“Start with what you don’t believe in,” she said, “We can start with that.”
I thought about it for a minute, and then a minute more.
“Well….?” she said.
“I’ve found,” I said “that what you don’t believe angers people more that what you do believe.”
“Obvious, but yes. I agree.”
That irritated me a bit. The filter came off.
“I believe that two people meet each other and get together. Everything else is idealized fictional crap that people take from fantasy and force into human interaction. Ultimately it’s that fucked up view….that pollyannic notion that everything should be like a book, or a movie or a TV show that tears things apart. I don’t believe in true love. I don’t believe in soulmates. I don’t believe in ‘the one’. When it comes to relationships….I don’t believe in fiction.”
“I see….” She said. “And where does that leave me?”
“It leaves, you and I….trying to pull through things and stay with each other. I never said I didn’t believe in love. I would think….that’s the real definition.”
She wasn’t looking at me. I knew she was thinking; mulling it over. “That’s an thin line you’re riding.”
“There is a thin, fine line between alot of things.” I said.
“So do you believe in me?” She asked. I couldn’t read her expression. Her tone was even.
I thought about it for a minute, and then a minute more.
“I want to….” I said.




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