It has become a predictable ritual, like mostly every encounter with this old man. We chat about the mundane things, and then something reminds him that I am leaving, or there is a lull in the conversation. And then, BAM, he hits me with it:
'Rebekah, are you sure you want to leave??' he says in a little puppy-dog, pitiful sort of way. I tell him that, Yes Jack, I am sure, I just gotta get out of here.
Then finally, the other day, he brings up his old worn-out line, to which I reply 'Jack, are you going to ask me that every time I see you?' To which he responds, 'Well, no......but are you sure you want to leave?? I'm just really going to miss you. You're my only pal, and I'm not going to have a close friend with you gone!'
I give him assurance that my replacement will be just as good, if not better than I am, but he is not convinced. I guess it is easy for any of us to become accustomed to our routine, and any seismic disturbance can create fear and worry. I tell him I am not moving to the moon, and will only be a phone call away. He has also added a few more numbers to his act. It seems that he is convinced that if he touches me as much as possible, that he will somehow be able to grasp me, hold me down, and keep me here. I am fairly certain this will not work, but nevertheless, he seems to be grabbing my hand, kissing it, hugging and generally initiating a lot more contact than ever before. I guess it is sweet and endearing, but the 'not-very-female' in me is just kinda doesn't know how to respond. I grapple for an awkward reciprocation, and mentally perform a count-down of how long an interaction such as this should last, then pull away when I get to 'blastoff'. Maybe I am a cold hearted cynic. Maybe my near complete inability to cry has something to do with this. Maybe all this will be cured with my new adventure! Maybe I will return a changed person! Maybe Jack forget all about me and move on. Ok, maybe I shouldn't get too ahead of myself....
No comments:
Post a Comment