This feels like a strangely okay place to post this. Like the people who might take it wrong will never find it.
There's some babies coming up in my family. It's a good thing. For people who deserve them and will be wonderful parents. Found out unexpectedly, and was overjoyed for them, and very proud that they were making the next steps in their lives.
But driving home after dinner, late on a Monday night, I found myself feeling unexpectedly and unjustifiably lonely.
Not because I'm not starting a family. I'm good with that. I'm better than good with that. I run three businesses. I'm too busy. I'm not in a good place. I may never been in a good place. And I know that I don't want to have a family if I'm not in a good place. Maybe if I sold a million copies of my book or something I might be in the right place, but the way life is now, and the way life seems to be headed... I'm better off on my own. It's okay.
But I do, on occasion, wonder if there actually is something a little off with me that I *am* okay with it.
I suppose it all just made me a bit lonely. Or maybe I just know I'll always find a reason to think it's not the right time. If I sold a million copies of the book I'd probably say I couldn't have a family because I was on the road all the time or something. Excuses excuses.
Or I suppose I know there was a window of time when I was ready and I watched it melt away. In another world, I'd have a sprog or two I'd be raising in Dublin right now. I forget that sometimes. That I was pretty close to an ordinary life in an extraordinary place, far away from everything I'd left behind here. Maybe that's really what's bothering me. I traded that life for another, with no way to change my mind.
