The worst thing about an honest question is meeting it with an honest answer.
Often enough, because the solitary moment (s) that follow will be painful.
I made HERO cry last night.
I suppose I should follow the logic that I can’t make anyone feel or do anything, but in my response to his question, I gave HERO a “reason” to cry.
Intoxicated and somewhat brash, he asked me if I thought I eventually would fall in love with him, or even now when I reflect on it – maybe – it was rhetorical and the question was stated more like “You’re not going to fall in love with me – are you ?”
It’s seems embarrassing that I can’t remember the sequence those nine or ten little words were stated in.
With my head cocked to the side and my eyes drifting to the street – I told him I knew I wasn’t going to fall in love with him. That somewhere last week, my mind met that street and crossed it, and now I was on the other side looking back.
He didn’t hold back.
He let it all out.
I held him in my arms as his shoulders heaved, his body sighed and he sobbed.