Dateline: January 15, 2004 -

When I was a kid, there used to be this game called Opposite Day. We'd either spend all day saying things that were the opposite of true or doing things opposite of the way they were always done. Audrey and I played that game last night.

When making plans to see Return of the King, I decided that I didn't want to see it alone. I had a non-date date with Rosalinda the previous two installments. She and I weren't dating, but everyone around me wanted us to be. She was a big time D&D-type and was familiar with the books and therefore could explain things to me. Rosalinda has since left Texas, so I was looking for someone to watch it with and Audrey came to mind. We'd been hanging out since she wanted to mend fences a couple months ago. She was very enthusiastic about the idea and so we got together and that's when Audrey and I played our own version of Opposite Day:

At the last minute a few of her friends wanted to come along. I've never particularly gotten along with her friends and it had caused problems with Audrey in the past. There were times that I was the only one she was able to actually ever say "no" to. Tonight, however, she told them that she didn't want them to go. We actually get a night alone, something that I would have killed for three years ago but now seems as natural as can be.

We make plans to meet at the Adobe Cafe. I run a little late, but I'm not particularly worried since Audrey was always late to everything we'd ever done together. When I get there, she mentions that she's been waiting for fifteen minutes. Given our history, she couldn't get as mad about it as I usually did, but she doesn't look like she wants to be mad. When I apologize, she says that she's just happy that I showed up at all. That's exactly what I would have said to her, once upon a time.

We talk about everything under the sun as we ate. Without all the sour spots and Subjects That Dare Not Be Named, conversation is a lot easier. There are no uncomfortable gaps - no deadly moments of silence where are were left to wonder what the other is thinking and automatically expect the worst. She says nothing that makes me feel hurt or angry. I say nothing that made her feel indignant or guilty. We don't talk in endless circles about our past and where we're headed. We talk about subjects we enjoy talking about and have a good time doing it.

We still have a little time to kill before the movie starts so we sit by the fountain and talk some more. When she puts her head on my shoulder, I don't feel like I'm in heaven. She's not trying to get anything from me.

When we get to the theater, we don't sit a seat apart as was once the unfortunate norm. She looks at me watch the movie periodically the same way I had once looked at her. She puts her hand out and I almost take it. We look away and put our hands on our lap when we realize this isn't then. We're not holding on to what we once had anymore.

When the movie finished, I asked if she wants to call it an evening since she has to get up early tomorrow morning. She suggests that we hang out a little longer and share a couple drinks at Jillian's. There we talk about a few more things. We have the same rhythm that we had earlier in the evening. She lightly throws humorous jabs my way and, instead of getting angry, I lightly throw some back at her. I tell her something that has been upsetting me (that for once has nothing to do with her or romantic relationships) and instead of trying to out-do me, she just listens.

After a couple drinks we go out to the parking lot. She tells me that she doesn't want the night to end. She used to always have a reason for the night to end early. I told her that she needed to get home and get some sleep. I used to never take how much rest she needed - or what she needed to be doing - into consideration.

As I watch her get into her car, I wonder that if things had been this way three years ago, could we have been saved? I don't know, but I do know that the eleven months we spent fighting could instead be filled with more positive memories I could look back on with a smile instead of a grimace. Then I think about how catastrophic the collapse was. Could that have been avoided? If we'd avoided it, would I have met Eel? That's not a chance I would take. As cheesy as it sounds, as long as Eel remains at the end of that road, I'd go through every shout, doubt, and tear all over again. If Audrey's shroud kept me single for when Eel came along, it's a shroud I'll accept having had.

When Audrey and I first met, we were both in relationships. We got along so much better then. Without the pressure of falling in love, over three years ago we fell in love. At the very end, when we finally let go of one another, the pressure was gone and things were suddenly almost resurrected. When we've gotten beyond ourselves, the fireworks start going off.

But not today. Today is Opposite Day.