Interpersonal Relations

“It’s simple. You only need to fall in love once and have your heart broken.”

“Really.”

“Really. You need to be able to understand the depth of that kind of emotion. Good actors can’t rely only on superficial emotions.”

I look at him meaningfully. “What makes you think I’ve never been in love?”

“But you’ve never been in a relationship.”

“No, I guess I haven’t.”

“So go get yourself into a relationship, then get out of it!” He says like a strangulated lawyer. “You need to break up.”

The chef laughs in the kitchen behind us and the waiters put the candles on in a dance. We fall silent to the riot of orchids between us. So that’s why restaurants have centerpieces for their tables, I thought.

“I’ve been in love.” I say not too quietly. In that small moment I see his brain flicker to a vague impression of my Jack, then it snaps back to an intimate portrait of the girl whose name I never found out. But I am not thinking of Jack.

“Yes, you need to break up,” he says. He says, but I am looking at his newly-muscled arms.

“I’m sure I could understand the kind of feeling you’re talking about. Fiction is as much the basis of truth as truth is for fiction.”

We hold each other’s gaze in a battle between doubt and persuasion. His cheeks fold, turning his lips upwards, “I’d like to direct you some day.”

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll find a good script, and we can rent out a theatre.”

I throw him a laugh. “I know the guy who owns our favourite place. Maybe we’ll get a discount.”

He laughs. And we revert to talk about other people and the rest of the world.