She said: but they can also change.
I said: some of them.
She said: some of them.
We talked for another thirty minutes.
At ten-thirty, Alison and I said our goodbyes.
We walked out of the ballroom.
Down the elevator.
Through the lobby.
Into the October night.
The air was clear.
The hotel was a nice hotel,
the kind of hotel where a high school reunion would be held by people who had been planning it for months and who had organized very carefully around the specific guest list they wanted.
I stood on the sidewalk.
Alison stood beside me.
She said: so.
I said: so.
She said: how do you feel?
I thought about it.
I said: I feel like myself.
She said: yes?
I said: I walked into a room full of people who had decided what I was.
I said: and I walked out as what I actually am.
