Girl and City

MFL and I are like Carrie and Mr. Big¹, Rachel and Ross², Sydney and Vaughan³.
Except in all those cases, the two end up together. So maybe not such great examples.

The point is, it feels like the time we’ve known and spent with each other could be a lifetime in itself. Sometimes I think about the time when we were together and I am almost surprised that it’s my past. It feels like it happened in a past-life, or in a vivid dream, or in a story I read in a book somewhere.

Everything has changed now. But some things never change.

And therein lies the problem.

Putting aside the question of whether we might still love each other, we certainly care about each other. And when a man cares about a woman, or vice versa, things are no longer cut and dry.
Which begs the question, can men and women truly just be friends? In fact, a better question is, can exes truly just be friends?
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1. Sex and the City. [↩]
2. Friends. [↩]
3. Alias. [↩]

“I don’t know what it is, I just can’t handle MACs,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air for emphasis.
“That’s because you’re so familiar with PCs. MACs are actually more user-friendly. They’re more intuitive,” OBF said, facing her screen as she clicked away.
“That’s what I’ve heard, but to me, they’re completely counter intuitive!”
“You just have to pretend you don’t know how to use a PC. Then it’ll be much easier for you to learn how to use a MAC.”

We were sitting in OBF‘s room, which hadn’t changed one bit from the last time I’d been in here, some time during high school. It was the epitome of a girl’s room, with a cream-coloured four-pillared bed and matching dresser, Lindsey Lohan magazine cutouts on the closet door, and the full collection of Babysitter’s Club on her bookshelf. I cringed.
This was one of the differences between OBF and I. While she grew up in all this girliness, I did not adopt any girlish fancies until I turned 18. That was the year I stopped boycotting lace, dresses, and the colour pink. Needless to say, I missed the age of Babysitter’s Club entirely.

OBF had called me out that morning at 7:30am, informing me that she had broken up with her boyfriend of three years. I should have been more alarmed – and I was sufficiently surprised considering two days ago she had been telling me about their wedding plans – but the truth is, I was sure they were going to get back together. Those two were made for each other. So I drove out to her part of The City and met her for brunch. She explained the premise of their break-up in between sobs and massive amounts of napkins while I chewed on a piece of a toast.
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