Strange

It's a strange feeling. Catching up with friends from a lifetime ago. I've been putting it off. Have been back for a month already. Finally caught up with 2 high school friends. Met at one of the gal's apartment, though really, she's a mother now and deserves more than gal. Anyway…

She's the mother of a 1 1/2 year old boy. The other gal, mother of a 1 1/4 year old boy and 5 months pregnant, turned up a little later, huge bag and domestic help in tow. The reason I'm so exact with the ages of the the babies, instead of merely branding them as "babies", is that, I have learned, over the course of the afternoon, that details like this are so important in the life of a mother.

So we sat around, chatted, snacked and watched the babies totter, play and fall. It was a pleasant and enjoyable afternoon, for sure.

Left me with mixed feelings. On one hand, the feeling of having missed out on something all these years that I've been away. On the other hand, the feeling of having been spared the mundane.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think their lives are boring, nor do they, for that matter of fact. Their boys are their joy. Yet, with a gentle pat to my knee, one gal advised me to enjoy my freedom.

I am strangely content with my life. Though that nagging feeling of having missed out is still there, I refrained from rushing out in my prettiest dress and handing out name cards to seemingly available men. Or neoprints, as one friend advised. (Eeks…!)

A few days later, in a random moment of revelation, I realised that what I felt I was missing out on was not specific objects (for want of a better word) such as husband, babies and career, but change.

I remember looking around at the gal's apartment and thinking how it looks so homely and lived in compared to the spanking newness and sparkling brightness of when they first got married. And seeing how my friends, friends I grew up with, have moved on in their lives. Marriage, apartments, babies, cars, domestic help – all strange new territory to me, yet so much a part of their lives.

After having been away for 4 1/2 years, I've come home to my parents' apartment, to the same room I've had, the same life. It's strange. The only visible difference is the graduation mugshot my parents made me buy and put up in the room for me. Strangely, my graduation gown is almost exactly like the one I wore for my PAP kindergarten assembly-line-fake-scenic-background photo. Hmm…

After all that's said, I am content with my life. It's all good.