Member-only story
When did single middle-aged women become the enemy?
Down the rabbit-hole one too many times.
This morning I woke up in a panic and cold sweats. Then once I was fully awake, I realized it was still dark outside, and I was alone.
Alone, that was not part of the nightmare, but it weighs heavily on my mind. I am alone; I am not lonely but alone.
I may have been watching too much YouTube; since I live abroad, the passport bros movement has infiltrated my channel, and out of curiosity, I watched one or two.
Ok, I admit I binged.
Between that and getting older and being alone, I have convinced myself I will die alone with my future cats, dogs, and bees. Never in my life have I ever been so concerned with this; I meet people all the time, and if it clicks, we end up going out or dating, and if it is not meant to be, we remain friends.
It could also be the ending of my last relationship looming; was he my last chance for happiness?
It keeps encircling my brain like a mosquito that will not go away. It could be the mean things he said to me about why we broke up; it could be that he snuck into that part of myself that I am the most insecure about.
