Opening Up

Jun 15, 2013 by

          Last night, I was downtown at a chic bistro bar with one of my beauties, taste testing new foods. (I finally know what dim sum is! Yum! I also discovered that I don’t like duck, which will spare my bank account because I no longer feel the urge to try fois gras.) I’ve known the pretty lady I was with since high school, and our friendship is filled with the best clubbing, guy-meeting, and late-night-Denny’s-eating memories from the summer of 2008. (By the way, how has it been five years since then? Where did my energy go? I used to consider it early to arrive downtown at 12:30 am, I’d get home when it was light out, and I’d still survive work the next day before doing it all over again. I’m 23. Why is midnight already past my bed time? Ugh, old age!)

          A little over a month ago, this fabulous chick and her 3.5-year boyfriend broke up. She’s handling it like a champ! If there were an award for best post-breakup success story, I would nominate her and she would win by a unanimous vote. She’s become more confident and independent, she’s begun to go after what she wants in her life as an individual, and she’s already outlining standards for future relationships. I’m so proud of her!

          After listening to her life updates since seeing her a few weeks ago, I began to divulge some details about my life. To my own surprise, they weren’t the superficial tidbits that I usually give people. What I said to her was a lot more along the lines of what I would say right here on my blog. I confessed that I had been going through a really hard time over the last few years and that I had blamed most of it on Olivia, making the current state of my best friendship mostly my fault. I told her that, while crying on my bathroom floor one day, I decided that I was going to get up and save myself. I had decided that I was going to make myself happy, and now I am.

          It felt so good to be open with her. We realized that we both had only talked about these things (the aftermath of her breakup and my choice to be happy) to each other. When we were 18, we spent most of the summer together at clubs, restaurants, and anywhere we could sit and chat. In the last five years, we’ve seen each other only a handful of times. Life happens, I guess. No, I take that back. People and their choices happen. I kept my distance from everyone, including her. (Fear of people sucks.) Regardless, we’re the type of friends who don’t even need to pick up where we left off when we reconnect. We just continue, as if it’s the summer of 2008 all over again and we just flashed our fakes at our (now closed) club last night. That comfort level with a person is invaluable.

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