Trying To Find the Right Thing To Say

The good times were so far in the past.We had a good run. While I knew that it was all over, I couldn't help but think back over the years. I could tell she were doing the same as she sat across from me at the table. It used to be "our" table and now it was just hers. We had discussed, briefly, either chopping the table in half so that at least each of us could benefit from having some table. Or possibly we could each have the full table for a few days and then switch or come up with some sort of visitation schedule. I mean this is a table we are talking about, not like a stupid old desk or a counter.

We decided to avoid the traps of other ending relationships. Honesty was required here. Not brutal honesty - no need to make each cry any more then we already have. Instead we decided to be honest in order to help each other come to grips with the end. We had a relationship that was the envy of others. Actually we went out of our way to make others envious. It was a thing we did and even that made others envious of us. Such was the power of our envy-invoking ability.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries. She liked my shirt. I liked her choice to comb her hair without irony for a change (believe me, most of the time her hair is so ironic that it borders on cruel). I commented on the weather. And she chose to launch into a diatribe on the reduction of the number of pickles you get in a standard jar of pickles. I laughed and she looked off in the distance. I swear that I saw a tear and I almost fell for her again in all of her majestic, ironic, pickle-loving glory. But that is the past and I am trying hard to reduce the amount of time I live in the past.

"How are you Ingrid?"

"I'm fine Gregor. I hope you are well"

"Can I interest you in a crumpet, or failing that a muffin?"

"I would like that."

A good start - at least 200% warmer than either of us would have predicted, especially after the episode last week where we each tried to break the other's nose.

After a few other comments on animals and pants and the potential windfall for those in the pant-making business to hit this lucrative and untapped market. We also saw a great chance for the animals to play a large role in helping local pant-makers corner the market so the overseas companies couldn't come in and take over. This discussion went on for at least 2 hours, followed by phone calls to our friends in manufacturing, distributing and advertising.

"Where did we go wrong Ingrid? We were so much in love. I thought it was a timeless love."

"Oh Gregor, I just don't know. I mean an outsider might guess it all started to go downhill when I gave you that paper cut. That is the last time I ever buy any comically massive pieces of paper and decide to run around the yard waving them in the wind while my partner is sleeping in his hammock."

"Ingrid, don't beat yourself up. Being cut by that paper is a distant memory. The cuts are still healing, two year later, but the cutting is so far in the past."

"Maybe we should have held hands more"

"Are you still bitter that we didn't break the world record for hand holding? You were always so competitive."

"True. I did hold your hand at least partially out of love, but mostly to win the accolades I deserved, the ones that I missed out on in my youth. As you know my parents didn't believe in any contact of any kind. Once I touched my brother's big toe and was sent to my room for three days where I was supposed to consider the ramifications of my thoughtless prank."

"I will miss this Ingrid. Our ability to just talk and say what's on our mind."

"Just come out and say it! Do you have something you wish to get off your chest Gregor. I can tell by the wrinkle on the upper portion above your left eye that you wish to tell me something. Please don't hold back."

"Well, I may as well get right to it. Now, Ingrid, don't get me wrong I liked playing board games...as much as the next guy and I could handle all of the losses but all of the taunting and humiliation and posturing. Was it really necessary? Did it make you feel like a big girl? Did you enjoy seeing me hovering in the corner of the games room crying and grasping for your hand in support?"

"Well, I just couldn't stand all of the times you referred to yourself as the "king of the castle" or the "man of the house" or the "boy in the bubble" or even more confusing "the whale in the forest". It just isn't an accurate thing to say in any way."

"Ingrid, let's not let this turn in to name calling - unless you want us to use our pet names for each other."

"I refuse to call you Spot. I've said that a million times. Those days are behind us."

"Fine, but when you used to call me "The Big Apple" and then finish your own joke by saying but if by "big" I meant "translucent" and by "apple" I meant "jellyfish" which was always followed by lots of contagious snickering. That really hurt. It really hurt on multiple levels - first, what did you think would happen after an hour of uninterrupted snickering; second, you knew of my disdain for translucence of any kind and third, I felt like it was a thinly veiled attempt to make fun of my uncle Hamish, the apple farmer. It was all just so indirect and mean.And to top it all off what about the "the"? Couldn't that really mean something too?"

"Well la-di-da smart guy. If you're so smart then how come you were always borrowing my ruler. Always with the straight lines. Day after day, book after book, straight lines everywhere! Couldn't you at least branch out and throw in some dashes or some dots let alone something Picasso-esque like a curve. I mean we couldn't even eat macaroni and you wouldn't want to see my sister Ursula because of the 'excessive' number of Us in her name."

"Even though I am sad Ingrid and will miss even the arguing, I am also happy that we are sharing at this point. I will miss your way."

"And I will miss you too Gregor, even though you had a way of making me feel like I had just learned to count yesterday."

"If I had a dollar every time I heard that come out of your mouth I'd have somewhere between $1000 and $3000 before, of course, you took off your 15% commission. 15-per-freakin'-cent Ingrid?!?!  I told you repeatedly that I didn't need a sports agent, I'm a garbage collector. All of those hours and hours negotiating exit clauses and trade exemptions. What happened to you? You used to be so supportive of my garbage collection. I know the wrappers and plastics forks took up much of our bedroom, but still, it was my passion." 

