Birthday Thoughts

Note: I wrote this a little over three years ago and never did anything with it. In fact, I don't think I ever showed it to anyone, but I really like it. It is a very short story. Or maybe it is the beginning of a much larger story that will come one day. Either way, it is a small glimpse of a world (or time) that is outwardly very different from ours, though inwardly remains the same. Hope you enjoy it.

The worst part about breaking up is when you have to say hello to the next person you see. That is what he learned in the 11,200 years he had been alive. It was a birthday realization. You could always say good-bye, but the next conversation….the one with the next person…that was the one that decided how everything really went. You may have held yourself together completely, admirably composed, saying all that needed to be said…but then, as soon as your dialogue with the next person began, all of the feelings could come rushing out. They may be contained in only the smallest, the slightest gesture, or sigh, or hesitation. Or they may be signaled by a complete breakdown, as you take your leave of this intruder upon your thoughts to sulk in some dank corner of your mind. It is never predictable how you will react to the end of a relationship, but it is always summed up in your reaction to the next person.

That was what he learned on his 11,200th birthday. This year was the end of his most recent relationship…a 247-year partnership with a wonderful young woman (she was only 2,596 when they started seeing each other and it was a bit of a scandal at first) that now was ended in a flood of tears, grief, remorse and relief. She pleaded that she could never love another. He swore that she would get over him. She screamed that he was callous. He roared that he was merely old. She sobbed that he was her life. He maintained that her life was her own. She flung herself at him in the hope of winning him back. He accepted her with the hope of being rid of her. It was a sad affair and he believed himself to be above all of this, having been through similar scenes a number of times before.

However, when he returned to his flat and tried to engage his roommate in casual conversation he found himself utterly unable to carry on. He was paralyzed by some inexplicable emotion…one that cut to the very quick of his soul. 247 years was a mere pittance in comparison with the great span that he had already seen. When held up against the many years he planned on living…it seemed a barely recognizable wink in time. The cold feeling in his chest told him otherwise, however. It told him that, no matter how long a life may be, none of it might be lived with impunity. No part of a life may be considered a mere trifle and none of it can be considered disposable. It all has meaning that cannot be erased by a willful mind, or cheapened by a hardened heart. With love comes loss, sooner or later. That is unavoidable.

Needless to say, it was a melancholic 11,200th birthday.