As the big 4-0 draws ever closer I'm getting more pensive by the minute. It sounds naff but it's true.
What's struck me most of late is how all of life is about change. How nothing stays the same. We're always so busy rushing about we forget to realise "this too will pass".
I'm trying to embrace it. We're rolling on, living it, sort of enjoying it and not arguing much anymore. But we still don't talk about it.
"There's nothing to say," he says. It fires me up, but what's the use?
So things are calm. We work well as flatmates. He is a good dad to Rosie and I'm so afraid of breaking that up. The only area I feel I am lacking is in his continued silence over the 2nd baby.
Three years it's been going on. Maybe one day I'll hit 46 and WAKE UP to the fact nothing has changed in our world, yet all around me it has. It'll be too late by then.
What to do, what to do?
