Am having a spot of bother forcing my halo on over my horns as well
... I truly want
to be saintly and non-intrusive. And I have to stop this vague feeling of sadness as well.
Can I admit something? I'm kind of surprised and frankly embarrassed
at how the news of Bret's wedding and impending fatherhood has affected me over the last couple of days. I've been feeling kind of bruised and emotionally fraught and unable to figure out exactly why. I think it's complicated, and essentially has very little to do with my lovely weedy shy guy, who I wish only good and gentle and happy things for.
But does anyone else ever go through odd moments when it seems like everyone around them is settling down and making families and buying houses and generally making a place for themselves in the world? I'm 27, and it feels like all of my friends are getting married these days, and I can't even begin to figure out how that makes me feel. I mean, I don't need
to be married. I've never
thought of that as a prerequisite for a wonderful, joyful life. And I desperately, desperately don't want to be stuck with someone I don't love: I think the loneliest a person can be is lying in bed, staring at the back of their spouse's head in the dark, wondering how long they can go on pretending to the world that everything is fine.
But. There are moments when I feel that bitter, shameful flash of jealousy when I hear about people, like Bret, finding and marrying their partners in life. Finding the person who adores them even when they're cranky and unshowered and petulant and unreasonable, the person who holds tightly to their sweaty hand through the tough stuff, the person who loves them and believes in them even when they don't love or believe in themselves. And I have faith that these things are possible for me, but some days it's hard to hold on to that idea, you know?
It's bizarre and embarrassing to me that this current spate of tortured self-pity has been triggered by the marriage and parenthood of someone I don't even know
. I mean, for Christ's sake, I'm a grown-up
. I suppose it's just that, in a funny way, I feel like Bret and Jemaine are friends of mine, in that cheery imaginary way that happens when you spend time in the laughing company of people you haven't actually ever met. It's weird, it's totally weird, I get that. But just like I sobbed my little heart out as a kid when Bambi's mother was shot, it feels strangely real to me. It's as if everyone in my world is all twitterpated and shiningly in love - even my IMAGINARY FRIENDS.
Nevermind. Poor old Turnip will find a nice carrot to love her one day. Or she'll find something else wonderful, and that'll be great. But right now, it's just me and this toblerone bar, and a lovesick lament on my ukulele. Who wants to come over and pour the wine?