I’ve become such a nana. It’s only 10:14 p.m. and I am already aching for bed. For the last two years, I have gone to bed at 9:30 p.m. It became a thing when I was pregnant and falling asleep while watching television. I had no energy. I was also getting up to feed a lamb at night. I was already being a mother.
So it’s 10:14 p.m. and watching Youtube and checking Facebook repeatedly even though everyone I know is boring and post memes to show they are truly friends. I have such high hopes that something exciting will show up on my feed.
Something actually did the other day. My ex-boyfriend got engaged. I analyzed everything that I could. There were a hundred and something likes and maybe eighty comments saying congratulations. One said, “Wow congratulations”, which I took as it was unexpected.
A snarky part of me deep down inside says, “I’ve been there and done that.”
And threw it away.
He proposed to me twice. Once was when we were young. Eighteen or nineteen. We were up the mountain and it was pouring down with rain and he asked. I went home and told my mum about it and told her it wasn’t serious.
The second time was with a ring. It was really a bid to save our relationship but it was too late. I had already given up.
I hope he is happy and did it for the right reasons. I imagine them getting one of those overpriced photographers because that’s what everyone is doing at the moment.
I know that if Romeo asked me right now I would be flooded with joy. We’ve talked before and we want a short engagement. We want to be settled before a wedding. I definitely want a job and expendable money to put towards a wedding. I want it to be flawless and nothing less. We have a child together and right now that is more than enough on our plates.
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