A lot of relationships are defined by "befores" and "afters."
And so it is with me and D, one of those people in this world that just gets me, in all my OMG-I-ate-too-many-brownies-I'm-going-to-throw-up glory. And I get her, and I understand how she can watch a Dr. Phil about morbidly obese people and sadly observe "These people have no self-control" while shoving Entenmann's cookies in her mouth.
But was that before?
Before her fiance got cancer? Before I got pregnant?
Those two events coalesced into an axis of estrangement that neither of us could really break through. My heart was breaking for her, and I just couldn't talk to her about the baby.
I know it was the wrong thing to do. Evil, even. But how could I be joyful about anything while she was in the midst of such pain?
So, I did what came easily. I avoided talking about myself, and eventually we both got so deeply involved in our stories that we drifted apart.
But now it's after.
Yesterday, we finally spilled our guts to each other and suddenly we're right back in law school IM'ing each other into laughing fits that get us dirty looks from our peers.
It's a good thing.