Of what use are accomplishments, achievements and remembrances without someone with whom to share them?  It seems that they just become meaningless stories we keep telling ourselves; an echo chamber with an audience of one.  I know friends count, but that someone special seems to add that undefinable something that makes it all worthwhile.  And the absence makes it seem that much more unimportant.  Or maybe I'm wrong.  Just a random thought I had while telling a story...

He'd closed his eyes for too long, but the breeze's effect on the chimes had been enchanting.  That and the happy chatter of the birds had lulled him into a delicious state of semi-conciousness.  But she was waiting, and that was one of her habitual complaints, that he kept her waiting. And that thought, more than the groaning of the passing motorcycle or the suddeness of the neighbour's radio, brought reality back to him.  She.  Her.  The woman who hated waiting, was just going to have to wait today, her last.

He'd decided last night, while they had kissed their goodbyes, that her time had come.  She'd grow too used to the current arrangement, and it was time for what she blithely called "a life changing moment," or some such psuedo-intellectualism.  He preferred the straight forward and called it her end.

He rose from the deck chair, lazily stretched and made his way inside.  He knew she would be waiting, her mouth full of offal, or at least that's what he pictured based upon what usually proceeded from her.  True to his predictions, he was always right where she was concerned, she stood in the frame of the kitchen door.  She.  Her.  And proceeded to make her best effort at castration.  Having long ago resigned himself to the subtleties of the neutered lifestyle, he just smirked through her efforts.  Darlin, he thought, you can't cut off what's already in your purse, and you look damn foolish tryin.  Anyway, it was time. 
He smiled to himself, but it sent a message anyway.  She paused mid tirade and just stared, unable to believe that he could smile at a time like this.  A time of utter crisis, the crisis of the wait.  He knew he had her at that pause.  His smile broadened, and it was done.  She was through.   He walked up to her and gently kissed her forehead.  It was the sweetest kiss he'd had in years. 

"I'll be ready in five," was all he said as he headed up the stairs.  He glanced down at her at the last moment, and caught her checking.  The look on her face was one of childlike bewilderment.  She just stood there, staring at her newly emptied purse, and she waited.

This line caught my attention today.  It made me stop and really think about its validity...

"If you can love someone with your whole heart, even one person, then there's salvation in life.  Even if you can't get together with that person."
-1Q84 by Haruki Murakami

It's the second half that grabs me...