Days
Two friends met.
"He said he loved me, you know," the one with translucent eyes said.
"I don't," replied the dark eyed friend.
"Well, he did. He said that to me. He meant it when he said it."
A silence.
"He did mean it."
"Did he say he would love you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, when he said it. He told you he loved you. Did he say he would love you tomorrow? Or the day after, or on Christmas? Do you get what I'm saying?"
"Well, no he didn't say anything like that."
"So he loved you that day. Does it have to mean anything more than that. He loved you when he said it. You believed it, I believe it. It's probably even true."
"It was true."
"Sure."
"But it can't be true, either. Love is supposed to permanent."
"Who told you that?"
"No-one told me that, it just is."
"No-one told him, I guess."
"He should have known."
"Maybe you should have known."
"What?"
"Nothing is permanent."
A silence, again.
"What's that point if it isn't permanent."
"What's the point of anything?"
Silence.
"I can't decide."
"Me neither."
"But it felt good though."
"What did?"
"When he loved me."
"Oh. Sure."
"Is that the point?"
"I dunno."
Silence.
"Do you believe in God?"
"I am tempted to sigh."
"If there was a god."
"Okay. If there was a god."
"His love would be permanent."
"Why?"
"Because he is permanent."
"His love could be permanent."
"Could."
"Do you think it would be? If there was a god, I mean."
"It wouldn't matter."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not."
"Not what?"
"Permanent."
"If there was a god you would be permanent."
"I don't think I could be loved permanently."
"Why?"
"What would be the point?"
"What do you mean?"
"If I'm permanent and the love is permanent, what would any of it mean? If I can love you forever, what does it mean for me to love you right now? It means so little, it means as much as one second amongst trillions could mean. It is infinitesimal. It is absurd."
"Absurd."
"He loved you for at least one of the several thousand days you've been alive."
"Uh huh."
"More importantly, he loved you for one of the few thousand days he will be alive."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"I get it."
"Yeah."
"What value is one of his days to me, though?"
"Not sure. Did you love him?"
"I do. Love him."
"How long?"
"Huh?"
"How long have you loved him?"
"Years."
"One of his days is worth years to you, then. I guess."
"I don't follow."
"He loved you for one day, so you loved him for years. That's the exchange rate."
"I'm not sure I like that."
"You accepted."
Silence.
"I would have done it for zero days."
"Done what?"
"Loved him. I would have loved him all these years for no days of love in return. What is a day worth then?"
"You can't divide by zero."
"It's undefined."
"It's undefined."
"We are where we started then."