just ... like you said once. I think we all have a template. And you matched the template for my ideal woman. But of course, that’s not enough. I knew things would be possible. Only time would tell.”
“But finding love isn’t what we’re getting at.”
“No. We are trying to figure out if love is behind the long, terrible search for each other.”
“But ... if God or love isn’t behind it ... and Satan or evil isn’t behind it ... who would be?”
“Hm.”
“What would be ....”
“We are so stupid. Sorry, my dear. I am.”
“No, it’s okay. I can be stupid sometimes.”
“We are behind it. The two of us.”
“Really. We designed this? Were we playing games with each other? Hide and seek through several lifetimes?”
“No. Not that.”
“Then what?”
“Hm ... keep talking.”
“Like what?”
“This is it. We’re behind it. But why ....”
“Why would we hide from each other?”
“Maybe one of us was hiding from the other, waiting to be found.”
“Maybe ... damn it ... it’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue.”
“Let’s see ... hiding from each other ....”
“You were hiding from me because you knew it would take me that long to be ready.”
“That’s it, my dear. That’s precisely it.”
“We had an argument. Or something like that. I was quite privileged and maybe a bit arrogant, and felt too blessed, and wanted to experience hardship because I knew it would make me a better person. You were in a terrible situation and asked for things to be as pleasant as possible, and since circumstances will never change your essence, you have never been too different in each lifetime. We loved each other. Because of that love, we understood and supported each others’ goals for this life, with an agreement that we meet up. We saw a blueprint of our paths this time round. Based on our previous experiences, and what might happen this time, you determined I would not be ready for love for a long time. So you made arrangements to make it difficult to find you, until I would be ready to meet you again.”
“That’s it. But still, why all the suffering? I might have lost you.”
“Because I chose it. I think things were not only really easy for me in this other life, but there were also a lot of creepazoids there, too. People having it way too easy, and taking advantage. Maybe that lifestyle turned me off, and I chose a more challenging life in order to avoid certain aspects of affluence.”
“Didn’t quite work. They were here, too.”
“I know. Sorry. I didn’t explain that well. That’s part of the arrangement. You meet up with a similar crowd no matter what you choose.”
“So it was familiar. So that’s why ....”
“What.”
“You’ve always acted like it was something normal. Like you’d been through it before.”
“That would explain a lot. And you. With this life. You and your crowd have always been kind to one another. Through all types of circumstances. So you’re here, together, and our worlds are still slightly foreign to each other.”
“Oh dear lord. Would we then go through this again?”
“I hope not. I don’t want to.”
“Maybe we don’t have a choice. When it comes to the crowds. But perhaps being privileged makes it a bit easier?”
“Perhaps. There are pros and cons to that world, for sure.”
“Tell me about it. My life is complicated. No matter how many nice people I know. And yours isn’t as simple as you’d like.”
“No, but I’ve got it mostly under control.”
“Pretty soon you’ll have to hire someone, just like the rest of us.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“I’ll help you, if you’d like.”
“I would. Thank you.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Yes. I just wish ... I wish I had met you first. All those terrible things. I wish I could erase them. I wish I could go back to that bench and get up and walk away. I was busy. I had things to do. I needed sleep. Sleep has been a joke in this life. I was so happy. I wish I could have been pure for you.”
“You know none of that matters to me. Now we have better answers and explanations for all of that. No matter how silly they seem.”
“Thank you for waiting.”
“Thank you for searching. Did you think it was fun and challenging?”
“Well ....”
“A little?”
“No. Okay. Just the teeniest tiniest bit. There’s usually a period of time when two people are on the same page. I always liked that part. But too soon, with everyone, it ended. Different pages. You can’t build anything on a lack of common ground. Nothing at all. And after a while I’d had enough. And sometimes I’d think, ‘Where is he? I miss him. He’s not any of these people. And I know who he is. I just need to wait.’ And that’s when things got better.”
“Remember when we first met?”
“Yeah ....”
“What are you laughing at?”
“You were so nice about my notebook and pen while I took notes. Seven of you looked like you all belonged together. Like some kind of rock band.”
“That was cute. And then waiting ....”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to lose any of the friendships. Including ours. That was hard.”
“And the night we agreed to always be brutally honest.”
“That was hysterical.”
“My words: ‘I’m terrible at relationships.’ Yours: ‘I am, too. I get bored easily, and lose interest. Probably be single for eternity.’ Five minutes later, our first kiss. And so much joy after that.”
“Joy. I’m still getting used to that.”
“Me too.”
“And you? Will you be all right? And sleep well?”
“Yes.”
“No thoughts about ... all that?”
“No. I only had that one week.”
“Well. I must get back to work. When will you be home?”
“Home. Mmm. I like the sound of that. About an hour. Take care, my dear. And don’t think about that stuff. Think about me.”
“I will. I always have. See you in a bit.”
~ TO BE CONTINUED ~
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