"Well you know that I love opal earrings in the shape of mythical creatures, you knew that about me from the beginning! I'm not going to be pressured into apologizing for that. I was raised to respect the hard-working, risk-taking opal miners of Ethiopia and no amount of raw egg slinging or covering my gnomes with plastic wrap on your part was going to change that. My parents also made us pray to a large variety of mythical creatures every night before watching Entertainment Tonight. Plus I have ears. Or did you forget that?"

"I used to prize your ability to think outside the box. At least when it only happened once and a while. But, then you started always thinking outside the box. If I offended you when I built you that hand-crafted box made of mahogany from Russia, I apologize."

"Well, now that you mention it you were always trying to "kick it up a notch". That made sense when you were cooking dinner, and significantly less sense when reading Casper comic books, backing the car up, and shaving your back though I still have the small rug you made me for our 3rd anniversary."

"You have always been such a perfectionist. To be honest I spent an inordinate amount of time either trying to find mistakes in what you did or said, or trying to cause you to make mistakes, or even trying to lull you into a state of confusion through a use of a variety of hypnotic tools and tricks to make you feel like you have erred. When all of that failed we went on vacation to Mexico."

"Oh Gregor, I remember that trip so fondly. We spent the days on the beach and the evenings dressing up and playing funny games. Once you dressed up as a tree and I was crazy, ax-wielding psycho wanting to chop something, just anything. Another night we dressed up as matching chairs around an antique table. At least I thought we were matching- you had to be a little bit more ornate, as usual. And how could I forget the final evening when you dressed up as a really convincing extra large piece of toast and I dressed up as a small butter knife. We were so well disguised that our dinner guests spent 45 minutes using me to butter you and you still have the teeth marks on your ankle."

" Ingrid, you were always telling me that I was sweet but firm, a little tart yet crisp. Thanks, and I mean that, but what was I to you- an apple? 

"I appreciated how you cared for me, Gregor, especially when I was sick, but I always felt like you were treating me like an injured bird. Even when I demanded that you treat me like a healthy bird or at least an injured donkey. Was that too much to ask?

"Ingrid...I just knew that you placed donkeys up on a pedestal. I didn't want to offend you or your people, the Society for the Promotion of Donkeys."

"Gregor, I remember that you used to make breakfast for us in the early days, then over time it became just lunch and then even that dissolved to just an occasional after dinner mint. All of this was an effort to keep us financially responsible, which I appreciated, but why couldn't you just have stopped collecting rare scraps of sheet metal? Or at least have made something practical with them, especially after I bought you the designer blow torch? That blow torch became the figurative albatross on our relationship much more so than the actual albatross hanging in the wall in our living room. That albatross was great. We loved that albatross. We still do and I think we always will."

"I remember when we used to bundle ourselves up and run in the snow, the pelting snow, often mixed with sharp, piercing shards of ice-  cutting our skin, inflicting the cold, harsh pain we so needed at the time. We would come in from outside and dress our respective wounds, laughing and roaring like the lion and lioness that we aspired to be. In the evening we would cuddle on the couch and watch TV trying to find the right way to sit so as to feel the least amount of searing pain. Oh how I miss those days. Those cold, ice-shard piercing, watching TV days. It's true you don't know you'll miss it till its gone."

"You spent so much time on your computer near the end. You were always "surfing the net". At first I tried to share this hobby with you, but it just got too strange. Especially after you started eating all of those bananas and insisting on being called "Jedi". I thought I could save you by introducing you to surfing or taking that netting course at the local community college, but you were too far gone at that point. I told my mom that the stench of the bananas couldn't be washed out not with a 100 litres of bleach. I know because I tried."

"Ingrid, I also know that you started developing some odd habits of your own. "Air guitar" was cute, and that was followed by "air piano" and soon after by "air saxophone". All still fine in my books, you know I have the patience of a saint, one of the more patient saints too. But then you went on to "air rock band" and "air symphony orchestra" and even "air crowded movie theatre during 'the scary part'". This wiped you out - you spent so many evenings collapsed on the sofa while I sat there watching you with a long feather just aching to tickle your nose."

"Oh Gregor. Poor, simple Gregor. You could spend whole Saturdays slicing potatoes. I kept suggesting you branch out on to other tubers like yams and sweet potatoes or even throwing caution to the wind and try dicing something for a change."

"Well, you are one to talk. You always insisted on eating your food in chronological order from the date it was first introduced to our area of the world. This seemingly quaint and innocent idea made even a small snack last hours and hours due to the multiple trips to the library and all of the research. I mean sure I have now gained an inordinate amount of knowledge about the history of food, which I thank you for, but dinners with you took on a very academic tone. You sucked all the joy out of a simple meal."

We paused and looked at each other. We each took a breath and looked away. The last two hours seemed so exhausting and yet we knew that we needed each other. I looked down and it took every ounce of my strength to muster the courage to say

"Should we give this one more chance Ingrid? I sense that there is so much more to say and do and that it would be a shame to throw this away. Oh how I still love you my love. My cherry blossom, my sapling, my silvery slug trail! I can't imagine I ever contemplated walking away from this. We have a love that will last our lifetimes and could withstand the strongest wind and also a light breeze. Oh, I was stupid and almost lost you."

I broke into tears and lifted my head to look into her eyes. Her seat was empty. I stood and scanned the room. Nothing. Then I saw her, running across the street, or performing the best pantomime of a woman running across the street I've ever seen. I was crying, because I knew she was gone, but also because I am a sucker for great pantomime.