I realize that I have been drifting off. I have not heard a word that she's said for the past five minutes. I stare at my hands as if they were the most important thing to me. My thumb flicks at the nail on my ring finger, nail polish flaking off, exposing the whiteness. I don't know what to think, and I'm trying to forget what I'm listening to. Her voice drones on in the background, and I think to myself, I know that this is important, that I should be listening that if I don't listen I'm going to be forced to look up at her, and she'll know, know in an instant that the words she has been saying have been passing right through me.
But I don't know how to listen. I don't know how to deal with this. It's not so much that I don't care, but rather that I care more about myself than anything else. I am so worried that I will have to be inconvenienced by the actions and feelings of another person that I block out any chance of that.
I'm also scared. Scared because I don't have the answers. I don't have any of the answers that are needed at this part of the conversation. I can't make it better, I can't fix everything, and I definitely don't know what to say right now.
"So what are we supposed to do?"
I raise my head slowly, my eyes coming up to join them, and look past her, out the open window, a cool night breeze seeping through, pushing her hair out of the way, and beckoning me to join it.