I logged onto Stephen's blog in the morning and saw his beautiful pictures of Leh that he had painstakingly uploaded on a dial-up connection, and for reasons that I will leave to you to speculate, I started tearing up.
The photos were really beautiful and I was really happy that Stephen's travel plans on paper had become real. I was very proud of my friend that he achieved what he had set out to do on this leg of his journey back to India.I then went on (almost non-stop) to get a haircut, meet a friend for lunch, buy a gift for another friend's birthday party I was attending later, squeeze in a sweaty workout at the gym, meet another friend for a post-workout coffee, buy a new shirt (I so heart Ted Baker!), get my groceries, rush home to shower and change and then head back out to the birthday dinner.
Edwin's 33rd birthday party was a hoot and a half and the peanut-butter cake was out of this world! After dinner, we headed on to Zeta Bar, which was home to a so-so cover band and a super-odd assortment of patrons. But we didn't care and proceeded to have our own party in our corner, hamming it up for Facebook pictures and other private galleries.
I left the party around midnight to meet with a friend who was going through his own painful drama: rejection, denial, failure to comprehend and just a feeling of being lost and not knowing how he was ever gonna get out of his depression and hurt - he was in deep. I was also a bit concerned that he was trying to be strong and was keeping it all bottled in.It was good to see him cry and just come to terms with his situation. Or at the very least, begin to let the hurt move him along in the recovery process, instead of shutting him down numb. It also gave me some perspective on where I stood in terms of how I had dealt with stuff when I was his age, and where I am now, and one thing remains the same - hurt is hurt.
Like i said, it was a Saturday like no other I've had in a long, long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment