this was back in the late '90's
when everyone wore choke collars and dark lipstick
back before email and before smartphones meant everyone was electronically tagged and lobotomised.
I knew her from years ago
....we met in high school
...a boring story really.
We became friends...good friends
...at least from her perspective...
....better friends than we actually were...
then time moved on and...well, you know what happens...
people change and their personalities are revealed...
....their long term personalities.
You don't know anyone when you're young...
I mean...everyone is endlessly malleable
...agreeable.
You barely know yourself...
...and of course life messes you up along the way....
...and she was no exception.
She thought she was untouched, unscathed, pure, but she wasn't...
And our friendship?...
Well....it became something else
...we remained contractually linked through social media...
....we circled each other in a passive-aggressive texting pattern
like a neurotic game of table tennis...
the little white ball tick-tacking back and forth across the net...
tick-tack
tick-tack
tick-tack...
...all that smiling aggression funnelled into each mannered return...
...it annoyed me to no end but I played along.
(return serve, put a little spin on the ball)
So yes...
...there was there was defiantly some inbuilt antagonism.
The thing was....
in all that time, when we both lived in NYC, we never once crossed paths...
...at least that was the story she told everyone.
In actual fact, I saw her...
...several times...
in a crowd, coming out of a department store, walking through the park, on the subway...
...once she walked right past me
...too wrapped up in being beautiful and amazing and in the moment
...snow flakes drifting down through the canyon of buildings.
I don't know why i didn't say something or call out to get her attention...
something stopped me every time...
...maybe i wanted New York as my own
...maybe I didn't want her taking the experience from me...re-contextualising it
...maybe I didn't want to put up with her tiresome competitiveness...
Anyway, now we have this shared story...
...how we lived in the same place, walked the same streets and never saw each other.
And she tells people about this with unfaltering....wonder
...you know these people?
...who dwell on the miracle of a stupid coincidences?
...or near coincidences as the case maybe?
...who think their lives are magic...
...you know what I'm talking about.
Think of all the near misses, she would say with amazement.
I know right? I would reply, smiling, shaking my head.
Look, maybe this was all my need to control the situation?
Like i said, i find her just so damn competitive
...so controlling.
I find that i'm am always a bit player in her epic narrative.
It's nauseating....
The Princess in the big apple, laughing as snow flakes tumble around her
...like she was in a fairytale
...it was all too much.
I'd flown all the way to New York by myself....
...looking for my own adventure.
...and there she was
So no!
No way....
....i wasn't about to share the city with her...
...that was my time, my place....
I mean if she had seen me, if she could have been distracted from the direct feed of her own ego...
I would have acknowledged her...
of course.
Then she and I would have had a different story to tell.
Look, i know that i'm a messed up person...
...i'm the first to admit it.
This New York thing is the least of it...
....are you kidding me?
I told my 'therapist' all about this the other day...
this and some of the other shit i have pulled over the past couple of years...
...things i'm none too proud of...
My 'therapist' and i were driving down to the beach
in her car...
...she is actually another friend of mine...
...and I know this is going to sound horrible but here goes...
....she is real pushover
....a real sweetheart, but man is she a pushover
hopeless.
You end up feeling sorry for her and you kind of hate her at same time...
She is so open and generous.
Nothing like the Snow Princess....
Anyway, i'm trying to toughen her up
....get her thinking for herself.
...develop some of her rougher edges.
This is what i do...
....i confess all this terrible stuff to certain people in my life
I'm honest...
but the thing is....i tend to twist things around
...because its all in the telling right?
I just can't help it
i cast myself as the victim
i set off on the path of truth and get lost in the forrest of self-preservation.
...it's deplorable.
I'm deplorable.
I am aware of all this....
and i want to change...
...i really do.
i just can't help it.
Look, i need to download just like anyone else...
Seriously.
I want to change.
I really do.
...and become....
What?
I don't know...
someone else?
Sure.
Why not.....
....take all the rough edges off...
become a smooth pebble in a fast moving stream
(.....or some such hippie bullshit I happened across when i was free falling through the internet....)
(.....a smooth pebble like all the other smooth pebbles nestled together......)
(.....beige in colour.....)
(.....benign in nature....)
(.....a happy little stone....)
I actually think about changing my life in a significant way as my therapist and i drive down to the beach.
It's a lovely day...
...the sun, the clogging traffic...
...the sweeping coastal view as we round the last corner.
And once again, the eternal question: am I a terrible person?
I ask my therapist this question not really expecting an answer.
She begins to answer me which is really annoying because she can't detect this was rhetorical question...
...and I really wasn't fishing for her support.
Oh no, she warbles, we all have our faults....right?
She is anxious that every word she utters might offend someone...
...so she tests her options out before delivering them with any real conviction.
She suffers from social anxiety.
...says she admires me for my assertiveness.
My determination.
Anyway, we park and set off on our walk.
Sydney is busy even in the middle of the day...
...in the middle of the week.
The ocean batters the shoreline.
Each wave throws itself against the sharp rocks.
Now that's determination.
And I'm sure there is a lesson in this...
for all of us.
And today the ocean is so vast...
it could just swallow you right up.
Obviously this tension with the Snow Princess has been building for some time...
...playing on my mind...
...which brings us to the night in question.
The New York Snow Princess was sitting there, telling this story again...
....our dull story....
...she laughs, tilting her head back, telling the story again with fresh amazement...
...her friends, left and right are half listening....
(the whole time we were living in the city and we missed each.....etc. ect.)
I'd been drinking all afternoon...
....not that the booze saturation excuses my behaviour.
I just decided to undermine the story.
Throw a spanner in the works.
Mainly, I just didn't want to hear it again.
So I told her....
....actually, I interrupted her....
...when she was about half way through.
...and I set the record straight.
It was worth the expression on her face.
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