“This is so real.”

“…”

“Jenny, this feels so real.”

“…”

“…”

“What?”

“Like, it is happening. You’re like, letting me get to second base with you.”

“Uh.”

“Is my hand cold? Oh god, it probably is. I’m sorry.”

“…”

“I’m messing this up, aren’t I?”

“No, no…uh. I mean, just. Uh. Do you have to be touching my boob to feel real?”

“…”

“Dave?”

“…”

“Dave, you’re pinching me.”

“Uh. I mean, this is sort of new, for me, at least. In that, well, in comparison to the realness of our times together, before, like, what I felt then, well this is, uh, and I have no other way to say it other than that this right now, it makes that other realness seem, actually, in contrast, I guess, only apparently real. Actually in truth un-real and maybe bland. My eyes are open, in other words. Because right now it is so sublime.”

“…”

“Jenny?”

“…”

“Jenny?”

“I’ve never made you feel sublime?”

“…”

“All this time and I haven’t…”

“No, no. Uh. I’m feeling that way right now, Jenny. I mean. Uh. Oh god.”

“But is that what you really mean, Dave? That my face, my conversational skill, my absolutely fantastic casseroles, that all of it was never sublime to you? Is that what you really mean? That it was actually some sort of test-run or ‘demo’ up until this? Up until that, right there, got to touch this, right here? That you never saw my Norwegian hair and my above-average facial skin during the golden hour of the evening in Mill Ruins Park amidst the city-grimed snowdrifts through the fog of our intermingled breath haloing our nigh glowingly young visages and thought, secretly, to yourself, in that way of yours, with that face you do, that I was…”

“Uh, you see here. Jenny. Jen…”

“Look at me.”

“…”

“Jesus, do I have to talk for both of us?”

“Jenny. I am here. I am seeing you for real. I am, I was, well, I was trying to compliment you. I was trying to express this thing inside me, for you. Because I wannedta tell you how I feel. Felt. God. Oh God. And so but so now well like I, I realize that I needed to do that not in comparison to what came before, so as not to put you down. Put this down. It had to have come, should’ve come, well, whatever I said, I realize now, from nowhere. From beyond anything that ever was. Like this is. Because it is. It is like magic is. And you are. Because it is sublime. And I am an idiot. And I did not mean to denigrate you.”

“…”

“Jen, I am sorry….”

“…”

“Jenny.”

“Dave.”

“What?”

“…”

“What?”

“I like to be denigrated.”

“Uh.”

“Dave, ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“You grabbed it too hard.”

“Uh.”

“…”

“…”

“Do you think this is the first time I’ve had this conversation?”

“Uh…”

“Do you think I don’t know what it means when two young people sit in a stopped car for thirty minutes and watch the darkening sky? Do you think I don’t watch my face in every mirror I ever see? Do you think that I wear this EasyClasp bra every damn day? Do you think I do not know what you were going to say, I mean, just now. Do I sound lost in this conversation? Do you think I don’t know what comes next.”

“Uh.”

“I’m tired and I’m not fighting it, Dave. I’m letting it all happen.”

“No, Jenny. Uh. Sorry.”

“…”

“…”

“You are not my first love. There; I said it. And, you know, I’ve found that there’s no compliments that come from nowhere. So don’t just lie about it. Don’t just say something you can’t do and pretend like you’ve done it. Nothing just ever appears, like that, and so it is. It’s like here: this city. It might look like the whole world, Dave, but it is nothing in the eyes of others. And gawdammit it’s everything you’ve ever known. I can see the fields, the oppressive low skies, the winters, in your eyes. In your forehead, your pelvis. And so but I have resigned myself to the mediocrity of men, Dave. I have come to love being denigrated.”

“…”

“Do you know what that means? Did you know that I can control my heart rate?”

“Uh.”

“…”

“Uh. Jenny, you sound so adult, when you talk. When you say as you think. Here I was thinking we were still children, and then…”

“Dave.”

“…”

“Please shut up.”

“…and I just wanna…Oh jeez…”

“…Christ, Dave. Shh, shh.”

“Imsorrythatimg-gryingrightgnow, ughksssph”

“…there, there.”

“Jeeghz. Ohngawd”

“There ya go. Let it out.”

“…”

“…”

“Jenny, youreyestheresopreddy.”

“…”

“…”

“Dave, no…”

“Jennythey’reshinginginthelight, kssshhhhph.”

“Wipe your nose, Dave. Use your hands.”

“…”

“Izthagbetter?”

“Christ.”

“Jenny yourgface ghas became alibe ingthelight. Jenny yourare zo zublime to me. Oh Jeeghz! Kzzzghb.”

“…”

“Whag? Whagizut? Jenghny?”

“…”

“Jenghny, speab tobme.”

“…”

“Whag-zhouldi’vei’vegsaid?”

“Do you feel my heart, Dave? Do you feel it going for you?”

“…”

“That’s for you. It’s going to be all-all-right.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Ouch.”

“Iamzozozorry.”