Weddings always hit me in the weirdest way possible. I sat there with about 40 others for a small tight knit wedding on the beaches of Punta Cana, Dominican Republic watching as two of my closest friends openly declared their devotion to one another. Forever. The bride couldn’t look happier while the groom teared up. I admit, I did too. I wasn’t sure why though. And as I reflect right now, I still can’t really tell why I was crying. Was it because I was just so happy for my two dear friends? Or was it because I knew it would never be me up there professing my love to a partner in life? Most likely a sad cocktail of both.
The number of weddings I’ve been attending have been dwindling down. It started off as maybe one wedding in 2005, then a couple more in 2006, and then averaging anywhere between 4 – 7 weddings a year up until this year. This year it will be down to 3. The weddings are slowly being replaced with baby showers. I’m still me, still here, while I’m watching my friends progress the way that I just can’t seem to. What’s worse, is I think my fears and paranoia has subconsciously manifested themselves into more fear and paranoia around dating younger. I want to date someone older. Someone who’s feeling the same tick tock tick tock that I am. I tell myself I want to date someone older because they’re likely to be in a closer career and mental state as me; but I think truth be told, that half-truth is laced with the other half of my own fear of having someone younger, hotter, and smarter leave me partway through a dismal relationship.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.