Roxilla

Sometimes, being tough is a bitch. Being a drama queen too. Being both, often together, is quite another ball game altogether however – it’s no wonder that people tend to assume I’m either a) fine or b) stressing over nothing. Often, they are right… maybe I worry too much, and maybe I’m stronger than I think I am at the end of the day.

But there are times that I occasionally wish that I was the fragile soft type who people worried about and hugged. The type who could come out and say I needed help, or say that I’m not coping. The type that warranted big gestures and romantic plots, and maybe flowers too sometimes. The type who didn’t have to feel embarrassed or guilty for wanting support, or feel prickly when someone eventually does try and offer some. You know, that type. Much as I want to be that type, I’m the no settling, prickly, drama prone tough guy type. And quite honestly, that kinda sucks at times.

That saying about smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone is kinda true though – Cape Town especially is very much a fair weather friend, there with full smiles and fun during the good times, and mysteriously cold shouldered during the shitty times. You only need to be on Long Street a few weeks after the World Cup to see how true that is even the most literal of senses.

So I guess all we can really do is roll with the punches, enjoy those good times and have another Patron and make those moments last… and when the bad times creep in, you remember why you are that tough guy. You remember how much worse things have been, and how you’ve gotten past those times too. You don’t need your hand held, or a pity party. Lord knows you throw the best ones yourself anyway. You put on your big girl panties, and you man the fuck up and you look at your tattoos to remind yourself that you are not just tough, you are hardcore. And then you pour yourself a glass of wine, and cheer up.

You know, now that I really think about it, it’s not so bad being the tough type.