Oh dear Internet Blog, how are you? I’m doing well. I had an interesting discovery about 3 1/2 weeks ago that I’m hesitating to share, because I really don’t want to disrespect my boyfriend. He’s amazing. So this was very, very hard to write. This blog, though, is made for me to vent my feelings, and since I’ve ignored you so, I feel it’s time to open up. That’s what this blog is all about, right? Right. So here we go.
One of my ex boyfriends is engaged. Engaged to be married, not for battle. Just thought I’d clarify.
Let me make this clear: I am not upset that I am not engaged to him. I have an amazingly wonderful boyfriend whom I wouldn’t exchange for anyone else. Except for maybe Paul McCartney, but he knows that, and he’s okay with that. So this isn’t about that.
What it’s about, is realizing that I have now reached an age where ex boyfriends are getting engaged, and that’s scary as hell. I’m not ready for this. Note: this is the same ex I wrote about here and here (oh, and wrote about him in my book, which you can get here. Did you think I was above self-promotion, even in deepest honesty?). It seems like so long ago, and I guess it is, and I should be okay with that. Except for I resist the march of time. I can’t help but resist it.
This ex is even younger than I am (by three years, which can be a lot when you’re in your twenties. On our first date, he couldn’t legally order an alcoholic drink. That’s how much.) He’s younger, and yet, by getting engaged, he makes it appears as though he has his shit together. Having your shit together is something we all strive to do. Getting married appears to be a sign of having your shit together. No mind if your shit is as unassembled as an Ikea dining room table; it’s appearances that matter.
Because I know and realize that getting married does not automatically = having your shit together. Anyone can get married. It’s not like it’s hard to get married. What’s hard is having a good, solid marriage. That’s the real thing. And I know that, I do.
But, I can’t help but hear this news and reflect on my own life. Cue The Beatles ~~**”In My Life”**~~
No, but seriously, what in the everloving fuck am I doing with my life? Yeah, some things are good. I’ve got my health, a house, a great roommate (I’ve moved since I last updated, I had to move twice in 1 year, but I figured that shit out I did), and lots of freelance work. And, a fabulous boyfriend.
But what I don’t have, is a solid career. I want to get into TV writing, and I’m working on it, but holy shit, it’s a long and daunting road. That’s like “The Long And Winding Road”, but with more honesty. “The long and daunting road/that leads me/to your floor/because I am so drunk/wait where am I/don’t leave me lying here/barfing on your flooooooooor.” And I’m trying to get there — “I’m trying to be the shepherd, Ringo” — but goddamn, it’s hard. And I realize it’s hard; it’s supposed to be hard.
Getting older is hard for some people. Hard and weird. (That’s what she said? Sorry.) And apparently, it doesn’t get any easier. My friend told me, “Things get even weirder in your mid thirties. Two of my best friends just got married for the second time. Also, I’m still not over my ex having a baby, which could be why I’ve spent the past month sleeping with a sleazy investment banker dude who more or less is a decent person but still pretty sleazy.”
So what’s the point of it all? Well, that’s a little too deep for this blog. I’ve always said, the meaning of life is to live. So, like Mr. McCartney, I’m going to live and let die. And I wish the absolute best to my ex.
Have you reached the life milestone where an ex gets engaged? How did you feel?