Pasta and time travel

Guess who's happy. My oldest friend! She's been really low lately -- and her lows can be loooow -- but she decided to change her life. She joined a seniors-only dating service and was paired with a 60-something graphic designer who lives less than 5 miles from her. In the past week they've seen one another at least three times, including a dinner date at his place for fettuccine and an Outlander binge. She says she's too busy to talk, and this makes me happy because I believe her. She goes through periods where she doesn't answer my emails or pick up when I call because she's blue or hiding things from me or being pissy. No, this time she's actually occupied spending time with someone else. Going outside. Interacting with a person who isn't her cousin or daughter (who are practically the only people she's spoken to in years).

I'm delighted! Perhaps I should be more cautiously optimistic, because she has a tendency to idolize men and they can't live up to her expectations. But you know what? That may not happen for months ... or years ... or at all! What leads me to say this?

Guess who was wrong. That would be me! I was so sure that my oldest friend was embarking on one of her manic phases. When she gets like this, she becomes uncharacteristically driven and makes big, irreparable moves that aren't in her own best interest. I lost sleep, thinking of her either being scammed by this guy or traveling with him to Tijuana where they would celebrate their quicky marriage with matching tattoos. However, while I was tossing and turning, she was planning a day of pasta and time travel.   

Have I learned from this? Yes. Will I over-react and waste my time worrying? Most likely. But I hope when that happens I'll remember this episode and talk myself down.

Photo by Sdf Rahbar on Unsplash