And then you come to terms with it. That it has all been one, big, elaborate lie. The beginning was a lie, as was the ending.
Beautiful, isn’t it? It started with a lie and ended with a lie. Everything in between was a whirlwind. Everything in between was the truth. Everything in between was every moment that he wanted to live and relive. Everything in between will now be forgotten. Because of this moment. Because of this last lie.
They move closer to each other. Shifting perspectives. Making compromises. Feeling feelings.
As he looks on, he recalls those first moments. How they came about. And as he recalls it bit by bit, the story begins to blur, to edit itself into its own story. Into beginnings and endings. Everything in between is forgotten. Everything in between is frozen in another time. A parallel universe.
He remembers the contradiction of that final delicate harsh moment. How it defined them. Everything that meant anything all rolled into one.
His footsteps squelched of the rain that stopped five minutes ago. There was a feeling of mist in the air, but there was no mist. Just pregnant moments. The coffee had a drying effect as it swirled in his mouth. Something was about to happen.
Thousands of miles away a sad feeling crept in. It was not as easy as it had seemed. One lie had not led to another. It led to the truth. The only way to end it was another lie. Strange. That is not what they warn you about lying. But then, life is ironical.
You are back where you started. But not exactly.