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  • "I'm thinking about taking a day off..."
    She looks at me, doubting. "That usually means you'll be gone for a week," she says. Yeah, well.

    *

    "I think I want to take a time-out..."
    He looks at me, teary-eyed. "That tends to mean you want to break up," he says. Yeah, well.
  • "If the fog blurs your view, you don't just sit around waiting for it to lift, right? You get up, pack your bags and leave. Right?"
    "That's what you do," he replies.
    "And what do others do?"
    "They wait it out," he says, "most people are more patient than you."
    "Then again, I'm not like most people, am I?"
    "No," he says, "no, you're not."

    *

    "I don't want to lose you," he says.
    "You never had me in the first place."
  • "I think I'd like to go somewhere..."
    "Why don't you try to find your happy place right here, instead?"
    "My 'happy place'?"
    "Yes."
    "I have to think about that."
    "You do that."

    *

    "You're implying that it's in me, that I have to open up for it, you're talking about acceptance, am I right?"
    "Your words, not mine."
    "But your words are very sparse, I have to elaborate them myself."
    "If you want."

    *

    "So, what I think you're saying is that leaving won't make it any better, because the truth is that I'm really unhappy. Like, deeply unhappy. Is that what you're saying?"
    "Why don't you just keep interpreting my silence, you're so good at it."
    "I'm good at it, huh. I guess that means I'm on the right track, then. So now you're comparing me to my mother, is that it?"
    "Where did that come from?"
    "Yes, where did that come from, I wonder? You didn't even know her! Have you been talking to my father about me?"
    "Why would I do that?"
    "Why do you answer all my questions with a question?"
    "I haven't talked to your father. About you, or anything else."

    *

    "I promise, I haven't."
  • "Tell me what you're thinking about."
    "I'm thinking about leaving."
    "And so we're back to start."
    "I guess so."
    "Where would you go?"
    "I don't know... Svalbard?"
    "North, huh?"
    "Or the Faroe Islands."
    "So, west?"
    "Or the Hebrides."
    "I'm sensing a certain pull towards islands."
    "How perceptive of you."
    "And ocean, perhaps?"
    "Necessarily."
  • "So, these places that you mention... They're all located far out at sea."
    "M-hmm."
    "And they're all, to my knowledge, sort of... barren. Right?"
    "Where are you going with this?"
    "You tell me."
    "Are you comparing me to an island?"
    "I'm not following...?"
    "A barren island!"
    "Is that how you see yourself, as a barren island?"
    "No!"
    "But given a choice of all possible destinations in this world, these are the sort of places you would go to, if you could?"
    "Yes."
    "And you're sure about that?"
    "Yes. I can add to the list, if you want. It's all islands and coastlines and ocean. North, north-west."
    "Can you tell me why that is? What is it about these places that attracts you?"

    *

    "Is it the nature?"
    "Partly."
    "What else?"
    "The islands are sparsely populated. Very few people."
    "Do you not like people?"
    "I like some people."
    "But you're not a... a 'people person'?
    "I guess not."
    "How about friends, do you have friends?"
    "Of course! I have several friends. Good friends, close friends. It's not that I don't like people, I just want..."
    "Space?"
    "Maybe. Or just the silence, the calm, the sound of the ocean..."
    "It can get quite rough out there, in the Atlantic, I mean."
  • "You're smiling?"
    "Just thinking..."
    "About what?"
    "I was going to say something about the ocean... Compare it to a lover, or something like that; something poetic, something lame, I'm sure. A cliché, really. And then you said it could get rough, and I thought..."
    "You thought...?"
    "I thought; 'yeah!' And, I mean, maybe that's it. Maybe what I seek is not the quiet, not the solitude, not the distance. Maybe I seek toward the edge, you know?"
  • "The edge, you say."
    "Yes. The edge of the world; the ultimate destination, where the action is."
    "What kind of action are you seeking?"
    "Well... I've got plenty of silence in my life, you know, and more than enough solitude, and yet I keep feeling that I need more. That has always confused me. Like; you already have a void in there, it's vast, immense, how could you possibly yearn for more? You know?"
    "So, what does that mean, do you think?"
    "I'm beginning to realize it means that I long for some action. For something to happen. For something to shake me."
    "Can you define that 'something'?"
    "I don't know... I don't think I've encountered it yet."
    "'It', you say. As in 'a person'?"
    "I don't know. I don't know if such a person even exists."
  • "Thank you, this has really helped a lot."
    "Where are you going?"
    "I think you know where I'm going."
    "Um... I don't think we're done talking just yet."
    "Well, I'm done. I have nothing more to say.
    "I see... In that case, I suggest that you go home and get some sleep, and come back tomorrow so we can continue."
    "Continue what?"
    "This conversation."
    "There's nothing more to add, I'm going. I'm going. No return ticket."
    "Wait..."
    "What?"
    "Just... Just call me when you get home, okay? Call me anytime. Please."
    "You know I won't."
    "Please do."
    "No, I'm off! To the edge."

    *

    "Wait!"
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