Be careful following this next link. What I have quoted isn't the part that really moved me. That other part killed me, not in a laughing way. This part is good too though, and apter here. This is not a confessional blog.
When I strip away my dreams, what I imagine to be my potential, all the things I haven’t said, what I imagine I feel for other people in the absence of my expressing it, all the rules I’ve made for myself that I don’t follow—I see that I’ve done as little as anyone else in this world to deserve the grand moniker I. In fact, apart from being the only person living in this room, I’m not sure what distinguishes me.
This is also good, but it's really a different league. I found it moving at the time. Now I'm not sure.
During the lunch, you order salad and don’t eat it. You struggle to talk about anything with the person who once was your everything. It won’t be easy. Watching the people pass by with their friends and lovers in front of the restaurant having their moment together, it would become clear that that kind of moment no longer belongs to you and this person. Looking at their face would be too unsettling so you’d spend an inordinate amount of time stirring the sugar into your drink and watching it fade. Once that’s finished, you’d have to fixate on someone else in the restaurant. Maybe a little boy who’s screaming for food or an attractive young professional. Everything they would say to you would sound like static except for one thing: “Let’s get the check.” When you leave, you’d pick up your exasperated stomach from the floor and try to push it back in. It might not fit right for the next hour or so.
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