From London to New York to London again

I stayed up all night finishing a book because I thought I was reading a love story. It wasn't a love story at all. It was more a story about running away. About denying things you can never not be. About accepting that what you can and cannot put up with are not the same as what even your closest and dearest can and cannot put up with. It was, of course, about God. too.

When you've barely slept, having stayed up all night reading about God and running away, and not finding the love story you wanted to read, it probably isn't a great idea to tell people that yes, catching up would be a fine thing to do the next day. But that's exactly the type of thing I love to do.

When I walked into Melbourne Central it felt warm. Of course it would when I had just come in from the freezing outside. But when you're me, and you're always early, and you're cold blooded, sitting still in an open air space is not exactly the best way to keep warm. I think I was shivering by the time she arrived. Five minutes late.
"You're so dependably late," I say, standing up.
"Hi," she kisses my cheek and I can't help the blush. It feels wrong. Here. I think of all those strangers I'd brushed cheeks with in France and how I'd barely given it a thought there because everyone did it, and yet, here I was receiving a kiss from an old friend and I felt embarrassed.
"Shall we get a drink?"
"Sure. You still drinking coffee?" We start walking, instinctively in the same direction.
"Umm.. no, I've given it up."
"Good. I always said it was shit for you."
"You say that like I had a relationship with coffee."
"You did. You loved it. But only because it smelt so good, and because everyone else was drinking it and because it was the thing to do. But it wasn't good to you. You wouldn't believe me when I told you. It was only messing with you."
"Are you calling me shallow?"
She grinned at me. "I think I am."
"Thanks. Well, now that I've given it up for good, you can bag it all you like and you won't have to feel guilty if I ever take it back."
"Cos you won't?"
"No, cos you're not expected to like my choices in love."
"I see." She looked thoughtful. But we'd arrived outside the café. "umm.. So if you're not drinking coffee and I don't touch the stuff, what're we doing here?"
"They'll have other drinks."
"They do a shit hot chocolate."
"I'll translate that to mean, you want a hot chocolate and you don't want it here."
"Good work. Let's go Coco Black."

We order a hot chocolate each at Coco Black. I refrain from getting anything else, knowing full well I can't really afford it and that I won't be able to stomach so much chocolate in one sitting. Not even with help. I try a joke,
"You know, I think we'll be catching up quite a bit, seeing as you are finally back in the country for an indefinite amount of time and I have nothing better to do and no one else to irritate."
"Thanks. It's nice to see you again too."
"I'm just saying, we should probably find other drinks to like, and mix it up a bit."
"Come to my place next time and we'll have tea."
"I know a really nice cocktail bar..."
"It's 11am in the morning, and I thought you were broke."
"I am. But I feel hungover anyway, so what's a couple of drinks?" She doesn't laugh at my joke. She doesn't even smile. She frowns,
"You look... crap."
"Gee, thanks. And to think you even paused to try and find the right word."
"You're too pale."
"It's winter. I missed summer. Where was I s'pose to get myself a tan?"
"You're too thin."
"I'm not."
"You look like you haven't slept in a month."
"I haven't."
"You're not starving yourself are you?"
"Technically, it shouldn't be considered starving myself if I don't feel hungry."
"Technically, it's called anorexia and it's not funny."
"I'm not anorexic. I eat."
"Not enough, apparently."
"Oh come on, K. I didn't come out for this. I thought we were gonna have fun. It's not fun you talking to me like I'm a patient or something.."
"I'm talking to you like you're a friend."
I try to make it light again. Joke. "Must be every girl's dream, hey, to see their ex and be able to say they look like shit."
"I'm not the reason."
"Joke. Come on, K. Joke. Lighten up. Make me laugh. I promise if you make me laugh it'll make me hungry and then I'll eat up and become fat and then you can tell everyone that your ex got fat cos of you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."