I just realised, while scrolling through old WhatsApp messages on a sleepless stressed out night, that when the whole family was down last month, there were a few people who checked in on us nearly every day. Some were from work, for which I'm grateful, but a couple were just friends who have been around forever. I've been so lucky in my friends that I'm not surprised my luck didn't hold out in long-term full-time relationships. This should be v sad, but I just find it funny.
I'm going to be 40 in a couple of years. And I can't do relationships any more. I love the people that I love to bits, but I don't think I can live with someone else ever again. This should be a terrifying thought, but it's actually a relief.
Sometimes I think that had I known this when I was 20, I wouldn't have been in such a hurry to settle down with a happily ever after. But then I figure that this state of acceptance is actually the outcome of having been in a relationship that was intensely fulfilling and then turned absolutely toxic. And if I hadn't ever married or had kids, I would have had a great deal of regret. So whatever happened, happened for the best.
On the general principle of no regrets, therefore, I'm kind of pleased with life at the moment. And it's indescribably pleasant to reach out on a difficult kind of day to a friend who will lend a shoulder without the burden of expectations. It's hard to tell what the future will be, but if I can grow old in friendship, then life would indeed be perfect. Here's hoping the best is yet to be.
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