Not Real

"Victor, none of this is real," she said brokenly.

He thought about that, a heavy foreboding beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach. "None of what?" he asked. "Graduate school? All these virtual systems games? The life and work of Mister Victor Gardner? — Yeah you're right, all that stuff is pretty much beyond belief." He was trying hard. He was getting nowhere.

"You know what I mean," she said.

He did know. So he lay there for a minute trying to pretend that he did not know what she meant, exactly what she meant. He wondered if he should start crying himself, though it didn't seem a very supportive thing to do. He settled for holding her tighter and kissing her again, trying not to do what every foredoomed idiot who's about to lose the love of his life always does, namely, start obsessing about Finality.