Maybe Things Happen For A Reason

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It was another night at the bar, another slow night, where we did what we had to do, and finished early. I did my sidework, cleaning glasses and wiping down the counter. I counted my tips which were meager, but considering it was a slow night a few days before Christmas, I was happy to have the extra money.

I checked the time, and it was half past one in the morning. I had another thirty minutes to possibly go to another bar, and see old friends.

I thought about two friends I didn't see in a long time, Brendan and Claire. In my years, my early years, these were two old friends that I had stories that have been lost over time and many a drink to the point that even trying to write about it now would be a futile effort. Suffice to say they were very good friends that were sadly lost to the rift that developed when the story of Tori and Jim ended.

Jim and I ran into each other a few weeks back. We talked. Said things that should have been said long ago. We knew things could never be the same again, but also accepted that we should move past what happened. I knew in my heart that it was a simple issue, really.

Every relationship is based on trust. I don't care if it's your family or your wife or your boyfriend or your dog walker. Trust is the foundation to everything. Once that trust is lost, well, its like a cracked foundation. Sure, you can repair the foundation, but that crack is still there.

As much as Jim and I said our words, tried to move past what happened, that crack - the rift - is still there. I will never really feel comfortable again unless he and I rebuilt our friendship. For now, we are cordial, and there's no anonymisty between us at all. If anything its the people that surround us that make this more of an issue than we feel ourselves.

With that being said, I thought about going to the local pub to see if Brendan and Clare were there. Even with Jim bartending I figured we patched things up and it would be ok...but I decided against going there and went down to Moran's.

On my way walking there, I see a gang of seven people walking towards me on Garden Street. I hear someone bellow, "Sean!!!!"

Lo and behold it is Brendan himself. Along with him is Claire, Muhammad and a few of their friends. I'm surprised, and happy to see them. They were at Moran's and were headed to the local pub. They grabbed me by the arm, spun me around and led me back to Washington Street, insisting to join them for a pint.

We get to the old local pub and it being a slow night, they called their last call. We turned around, went to Moran's and had a drink there.

We ordered a round, and settled into Moran's, which had a lively crowd for a night that was slow at other pubs. Brendan and I make some small talk, asking about our jobs and what-not when he says, "Where have you been? You don't lump me into that whole Jim situation, do you? He's my best friend, but I still think you are great, I hope you don't think that I never liked you. I always did, you are one of the funniest people I know."

It's funny how complicated things can get in Hoboken.

Jim and Brendan were best friends. Before Jim and I had our "rift" with Tori, it used to be that on any given night that Brendan, Claire and other "regulars" at the local pub would spend hours together every Thursday, Friday or Saturday. It all fell apart, and the local pub that I once considered myself welcome became a place that i'd avoid to keep the status quo amiciable.

After talking to Brendan and Claire for a bit, and realizing that it has been far too long that we have been away from each other, we wrote down phone numbers and said that we should go out sometime with each other.

Maybe it was the Christmas spirit....or some other spirits...but I felt good that night. It felt good that I just happened to run into them on the street on the same night that I was thinking about going to the local pub to see them. Maybe things happen for a reason, sometimes.

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This page contains a single entry by Furey published on December 23, 2007 3:02 AM.

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