A few days earlier, Beth had made an oblique reference that she knew where Cathy had ended up. I mentally filed that away, but didn’t bring it up again. Most of the time I have the context “Cathy who?” She doesn’t come up in the day to day. But there are ordinary objects, places, phrases and people which are actually disguised keys that unlock a hidden time period. In this group of friends, the Cathy-shaped gap must be quite prominent for them. I never really thought about it until now. She essentially fell off the face of the planet for seven years. For all of us.

I was hanging out in the backstage area with Dave’s wonderful interior designer housemate, discussing relationships and the Landmark Forum (which she was attending that weekend). Beth came in and joined us. I don’t recall how the conversation took this turn, but suddenly Beth was telling me things about Cathy. I remembered what Beth had said before and I asked if she knew where Cathy had ended up.

I remember her saying that Cathy was married and had a child. I blurted something and fled the room. I had expected her to tell me where she was living. This information was totally unexpected and it fried my brain. A roulette wheel of emotions started cutting into my chest. Whatever I was feeling, I only felt it for a few seconds before it changed into something else. I realized I was no longer backstage and there were people going to a fro. I found myself a doorway suitable for soliloquies and installed myself therein.

It wasn’t as though I had never considered it. I just never had the thought made real. Given the conversation I just had with the housemate, my heart was in a vulnerable place. It’s not that I was upset about her being married and having a child; it’s that my desire for a happy relationship was put into stark relief.

Seven years had passed. Lifetimes for me. But a portion of those years I kept frozen in a phial. Now that icy teardrop melted and flowed free.

I’m going on.