Arena

The conversation had gone well so far. Aimless chatter, catching up, reminiscing about the past. It was cordial, casual, and good. The waiter came by, grabbed the clear plates and refilled my glass. I played with the condensation on the outside a little as the conversation hit a lull.

"Are you happy?"

My initial reaction was to go on the defensive, but I refrained from saying anything. If this were any other situation the question would seem amicable. But this was different. It was such a loaded question that implied so much. Passive aggressive, typical. I would have put up a serious fight any other time. But I had gotten out of bed at some god-forsaken hour to be here on time. I knew I was going to be exhausted all day so I wanted to save some energy for work.

I gave myself some time to think through a response. I had to be careful and diligent with my word choice. I couldn't seem taken aback or surprised - I am good at this game and I will win it. I must. The noise of Union Station began to creep into the diner as the rest of the city slowly woke up. Finally I knew what to say. It had seemed like an hour had passed when in reality it had only been but 15 to 20 seconds.

"Yes, I am happy" I tried to act surprised and imply that he shouldn't even be asking that question, why wouldn't I be? He seemed taken aback at first that I was so confident in my answer. I had turned the tables on him, and revealed his weakness. But I had shown my hand too early. This was just a feign with his left hand. It was a trap I fell into and had given it my all. Suddenly I was open and defenseless for his right hook.

"I wanted you to know that your mother and I don't respect your decision."

Dazed, struggling for words, this could not be the end. I needed to rebound, pull my right hand back and deliver some jab.

"I know, I never thought you did." Weak, and a parry.

"You had mentioned it before. We don't respect your decision. We allow you to make your own, as you are a grown man, but we don't respect it. And some day, you will see that you are not happy. You will come around and change your mind." Left handed hook right into my jaw. I could feel my bones slowly creaking from the pressure. Did my jaw just become dislocated?

"Ok, well that is good to know." Dammit, that was the biggest white flag I have ever flown before. I couldn't even hear the count for the K.O., it seemed to happen so quickly. Was there a mob outside the diner? All I can hear is some loud white noise filling my eardrums.

But this is just round 4 of many. You have won. I spent the rest of the day nursing my wounds, planning the next dance we will have. But we will have another. And I will be ready. But ultimately, in the end it doesn't matter. Because like any career, I can retire and move on. You may not, in fact, you probably won't. But once I have left the ring, you will be alone in the cold, empty arena, waiting for a fight that will never come. You can only fight so many times until one has had enough. And that isn't a surrender, it is being the adult and moving on from a fight that will never end. Enjoy that cold arena.