The NeverEnding Story
Everyone is familiar with the popular 80’s movie, The Neverending Story, about a young boy who is bullied in school and gets lost in a book that is filled with fantasy and adventures. I recently came across it while flipping through channels and not only did it bring me back to my childhood but it also got me thinking about our own “never ending” stories.
They say that WE are the ones responsible for creating our own happiness, our own future outcome and that we get back in life what we put out. As we are all too familiar with, sometimes in life there are certain set-backs that change how we view our own lives and then there are times when life throws us a curve ball that we don’t know how to catch.
Last Sunday, one of my very close friends lost his mother. I had the privilege of meeting her several times and she was a wonderful woman who also raised an amazing son. It was amazing to see how our entire group of friends dropped everything that was going on in our lives and managed to support in any way for our friend. From helping him pack to taking him to the airport and of course the endless amount of phone calls, texts, emails to make sure that our friend was alright. Unfortunately, it takes dramatic events like this to put things into perspective for us and our stories. We run around every day being a part of this rat race and it’s rare that we stop and give thanks or show appreciation for the things we have already accomplished. Knowing that someone you love very much is in that amount of pain is something you don’t even wish upon your worst enemy and yet you know that no matter what you say or do, you can’t make the situation any better. All I do know is that my friends’ mother was a wonderful woman and her story will never end.
On Monday, I spent most of the day doing my best to organize things for my friend while he flew back home to be with his family. Every time I would write an email or text that dealt with his situation, I wanted to cry but I held back. I held back my emotions because I needed to be strong for my friend. However, by the time I was riding the subway heading toward Brooklyn, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I allowed myself to cry and while it wasn’t the best location to have this moment with a packed L train filled with hipsters. I didn’t care. Plus, I needed to get my emotions out of the way since I was on my way to babysit another friend of mines son. When I arrived, the boy was happy to see me and greeted me with a hug and kiss. As I held him, all I could think was how this young baby is just starting his story and I know his story will be a good one.
The next evening, I went over to my friend’s apartment in Chelsea where we talked over the additional things we will need to do for our friend while he is away for the funeral. We ordered in food, talked, drank and watched a movie to keep our minds occupied from being sad. I left my friend’s apartment took the subway, on the subway I felt my stomach cramping and wasn’t sure what was going on. I thought that it was just stress and went to bed.
On Wednesday morning, I wasn’t feeling like myself and again, I just chalked it up to my emotions. I went to work and as I sat at my desk typing, I suddenly became nauseous and then it happened…I threw up in the bathroom. I left work and went home where I proceeded to get sick every hour on the hour. It lasted all through the night and into the next day. I ended up calling out sick on Thursday and decided to listen to my body and not push myself too hard. I didn’t tell anyone that I was sick because we already had enough going on with our friend that we didn’t need any more drama in our circle.
Thankfully, by the time Friday rolled around I was back to myself(ish). I went to work and didn’t push myself too hard at the gym that evening. I went home with the intention of possibly going out but realized that since I didn’t have any solid plans that I should stay inside, save some money and give my body one more day of recovery.
Saturday and the rain was beating down on the window. It was going to be one of those gloomy, gray and rainy days in the city. However, after being cooped up in my apartment for what felt like an eternity; I needed to get out no matter what the weather elements were. I went to the gym followed by some shopping in the Village. I came home and took a much needed disco nap because that evening I was meeting a few friends for a long overdue “Single Ladies” night out on the town. The plan was to pre-game at my friend’s apartment in Chelsea and then we would decide where to go from there.
Drinks were poured, music was on in the background and our pre-gaming had commenced. As we sat there talking about our usual topics that ranged from sex to work back to sex then onto friends and of course ending with sex; we were already feeling kind of tipsy by the time we all decided to head out to the bars. When we walked outside that rain was coming down hardcore. We decided to first go to the bar, XES, since it was the closest bar and we didn’t want to walk too far in the nasty weather. As we were approaching the bar, I noticed a tall guy standing outside the bar smoking a cigarette. FUCK! It was the guy that two weeks ago simply disappeared and I never heard from again. With the rain coming down, me being slightly tipsy and not really sure what to do; we decided to pass them and walk into the bar. As we were handing our ID’s to the bouncer, I decided that I didn’t want to be in that environment. Knowing that he was going to be there, I just didn’t want to deal with the drama. I told my friends about the fact that he was there and within seconds, we left the bar and they were understanding about it all. My friend said, “You have two minutes to process this and then move on.” It made me laugh because he knew me so well but I was proud that I didn’t even need the two minutes to process. I am over it. I am over him and over the entire situation. His story is certainly one that has ended.
Our next and final stop on the “Single Ladies” tour was to, Barracuda. Despite the nasty weather, it was crowded and it was crowded with very attractive people. Not more than two minutes of being there, we ran into a couple of friends of ours and everyone was having a great time. I even managed to steal an umbrella (a little thing I do. I know it’s wrong but I can’t help it). Time flew by rather quickly because before I knew it, it was past 3 a.m. and we had already lost one of our “Single Ladies”. The rain was still coming down and I decided that I wanted to take the subway in order to sober up a little bit. I said goodbye to my friend and jumped on the C train heading uptown. I went to bed that night, of course drunk but also very grateful for the amazing people in my life.
A very slow start to Sunday but that was ok because it was still gloomy outside and I didn’t have anything to do other than to be lazy. As the text messages began to roll in about the night before, I drank my coffee and read the paper. After the morning coffee, I decided it would be a good idea to hit the gym and sweat out my previous night. After the sweaty session, I went to my local fruit stand to pick up some things for the week. Thankfully, the rain had finally stopped but of course, the city was still one big mess. I paid for my groceries and began my walk back to my apartment.
As I was walking up Eighth Avenue, I was swinging my bag of groceries and enjoying the music that was blasting in my ears when it happened. What, I assume, everyone dreads in the city. That is, I fell into a massive puddle!!! Blueberries, blackberries, strawberries, bananas and my Peach Snapple were all floating around in the puddle with me. I must have made a very loud noise when I hit the ground because before I knew it, there were three people helping me out of the puddle and collecting the floating fruit. My fruit stand guy rushed over and gave me another bag and everyone was asking if I was ok. I was drenched and there was nothing I could do. This very kind man picked me up and all he could say was, “I saw the entire thing go down. You fell hard. You sure you are ok?” It’s a very humbling experience when you walk back to your apartment drenched in disgusting puddle muck while everyone looks at you. After two hot showers, I finally put my puddle experience behind me and vowed not to leave my apartment for the remainder of the evening.
We are certainly the writers of our own life stories. We may not be able to control every situation that happens to us but it’s how we deal and cope with the situations that will guide us into the next chapters in our story. One of the most important things to know is that while our stories may not always be like a fairytale we should never put an ending to our story.
I dedicate this entry to my great, wonderful, kind, generous and amazing friend.
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