Conversations

She:
I'm at a strange place. Constantly thinking. Introspecting.

Her:
About?

She:
Mostly me.

Her:
Aha. The 30's. Me, My self. Who I was, what I set out to be, what I have become.

She:
Who gets me? Who doesn't? How much I have given to another, and in doing so, what I have lost? Was it worth it? Is it worth it? Am I happy? Am I me?


Her:
I know. Me too. It's a 30's thing, I think. I feel this constant questioning in me, this quest for answers for questions, mostly about my self.

She:
It's like the other day when I was talking to him and I suddenly realised that he doesn't get me...after 18 years of being together. And yet , talking to you over the past hour, I think you do.

Her:
That, my dear, is a woman thing.

She:
And yet, he is meant to be my soulmate.

Her:
Or maybe not. It's what you percieved him to be. What he is stereotyped to be.

She:
So?

Her:
So what? He is what he is to you. But he cannot be all that. Make your peace.

She:
I think about my 20's. About being 20. I was like a leaf blowing in the wind. Happy to go where they took me . Excited to be where I landed. Go with the flow. Explore, experiment. It was all about movement. Change houses, move cities, countries, even. The newness was exciting. Everything was a challenge and challenge felt good.

Her:
And now, it's tiring.

She:
And friends. Everyone was a friend. Hang out with whoever I met. Social circles. The more , the merrier.
And now I am just weeding everyone out.

Her:
I understand. I also relate.

She:
And so, here I am , been there, done that and at the end of it, all I want is to belong. All I want is stability. I resist change.

I need roots. I want to trace back my steps. Back to my island.

A cosy home, a fire going, wine, music. A few friends. Good friends. Quality, not quantity. People I really want to know, not just hang out with.
Food being cooked, music playing, conversations, laughter, a herb garden, sitting out in the sun, reading. Simple stuff. Real stuff. No glam,no glitter, no fluff.

Her:
I get that. Completely.

She:
Is it just us? Is it age? Is it depression? It feels like the end?

Her:
It's us. And some more. Not everyone, though.

It's age. And the wisdom that comes with it.

It's definitely not depression. In fact, it's therapy.

And no, my dear, this is not the end. It's just the beginning.

What can I say? Welcome to the club.