This can’t be it, right?

I’m a 28 year old woman having what some would consider, a quarter life (give or take a couple of years) crisis. Consumed with the idea of there has to be more to life than this. More than the mundane 9-5 I’m destined to carry out until I’m wheeled into a home, more than the home life that seems to be getting lonelier by the day and more like the stories I read of romances that sweep a woman off her feet or show her what life could really be like. I’m aware of how ridiculous that sounds, but feeling so down recently has lead to an obscene amount of reading, romances mainly as I need the happy endings so I can live through those characters and feel something. But it leaves the real world feeling bleak in comparison.

I’m trapped in an endless cycle of petty arguments, feeling unheard and wanting so much to have what the stories I read express love to be and knowing we can’t all have the fantasy. I should be grateful, we have a nice home, decently paid jobs so rarely worry financially anymore and we have good health, so why do I feel so empty? I have this gnawing fear that overwhelms me, that this is it now. This is all there is to life. I wake and go to work for a role I despise just because it pays better to benefit us, thinking to myself that for the next 35+ years, I will do this same routine day in day out except for the few weeks a year I get to escape. I come home to an almost empty house because we agreed to not having children - a decision that’s starting to feel more regretted over time with the loneliness and a partner so absorbed in a video game that conversations would be better had with the nearest brick wall.

I’m aware I’m making him sound awful, for the most part he’s not. He’s just my total opposite. It used to be endearing, exciting even seeing how our differences made a new bonded life together. His point of view would open up new ideas to me and the opposing opinions we had never seemed that worrying. Until you buy a home, share finances and make life long decisions that is. We aren’t new to one another, we’re eleven years deep and that’s where the problem lies. We’ve been ‘us’ for so long that I feel like I’m losing my identity, I rarely make decisions that aren’t ours and time alone is non existent. I feel as though my voice is getting quieter and for someone who used to pride herself on always speaking up and being heard, it’s unsettling, feeling so silenced when all I want to do is scream.

I know most would tell me to leave if I’m so unhappy… But that’s just it, for the most part when this wave of sadness doesn’t feel like it’s crushing me with thoughts of what ifs and missed opportunities, I am happy. I love him with everything I have and the thought of not seeing his face everyday or hearing about his plans to build his career or what weird fact he read on twitter is heartbreaking. I love the life we’ve managed to achieve and I’m so proud of all he accomplishes and what we accomplish. I just feel a bit lost, like along the way of us building all this, I lost me.

So this is it, this is my diary. I have no-one to speak to in the real world and quite frankly I’d rather try and eat my own laptop than talk any of this out loud to another human being. I just want to vent, to air my daily frustrating and perhaps along the way help myself find some of the answers I’ve been looking for. It might be messy but I’ll figure it out.

• C’est la vie.