time

i'm 35. i still recall years ago when someone told me "people still alone in their thirties are broken." i've written about it previously, and i revisit this thought once in a while. mostly because i'm trying to see as time goes up and the years pile on if there is any validity to it.

i think being broken is a choice. at least for me it's a choice. i can wallow, or i can do. i wallow here with these words. a lot. it's a dumping ground. a place to bury frustrations, sadness, hopelessness. it has to go somewhere. it cannot stay inside me.

yes i am alone. i've been alone for years. i date, things work out, then they don't, then i go back to being me again. i like me, i'm comfortable this way. people come and go. a lot of people have left, good friends are gone. i work to keep the few that remain near, i work to meet new people. what are these relationships - what do they mean to me, what do they mean to them? i see new families forming, marriages and babies, houses and gardens. i don't quite fit in these families, but i appreciate the role of the crazy aunt that comes round once in a while. i often think about what family and home means to me, and how i will come to define that.

i wonder when things will change. at what age will the party end? if people will drift further, if the silence will get louder. what will i say or do to fill the voids as things shift. who and what comes next. i will build, and draw, and maybe be hugged occasionally. i might need to ask for those hugs. i think that's about all i can predict right now. there is more time left. a lot of opportunity and a lot of fear. here's to the rest of my thirties. cheers.