This xkcd makes me worry. How the hell does this work? I’d very much appreciate a manual on what to expect, so that I don’t keep getting it wrong.
Every time I see a wedding [and I’ve reached the age where most weddings I come across are those of my peer group], my mind churns with thoughts of the many thousands of weddings that have taken place where the couple seem so happy, so perfect, so sure, only to disintegrate in various ways. Or just implode quietly and keep going. What a way to spend a life.
I think there are choirs this time around, lots of spark and laughter. But… Perhaps I expected my soul to feel bound [in a positive way]. The stuff that poets write about. Misery and torment and passion. I don’t even know if I’m restless or not.
