A table for two

I sat here with you, two pretend adults in from the suburbs, we thought we were doing something special, something no one else was doing, that those movies made us special, that parking the car in the inner suburbs, somewhere free, and walking along Bridge road made us unique, cool, it was basically Before Sunset without the European locale

But I sat here with her as well, the one that was actually what we should have been, except this was real, this was better, this was true, and maybe not then, not when we were sitting these chairs, but later, that was when it was grown up, when it was dangerous and passionate and complicated and confusing, that was what it was all meant to be, not the fumbling, and the wishing and the pretending.

But I also sat here with her, the one that was pretending, actually that's not fair - she wasn't pretending, I was, I couldn't commit, not to her and not to this life, I was still just a boy from the suburbs pretending that I belonged her, still second guessing, still unsure, still looking for something more, something better.

And I sit here now, with her, the right one, the perfect one, the one that has allowed me to be everything I wanted to be, the one that allowed me to stop guessing to stop pretending, as we embraced everything that those younger version where aspiring to.

Here in this space, in this void, four people across that table from me.