"I will miss you."

"Thank you. I believe you will."

"I will."

"That makes me smile."

"Who will I talk to when I want to talk to you?"

"I won't be gone."

"You won't be here."

"No. But... think for a moment of your favorite film; or book passage; or piece of music; one that, when you're alone, brings tears."

"Okay."

"When it is over, and you are sitting by yourself, what do you hear?"

"Nothing?"

"What else?"

"Silence?"

"What else?"

"An echo."

"Go on."

"In my head. It reverberates. I remember."

"And then?"

"And then, I cry a little more. And then I smile. And then I get up and I move on."

"When I am gone, that's how you will talk to me. I will be there... in the echo."

"How will I hear what you are saying?"

"You'll have to listen closely. You'll feel the reverberation."

"I'm afraid."

"I am too."

"Are you afraid of dying?"

"Of course. Part of me."

"What else?"

"What else am I afraid of?"

"Yes."

"Inconsequentiality."

"How do you overcome that?"

"Some days I don't. But I can remind myself that I believe I am part of the whole, and in that big picture, no single individual is any more or any less necessary than any other individual."

"I like that thought. What else?"

"I am afraid of my anger."

"Why?"

"Because even though it can serve as a springboard to action, it can also impair my ability to reason."

"Which is more important?"

"Between action and reason?"

"Yes."

"I don't know."

"What else are you afraid of?"

"I used to be afraid of not knowing."

"What changed?"

"I realized there are many, many things I will never know. To be afraid of not knowing seems a waste of energy. So instead, now I'm afraid of people who pretend to know."

"Why?"

"Because maybe they're not pretending."

"What else?"

"I'm afraid it's too late."

"Too late for what."

"Not for what---for who?"

"Then, for who?"

"For us."

"For me and you?"

"No... for humanity."

"Why? What's going to happen?"

"I don't know. ...The future."

"What can I do?"

"Find your place."

"How do I do that?"

"You have to figure that out. I believe you have to choose and create, or at least define your own meaning and purpose."

"What did you do?"

"To find myself?"

"Yes."

"Truthfully, I am still looking. But most consistently, I have worked hard."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. I have always searched for answers; and as I've gotten older, I have asked more and more questions."

"Did you find answers?"

"Yes... ...No. Mostly of late, I have just found more questions."

"So you are still looking for answers and for yourself, but did you find your place?"

"Yes. I am here with you."

"I mean, in the world."

"Now... Here... With you... This is the world."

"What will you miss?"

"You."

"Besides me; besides people."

"Music. And books. And coffee shops. And walking... ...especially walking to coffee shops. And Beauty. Maybe, mostly Beauty."

"There's lots of Beauty. But I see lots of ugliness too."

"That's okay. The ugliness makes the Beauty more striking; and more meaningful."

"Yes. I see that. I think you mean that we need opposites for balance; right?"

"I think so. Yes. If we were only comfortable; or if we always thought everything was Perfect; I think that would be boring. I can't avoid pain; so I choose to embrace it when it comes, and maybe I can learn from it. Some people try to ignore it."

"What have you learned from pain?"

"That it's okay to make mistakes."

"What else?"

"That sometimes I prefer pain. For example, the pain and difficulty of truthfulness, over the comfort of pretentious courtesy."

"Wow."

"Yeah. I've been saving that one."

"So, why?"

?"Why do I prefer truthfulness?"

"Yes."

"Because I believe it has more potential."

"Potential for what?"

"For productivity. For learning and growth. For building relationships; and discouraging divisiveness."

"But what if I don't agree? What if your truthfulness creates problems? Or causes divisiveness?"

"It could. That's when we negotiate. Or I can fall back to being nice."

"Do you ever just stop speaking to someone if negotiation doesn't work?"

"First, if I don't let my anger drive me away, I'll try just being nice. But yes; sometimes people fall away. And depending on how important they are to me, sometimes I let them."

"I think I see. By being nice, you can hang on and maybe negotiate later."

"Yes. There is that. But also, I could be wrong. And if I see that I'm wrong, then the negotiation could turn toward their truth."

"So if each one of us can have our own truth, how do we ever find an actual Truth?"

"I don't believe we can. Today's truth is a matter of negotiation. Tomorrow's truth will be a different negotiation with a different outcome. My truthfulness is different from upper-case Truth in that my truthfulness is only a reflection of what I think; or believe; and then sometimes I verbalize and/or act upon it."

"And it changes."

"Yes. Often from one moment to the next. I am in constant negotiation with myself."

"That sounds wearing."

"Yes. It is. But it can also be rewarding."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just decide and know?"

"Yes. It would."

"But you say you could be wrong."

"True."

"So how do you know?"

"I don't."

"Okay. I think you're saying that uncertainty is important."

"In a sense, yes. I believe uncertainty is reality, and I believe reality is uncertain. But you have to decide for yourself; because again, I could be wrong."

"So much uncertainty... it's discouraging."

"But I'm not saying we "are" wrong. I'm just saying we have to allow for that possibility. If we don't, we may stop asking questions; and we may stop searching; and then we may stop learning. That, for me, is more discouraging."

"So there is hope?"

"I believe there is."

"Where?"

"In the echo."

"I'm still afraid."

"I am too."

"I Love You."

"I Love You too."