Picking through a relationship's ruins

"Here's what I have learned about men," I began to tell my friend. (Picture me with a long beard, sitting Indian-style at the top of a mountain in Tibet, if it helps.) I said that when it comes to love and sex, all bets are off. You think you are a good judge of character, and you might very well be, but if you are romantically involved with someone, you can't help but be naive. A guy could indeed be a great person in his dealings with everyone else, but if he decides that you aren't it, he will turn into Mr. Spock on a dime. The same guy who held you close and noticed the way your left dimple dances when you laugh is the dude who will coldly answer your phone call with monosyllabic retorts, leaving you saying to yourself, "I just don't get it." The trick is to remember who you are and who you were before you ever met him, and not become the person that you think he sees now ... an unlovable loser.

I told her how great she is, how smart and pretty she is, and reminded her that she loves to dance ... slowly I tried to chip away at her ashy despair cocoon. She is in fact rather plucky, and she said, "You know what? I am beautiful!"

"Yes, you are!" I rejoined gaily.

"And he's an idiot not to want me!"

"He is indeed an idiot!" I chimed in. She needed to carry on, pull herself out of the ruins of her relationship, and move on. I knew her feelings of strength would be temporary; no one gets over this stuff overnight. But for now, I felt better that she felt better. We made a toast, two women sitting alone at a bar, frozen in time.