Body of Lies, Moments of Truth

It’s called Body of Lies, he said.  I’ve never heard of it, but our choice was that or High School Musical, so it wasn’t difficult to make.  We met like we always do, walking together inside, saying hello to the faces behind the counter we know longer recognize.  When did they get so old? He asked.  When did we? The catch up was minimal, the special effects budget was high; we were underimpressed to say the least.  But now that we’re getting older, we figured we should probably do the thing that people our age do – move to the bar.  One mocked me for ordering a glass of white wine at a pub, while the other debated ordering a pina colada just to get the funny looks.  (they’re nothing if not comics, both of them). I ignored the looks directed at me, and they did the same.  We were all used to it.  This is a game we’ve played many times before.

We meet between semesters, the same way we used to when were were drum majors and homecoming kings and smokers.  We catch up on the important details – the love, the sex, the secrets, the self-discovery.  And the dirty jokes.

Would you call this a double date or a threesome? one asked.  That question has remained unanswered for 5 years, and it seems almost criminal to answer it now. Call it whatever you want honey, but the words can’t even begin to describe.

We drank and laughed and returned to our favorite conversation – secrets.  We make a good confessional, and as they took turns pulling the skeletons from their closets, I listened and let them make their peace with one and other.  It made me wonder if this is what men look like when they’re together on their own.  Fumbling for words and making jokes but poking away at free flowing emotions, or if I am yet again a catalyst for feelings unspoken.  Then it was my turn.  Forgive me father for I have sinned.  Resentment.  Idolitry. Boredom.  Not quite what it used to be, they agreed, but we are all growing up.

This is totally off topic, he interjected, but why the hell was it called Body of Lies? We had no idea.

He gave up cigarettes – very impressive - but I still came home smelling like smoke.  And secrets.  They told me the names they’ll remember when they’re old, and I told them the ones I won’t.  We could say anything, which is a feeling wonderful and forgotten to me as of late, and we knew it would stay between the three of us.  Sure, they had their “moment” that changed it all that they refuse to share (mostly because it makes great teasing material), and I won’t give them a number of knotches on my lipstick case, but everything else is open season.  In a room full of people there are private moments of truth, somehow floating between a football charmer, an irreverent commedian, a sweet little girl with bright eyes.  A settling soul, a Seattle-bound body, and a feisty little girl looking to answer to no one but herself.  A double date, or a threesome.  Call it whatever you want honey, but the words can even begin to describe.

“The only thing worse than growing up is never quite learning how.”

Yours.Rachel