I'm Thinking of Ending Things Read Online Free Page A
Author: Iain Reid
just a stupid fluke, but Iâve been biting my nails since fifth grade.
âThe night you called, we were having a dinner party. Iâd made a pecan galette with salted caramel sauce for dessert. That call. The whole night was ruined for everyone after we heard. I can still remember every word of your call.
âThe kids were out when I heard. I called you right away.
âWas he depressed or sick? Do we know if he was depressed?
âApparently he wasnât on any antidepressants. He was keeping secrets, though. Iâm sure there were more.
âYeah.
âIf weâd only known how serious it was. If only thereâd been some signs. There are always signs. People donât just do that.
âThis wasnât a rational person.
âThatâs true, thatâs a good point.
âHeâs not like us.
âNo, no. Not like us at all.
âIf you have nothing, thereâs nothing to lose.
âYeah. Nothing to lose.
I think a lot of what we learn about others isnât what they tell us. Itâs what we observe. People can tell us anything they want. As Jake pointed out once, every time someone says âPleased to meet you,â theyâre actually thinking something different, making some judgment. Feeling âpleasedâ is never exactly what theyâre thinking or feeling, but thatâs what they say, and we listen.
Jake told me our relationship has its own valence. Valence . Thatâs the word he used.
If thatâs true, then relationships can change from one afternoon to evening, from hour to hour. Lying in bed is one thing. When we eat breakfast together and when itâs early, we donât speak a lot. I like to talk, even just a bit. It helps me wake up. Especially if the conversation is funny. Nothing wakes me up like a laugh, really, even just one big laugh, as long as itâs sincere. Itâs better than caffeine.
Jake prefers to eat his cereal or toast and read, mostly in quiet. Heâs always reading. Lately itâs that Cocteau book. He must have reread it five times by now.
But he also just reads whateverâs available. At first I thought he was quiet at breakfast because he was so into whatever book hewas reading. I could understand that, though itâs not how I operate. I wouldnât ever read this way. I like to know I have a good bit of time set aside for reading, to really get into the story. I donât like reading and eating, not together.
But itâs the reading just for the sake of it that I find irritating. Jake will read anythingâa newspaper, a magazine, a cereal box, a crappy flyer, a take-out menu, anything.
âHey, do you think secrets are inherently unfair, or bad or immoral in a relationship?â I ask.
Heâs caught off guard. He looks at me, then back to the road.
âI donât know. It would depend on the secret. Is it significant? Is there more than one secret? How many are there? And what is being hidden? All relationships have secrets, though, donât you think? Even in lifelong relationships, and fifty-year marriages, there are secrets.â
On the fifth morning we had breakfast together I stopped trying to start up a discussion. I didnât make any jokes. I sat. I ate cereal. Jakeâs brand. I looked around the room. I watched him. I observed. I thought: This is good. This is how we really get to know each other.
He was reading a magazine. There was a faint white film or residue under his bottom lip, concentrated in the corners of his mouth, in the valley where the top and bottom lips meet. This happened most mornings, this white lip film. After he showered, it was usually gone.
Was it toothpaste? Was it from breathing out of his mouth all night? Was it the mouth equivalent of eye boogers? When he read,he chewed very slowly, as if to conserve energy, as if concentrating on the words slowed his ability to swallow. Sometimes there was a long delay between the last
âThe night you called, we were having a dinner party. Iâd made a pecan galette with salted caramel sauce for dessert. That call. The whole night was ruined for everyone after we heard. I can still remember every word of your call.
âThe kids were out when I heard. I called you right away.
âWas he depressed or sick? Do we know if he was depressed?
âApparently he wasnât on any antidepressants. He was keeping secrets, though. Iâm sure there were more.
âYeah.
âIf weâd only known how serious it was. If only thereâd been some signs. There are always signs. People donât just do that.
âThis wasnât a rational person.
âThatâs true, thatâs a good point.
âHeâs not like us.
âNo, no. Not like us at all.
âIf you have nothing, thereâs nothing to lose.
âYeah. Nothing to lose.
I think a lot of what we learn about others isnât what they tell us. Itâs what we observe. People can tell us anything they want. As Jake pointed out once, every time someone says âPleased to meet you,â theyâre actually thinking something different, making some judgment. Feeling âpleasedâ is never exactly what theyâre thinking or feeling, but thatâs what they say, and we listen.
Jake told me our relationship has its own valence. Valence . Thatâs the word he used.
If thatâs true, then relationships can change from one afternoon to evening, from hour to hour. Lying in bed is one thing. When we eat breakfast together and when itâs early, we donât speak a lot. I like to talk, even just a bit. It helps me wake up. Especially if the conversation is funny. Nothing wakes me up like a laugh, really, even just one big laugh, as long as itâs sincere. Itâs better than caffeine.
Jake prefers to eat his cereal or toast and read, mostly in quiet. Heâs always reading. Lately itâs that Cocteau book. He must have reread it five times by now.
But he also just reads whateverâs available. At first I thought he was quiet at breakfast because he was so into whatever book hewas reading. I could understand that, though itâs not how I operate. I wouldnât ever read this way. I like to know I have a good bit of time set aside for reading, to really get into the story. I donât like reading and eating, not together.
But itâs the reading just for the sake of it that I find irritating. Jake will read anythingâa newspaper, a magazine, a cereal box, a crappy flyer, a take-out menu, anything.
âHey, do you think secrets are inherently unfair, or bad or immoral in a relationship?â I ask.
Heâs caught off guard. He looks at me, then back to the road.
âI donât know. It would depend on the secret. Is it significant? Is there more than one secret? How many are there? And what is being hidden? All relationships have secrets, though, donât you think? Even in lifelong relationships, and fifty-year marriages, there are secrets.â
On the fifth morning we had breakfast together I stopped trying to start up a discussion. I didnât make any jokes. I sat. I ate cereal. Jakeâs brand. I looked around the room. I watched him. I observed. I thought: This is good. This is how we really get to know each other.
He was reading a magazine. There was a faint white film or residue under his bottom lip, concentrated in the corners of his mouth, in the valley where the top and bottom lips meet. This happened most mornings, this white lip film. After he showered, it was usually gone.
Was it toothpaste? Was it from breathing out of his mouth all night? Was it the mouth equivalent of eye boogers? When he read,he chewed very slowly, as if to conserve energy, as if concentrating on the words slowed his ability to swallow. Sometimes there was a long delay between the last
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