Disclaimer: It wasn’t really a mountain; it was more like a steep hill. But it was definitely just the two of us.
This weekend, I went on a trip with my friend, my friend’s boyfriend, and several of his high school friends. The weekend included eating, drinking, gambling, shopping, and skiing. Though I participated in every activity listed (because you know I love to eat, drink, gamble, and shop), it was the promise of skiing that convinced me to pack my bags... even if it was fake snow. It’s been about three years since I last skied and I consider myself to be quite the rock star when it comes to Midwestern skiing.
It turned out that I was one of seven people who decided to ski… and the only one who was not one half of a couple. After a few runs as a group, we eventually lost each other. I decided to continue on and ski alone, as destiny intended.
It was dark and cold and as I sat alone on the ski lift above the mountain, I daydreamed about moving out west to a place where there are real mountains and real snow, like Tahoe or Aspen. I know it sounds a bit sad and lonely, but it was peaceful to be by myself, just thinking. Then I wondered, as I was slowly being dragged up the hill, who would I want to share this moment with (boy-wise… you know what I’m saying)? I was stumped. I had no answer for myself.
Complete the following sentence:
This moment would be so much more wonderful if I was sharing it with [Blank].
That’s my answer… BLANK. Or maybe there was no answer. Maybe it was just perfect the way it was.