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Tell Me Something

I met him at the restaurant at noon. We used to do that every once in a while. We usually pick the same place - a restaurant close to where we once used to work. Back then it was really our only choice. These days we simply go there because we find it impossible to agree on any other place, and because it has become familiar and comfortable with time. Much like the way our relationship turned out to be with the years.
We sit and talk for an hour or two. There's something so convenient with being able to talk about people from all aspects of your life, without having to mention anything about their background or how they relate to you. A name suffices. Today was a bit different though. He wasn't relaxed. He seemed preoccupied with what I could only interpret as unpleasant thoughts. Maybe remains from the meeting that he'd been to prior to our small get-together. Maybe something more serious. Problems? At work? At home? I didn't want to pry too much. I figured if it was that important then he would tell me. We had a great time. I'm sure he would say the same, but as we walked towards the parking lot, he slowed his pace for a second and I could see a slight wrinkle appear on his forehead. He was getting serious. He was about to speak. But then he simply combed his fingers swiftly through his hair, the way he usually does when he's embarrassed, smiled what even I can consider a genuine smile, and pulled out his car keys.
Driving back to the office I couldn't escape the feeling that he had something to tell me. That he planned to tell me today and for some reason, he did not tell me after all. Maybe he could not gather the courage. I don't know. I never asked...

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