I’ve been back from lunch for 30 minutes now and the jury is still out.
The question isn’t whether or not I should have gone to see Paul, but what I’m supposed to be feeling right now.
It was entirely surreal to see him after all this time. All the details that had faded over seven years were suddenly clear again. The freckles on his arms. His smell. His guarded smile.
He has chosen a life that I could not live. The façade of that life, for an hour today, was gone. His unease was palpable. And yet, he was relieved.
As for my own feelings?
A mixture of sadness and joy. The perfect combination of emotions that leave me feeling quite bi-polar.
I went into this lunch knowing full well that I would have a strong reaction. How foolish for someone that talks about life being grey, to have hoped for such a complicated situation to be black and white.
I think one hour every seven years will probably suffice. Otherwise, painful decisions would have to be made. It’s best leaving this one alone.