I remember meeting Irony in a summer two years ago. She was an average girl; pretty tall, beautiful hair, pretty insecure. I recall that time I was wearing a formal suit, wanderig, lost and alone under the heat trapped in my thick suit. The day I forgot my wallet and had to buy food from the spare change in my pockets. Saw her wandering alone too, and recognized her from a time we sat with our mutual friends. She walked with me, I offered her the only cupcake I had and watched her happily take it and throw it in her handbag carelessly, my Arab upbringing concerning hospitality prevented me from taking the unwanted yet precious cupcake back. I remember walking in the sun together, chatting and babbling and getting to know each other. I was hesitant to give her my number for I thought that we wouldn’t quite click, yet I wasn’t rude and gave it to her.
And that is how Irony started doing what it does best.
Every time she would talk to me, I would reply late, answer briefly, making sure not to allow for a conversation to develop; however, Irony has ways to make tables turn and before I even knew it, I found myself actually enjoying those little conversations, contributing more and more to develop this kindling friendship. Things started to develop even with the 10 hour time difference. We managed to somehow stay up as late as possible to talk about the randomest stuff. She was there with me when things were going from bad to worse. She was there when I started going through the difficult stage where I would dip cookies in vodka and drink sake till my throat would burn. Irony found a way to break all possible barriers to sneak her way into my heart; and when she got there, I opened up to her. Confessions started to pour left and right, starting from small ones and gradually go to scandals that would ruin my life.
Yes, it was that very busy day when we decided to play 20 questions, and everybody knows what kid of questions teens ask when it comes to that game. I remember coming out to her, and how she said she liked me and how every guy she likes is gay. We both laughed off and started talking regardless of how extremely busy I was. I set my priorities straight.
And that was when Irony struck me.
Our chats continued on their normal pace, disregarding that there was almost no more time difference anymore. Those days when we planned to meet once again. The days when I told you about the perfect guy every single person I knew had a crush on.
Those were days things changed.
I began wondering if I did something wrong for you would answer late or not answer at all. Your answers became briefer and briefer until you would totally ignore me. I pondered about how karma is really a bitch, what has been done to you returned to me, what went around came back around. But this time it had been different, an amazing friendship was jeopardized.
What happened to the days we would discuss our childhood, our school’s infamous secrets, talk about our hot mutual friends, the Kama sutra sushi rolls, the time we caught the drunk women urinating in public, and most importantly, those endless talks where we would pour our hearts out.
I guess only Irony would know…

P.S: happy belated birthday…


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