“What…”

“You’ve said those exact words to me more times than you might believe.”

I look at her. She’s shivering in the night air. Go in, I say to myself. Just keep it together. I take a deep breath. “On second thought, I’ll make the tea.” We step inside.

While I make the tea, she grabs a towel for me to dry off, and a robe I left here last time we had a movie night. Tea poured, we sit on the couch.

“Alright,” she says. “Spill. Straight to the point.”

“Okay.” Another deep breathe. “There are three types of people in this world. Most, maybe 95%, are born, live their lives, and die. End of story.”

“Dramatic start,” she says. “Depressing, but dramatic.”

“Sometimes, one of those gains a sort of enlightenment. Most often, not even knowing it. But through this enlightenment, they continue even when their bodies don’t. Reborn, again and again, subconsciously remembering their lives, thinking them just dreams. And…”

“And… What? You’re saying that we…”

“No. Not we. Just you. I’m… something else.”