“I’m glad you understand.”
“But I also think you’ve been unhappy for a long time.”
The comment stung because I wasn’t sure it was wrong.
“Jake, you don’t know enough about my marriage to make that judgment.”
“Maybe not.”
He paused.
“But I know what it looks like when somebody is lonely in a room full of people.”
I stared at him.
He looked genuinely sorry.
“I’m not trying to cause trouble. I promise.”
“I know.”
“Then let’s just be honest with each other.”
I should have told him that honesty required distance, not more intimate conversations.
Instead, I let him sit beside me.
We talked for nearly an hour.
About his childhood.
About the pressure he felt from his mother.
About my decision to become a yoga instructor instead of pursuing a more conventional career.
About the ways people could love each other and still fail to understand each other.
