We meet at the small Israeli restaurant on Rand Street. We haven’t seen each other for months, but talk and laughter come easily.

When we were young, we were inseparable. I always thought we’d be the best of friends. But we have trouble with even the smallest distances between us. And life has taken us to different places. Today we meet in the city between.

Over our plates of falafel and bowls of the day’s soup, your smile fades. You tell me you’ve fallen out of love with your boyfriend. You wonder at the inconsistency of affection, at the expectation to remain constant.

I begin to tell you that life and love aren’t easy. That love is a choice you make from moment to moment. But you’re leaving for a job overseas, and I can see that your heart has already moved on ahead.

We finish lunch and say goodbye. You dissolve into the city. I may never see you again.