#68 Thirty, and Still Dreaming
Today, I found myself thinking about an old colleague. We weren't particularly close, and we aren't friends now, but I remember the days when we sat beside each other at work. I remember bits and pieces of her life, the stories she shared about her boyfriend, and the little details I happened to learn along the way. And now, she's married. She married a Filipino-Chinese man, carries a Chinese surname, and has built a life with someone who is also a licensed professional—a Civil Engineer. Seeing her wedding photos and remembering how her story unfolded made me genuinely happy for her. But somewhere between scrolling through her milestones and remembering the person she used to be when we worked together, I felt something unexpected. Envy. Not the kind that wishes someone else's happiness away. I am genuinely happy for her. Perhaps I simply saw a glimpse of the life I've been longing for myself. I am 30 years old. And I am still in my childhood bedroom. I wake up, g...
