Push too far into independence and we disconnect and hurt each other. Then in a longing for togetherness, we seek each other out; fumbling around for the warmth of the other. Push too far into intimacy and we get afraid of losing ourselves in it and head the other way. It is the ongoing interplay between independence and intimacy.
Lies rob us of our trust and we project our untrustworthiness onto everyone around us. Have you ever noticed that the innocent are very trusting? They neither lie nor hold other people’s lies against them. Liars, on the other hand, see sabotage everywhere.
She puts her head on his shoulder, and for a second, it's like the other good night, the night of the bonfire, the brief lifting of the yoke, freedom from the circle: Marco hurting Anna, Anna hurting Ted, Ted hurting Rachel, these endless rounds of jealousy and harm.
He'd never empathized with Rachel more than he did in those moments, imagining what it would be like to be innocently eating lunch with a person who had been acting for all the world as though he liked you, who had given you no hint that anything was bothering him at all, when suddenly, out of nowhere, wham, it turned out you were completely wrong about him, and that everything he'd been telling you was a lie.
The relationship, whatever form it may take now and in the future, is already in motion. It is already bringing up the right issues. Regardless of its destined outcome, it is working in that good/bad, pleasure/painful way that important relationships do. Keep your own eyes on a straight course of love and trust and it will help to move everything in that direction.
Every so often, over the next day or so, she would find herself in a gray, daydreamy mood, missing something, and she'd realize that it was Robert she missed, not the real Robert but the Robert she'd imagined on the other end of all those text messages during break.