'What do you think about catching a plane, then?'
'I think that catching a plane must be one of the saddest things you can do. As a voluntary and expensive decision, it feels so final, so irreversible. You say "goodbye." It feels like the systematic bureaucratization of loneliness and loss. First you make the decision, then you buy the ticket. Then you begin to gather your things, to pack, which is a process of pairing down, closing in on oneself, isolation. It is a process of elimination, and you begin you departure there, even before your trip to the airport, which is also so hard and full of trepidation. But I think that perhaps the hardest part is when you get off of that train or bus, step out of that car that you shared with the one you love, the one you are saying goodbye to. You gather your things and embrace, you wipe your face, you remember what you forgot on the table back home, or you look for a handkerchief to blow your nose. And then you just walk away. Everything after that is denouement.'
'But it's not always so sad. What about when it is joyful? What about when you came to see me? Weren't you happy then?'
'...I was scared...'
'But you shouldn't have been. That was wrong.'
'I know that now.'