They get together, and she prepares to summarize her life, for convenience purposes, down to the best three lines she can offer.

What does he want to hear? Oh yes, it sounds like, “How have you been?” and “What’ve you been up to?”

She opens her mouth to speak and answers as though she’s writing him a postcard. She tells him only the good things. Not that she doesn’t know who he is anymore or that things didn’t turn out the way she hoped they would.

Instead, she says how wonderful everything is and that she’s never been so happy in her life. She tells him of her many plans- so very many.

She’s nearly done, and she sees him across the table, writing the personal postcard he’ll address to her.

She signs her postcard, “Wish you were here…” and she really wishes he was, though he’s sitting right in front of her.

Finally looking up at him, she asks, “When did we stop telling the truth?”

“When you picked up the pen,” he replies.