Last night was fun. Always good to catch up with friends from university. We laughed a lot. I had just a couple of moments when I really struggled to hold it together.
All three of the friends I was with have got married this year. One of them is pregnant. The other two will follow soon, I’m sure.
So, it’s inevitable that there’s a lot of wedding and baby chat. I don’t mind. It’s not boring. None of them turned into bridezillas. I’m genuinely happy for them.
But it does seem unfair. Especially when I thought I had finally met my person. When I thought everything was falling into place for me. At last.
And when they ask me about work, because they don’t know what else to ask me about, I can’t help but feel the lump in my throat. I talk a little too much about not knowing whether I want to stay in marketing. I sound a little too scattered when I mention travelling, or going freelance, or trying something new. I look a little too sad when I laugh about how I have nobody to look after but myself.
What I mean is that I have nobody to look after me. That I’m searching for something – anything – to make me happy. And my future scares me because I really don’t want to go through it alone.
Last night we were also talking about parties. I said if I’m still not married when I turn 40 I’m going to throw myself a massive party. We discussed how I should get a completely over-the-top dress, and hold it at a fancy hotel, and have a gift list in Topshop. It sounded fantastic.
Then I went to the bathroom, and cried.
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