I've never really been able to define irony, I'm not sure it is definable? But these are my ironies since I last wrote.
I did the run. Slow & steady, felt amazing, very proud. Until I went for a massage later on that day & the massage lady said 'Oh! You pregnant?!'.
Some satisfaction gained from answering 'No, just fat'. But not enough.
An awkward moment last night when we met some friends at a kid friendly pub. Had a lovely evening, ran into several people I hadn't seen in ages. Including a girl I once pashed at 3 am one late 90's night. She has grown her once shaved head out to a discreet bob & has a male partner & child in tow and of course there is me, suzy homemaker with my tribe of love. We made a bit of small talk but essentially it was super awkward. Good to have been young once.
Finally, no irony here, just a bit too much red wine and a heavy heart. Donno is too sick. He will die. Soon. My heart, my head, my eyes hurt to know it. This familiar journey, wanting someone you love to be out of pain but knowing what the other side holds. A big old empty space where he should be. A life, a family, so many occasions that he should be in. It is shit. A thrumming of pain, worry, nervous energy. Oh to have the chance to tell him how much he means to me, to us. I'm so scared of how hard it's going to be to miss him.