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The words were a kick to the gut. I felt breathless at the intensity. Because, yes, yes, of course I’d had concerns and fears. Who didn’t? Each time you were enjoying getting to know someone, and they flipped the script on you. When you let someone in, only to find out they were just there for a good time, not a long time. Every single time the person you thought was also three other women’s person. And, of course, every time you thought you found forever, only to have it snatched away. Forcing you to begin again… again.

But I tried to remind myself that that was exactly what they were: fears. Just manifestations of your insecurities.

I didn’t care how naive it might seem; I wanted to keep believing in fairy tales. I chose to think that some people were meant for each other. I wanted to put my faith to rest in something, even if my history hadn’t given me any reason to.

I sucked in a deep breath, knowing I’d been silent for a beat too long.

“And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Happy.” I let that rest for just a second, feeling the weight across the airwaves. “You lecture me about learning to be happy alone. You’re alone. Likely for, what, generations. Are you happy?”

“I am content.”

“That’s not happy.”

“Happiness is fleeting. It’s not tenable to hold onto for, as you say, generations.”

“Maybe it would be if you had love in your life.”

“And here we are again. How many times have you been in love, Madison?”

“A few.”

I think.

I mean, sort of.

It hadn’t been the love I read about, like I wrote about. It wasn’t can’t-eat-sleep-breathe-without-him love. But it was steady and comforting. Until it wasn’t.

“A few.” Condescension dripped from each syllable. “Let me guess, each time you’re sure that this is the one.”

“It would be sad to go into it assuming it would end. What would be the point?”

“What would be the point, indeed?”

“By your logic, should you not apply for a job because you might not get it? Don’t post your art because people might not like it? Everything worth doing comes with a risk. The risk is not reason enough not to do it. Because what if you do get it? What if people do like it? What if that person is the one?”

“Perhaps, Madison, you have not been in love. You have simply found new people to disappoint you.”

Ouch.

“Or,” I said, my voice going sharp, “perhaps you have confused trying with failing.”

“I’ve tried many things. Some of them I’d even recommend. Pinning your hopes on someone coming and saving you from a life of boredom is not one of them.”

“That’s a very dramatic interpretation of affection and companionship.”

“Perhaps I’ve been alive long enough to know that companionship is often less poetic in practice than in theory.”

“You know what I think, Silas?”

“You have not been shy to share thus far.”

“I think you’re lonely. I think you have been so lonely for so long that you’ve begun to call it something else: philosophy, wisdom, experience.” I paused. “But it’s just loneliness, Silas. It’s just that.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jack’s voice came over the radio, “but we have to go to commercial.”