I've been trying to write a bloody blog for 3 days now. It's not that I haven't had any topics up for discussion, either. Really, it's just the thought of summoning enough effort to organize my thoughts, that has me doing a lot more reading and actually answering email, than anything else.
My crush is getting married.
And not to me. Which is all fine, and cool, and whatever positive word you can summon up yourself. He's a sweetheart of a guy, and I'm sure she's a doll of a girl, and while I am extremely happy to see that he's happy, I'm also unhappy for me. A bit envious, I guess.
We went out and had a pint last night, and he told me how surprised he was when he proposed to her. He admitted to having been in love with lots of girls, but never had a moment where he realized that he wanted that girl right in front of him. I think what he said was that he pictured her at fifty, and realizing that he's never done that, thought about a girl in that way before. When he pictured her then, he knew she was the one for him. That's lovely, I thought last night. And now? It's still lovely, because I can't help but think about how he looked when he talked about their future, and couldn't help but notice how much he wanted to continue talking on and on about her. I think he was surprised that I even asked, but he also seemed really pleased that I actually listened.
I'm glad that I did, too.