You know, the funny thing is that I always imagined the two of us meeting somewhere, oh, I don't know, more picturesque. Some place remarkable, like a side street cafe, or a train station at midnight. I thought I might put my arm around you and talk as if we were old friends. I thought you might not come. But you're here now, and I suppose that's all that matters.

This isn't your last chance to head back or change direction, but you may want to do that now.

I didn't mean for it to happen this way. I thought, "Oh, one day I'll just walk up and say hello. Ask how you're doing. Find out your opinion about the weather." Just break the surface of things, really. And I'd tell you about myself, if you asked me and it seemed that you really wanted to know.

Scenes like this don't happen anywhere but the movies, unfortunately. Or in dreams. And even then, the dialogue could use a bit of work.

There are all kinds of delusions of perfection that people have about the world. I'm afraid that I can't give you any real answers. I can only give you a good cliche here or there, a pun, a bon mot. At the very least, I can give you some drivel that will be confusing. That's because we'll never understand each other, you and I. We'll never know each other because we're afraid to.

But I have to run. Don't get the wrong idea--I'll see you again. But I don't have anything more to say right now, and it is a beautiful day.