I went iceskating for the Sweetest Girl ’s birthday party and didn’t do so badly considering that I had been on iceskates only one other time in my life. The experience was the same as then:
Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
I didn’t fall. Though I came close a few times. Fortunately, I was supported by my male ego and determined not to bust my ass in front of the quartet of girls, among which one obviously thought I was cute. Mind you Drunken Mouse is a shite opener as it is, so trying to mac on ice is courting disaster.
We decided that wearing painful and unwashed skates had worn lost its novelty and decided to go get drunk. Yay.
I was feeling pretty down that day about the breakup but company kept me distracted until I went out for a smoke with Types. I started to bitch a bit about how women often complain about finding a good man but still don’t seem quite satisfied when they get one. This bitchfest was inspired by my buddy A-Mos recently getting the boot in the same exact manner as I, sans the friendly.
So anyway, Types and I go out for a smoke and cigarette dangling from his lips in his dishevled, should-be-British-but-I-am-not sort of way, say the most brilliant thing ever:
"Life is sort of tragic that way, when two people are not at the same place at the same time."
Fuck you, Types! I didn’t need that sort of logic being introduced into my personal melodrama, but it made me feel infinitely better.
I like to tell the consoling friends that "shit happens" but it is usually my flippant way of avoiding a discussion of the situation. Though after Types pearl of wisdom, I feel I can actually take that statement to heart more. We can’t control what the other person feels and if that means that you can’t be together, so be it.