Interviewer: (Smiles to himself.)
Interviewer: I get in now.
Me: (A mischievous grin lifts my cheeks, and I glance away.)
Interviewer: Oh…don’t play the shy roll now.
Me: But I’m so good at it. (My response is purposefully coy.)
Interviewer: So, am I the clown?
Me: (A full grin now dons my face.) I have no idea what you mean.
Interviewer: (Laughs a little then squints his eyes. He’s trying to search my thoughts. Finding nothing to grab onto, he pushes his impromptu interview forward.) Alright, you win…for now.
Me: I graciously accept your surrender, sir.
Interviewer: Back to the question I’ve been dying to ask…Why the change of tone? Why so dark now?
Me: That’s exactly the key.
Interviewer: How so? Which part?
Me: Questions. (My eyes sweep across the bustling café scene.) Some people see the world in pictures, some in prose, other in rhythms, or even dollars or Euros. But, all I see are questions. And now, I want answers.
Interviewer: Does this mean no more fairy tale endings?
Me: (Smirks.) That’s not what I said. I want to find out what really makes the human heart beat. Why do sad love songs stir up old, long-forgotten emotions? Why don’t we really love the person we’re with until they tell us that this is the last good-bye? Why is it that when I hurt so badly, immediately afterward, I feel so much more alive than ever before?
Interviewer: (Silence. I can read his thoughts, and his eyes reflect him reliving these exact defining moments I have just described.)
Me: I want to deconstruct romance. Break it into fragments that I can understand…feel…accept as real, not just whimsical, wishful fantasy. When I pull it all back together, I want the picture finally to make sense.
Interviewer: (More silence.)
Me: (Sips more of the liquid salve from the cup I am clutching. This isn’t the first time my random thoughts and theories have left someone bewildered and speechless.)