Ilkley, United Kingdom
On the eve of my departure, Blondey invited us to a party at his house, actually his out-of-town-Grandmothers house. It’s strange to have been in town for such a short time and to already know everyone here. It was a fairly small gathering confined to the kitchen which didn’t leave a lot of buffer when personalities clashed – primarily mine and all the little, over-priveleged upstarts (I exclude both Diane and Blondey from that count).
One girl in particular, who admittedly was very attractive but nowhere near as gorgeous as she declared herself to be, held court on the rules of dating. She raised my hackles immediately but when she went into greater depth about her theory that a guy should always be a couple of points less attractive than her so that he’s too insecure to leave, I kinda wanted to fly out of my seat and pummel her pretty face. The worst thing was she then went on to tell us how people always assume she’s stupid because she’s so good looking. I could barely contain the urge to tell her that it was actually because of the things she said and believes to be true but feared she wouldn’t understand the big and colourful words I would have used to express it.
Luckily, a decision was made to move the gathering down to the The Grove where I could reposition myself down the deeper end of the table. As nights in Ilkley go, this wasn’t as big as others we’d had and we were home at a respectable time in a respectable state so I was able to get up in the morning, pack my bag and bid another teary adieu.
This time with Diane has put me in mind of the twin masks of comedy and tragedy which not only represent the creative arts that bought us together, but also the inextricable link between joy and despair inherent in the human condition.
This friendship founded on laughs and good times was this week transformed by the shared grief and sorrow of our circumstances. Although I have perhaps painted a happy-go-lucky picture of this time, between the lines has been an intense outpouring and support of each other in a way that was never relevant or necessary before. I leave knowing that we are better for it.
At any rate, they say that comedy = tragedy + time so perhaps our best work is yet to come!