right?

My sister is getting married. 

             I am happy for her. But selfishly, it makes me sad as well. Depressed truly. 

          She is 24. I am about to be 26. (we're in the 2 months of overlap right now) I'm 2 years older. She is getting married at 24, to a guy she has been seeing for 5 years now. Perhaps 6. Getting married, two years younger, and in a wonderful relationship that has lasted longer than any relationship I've ever had. Perhaps longer than all of them combined if I think hard. 

        I'm not jealous. They are great friends and he is a wonderful person. But envious perhaps? Not even that. I know whatever is in the cards for me will come whatever the case. I'm not looking to rush into something that isn't right per say. But in terms of togetherness, she's eons and miles ahead. 

                Everyone I work with is relatively in their early thirties or late twenties and married. Newly married, most of them. Well, they're also salaried too. I discovered today. i suspected it, but wasn't sure. Which actually puts me at ease oddly enough. It makes me okay with being the odd man out in this crew. I totally do not belong. They are very accepting and open to their credit. But this is not my world. By a long shot. i can adapt, sure. But it's not where I truly fit in. I find myself faking it. Pretending to be comfortably integrated into this world. 

                  They're also seemingly comfortable as a fitting piece of the societal puzzle. A puzzle that is slowly crumbling, but healthy and strong in a lot of people's hearts as well. That being the mentality that everyone needs to figure themselves out and get married and find a person by their mid-twenties. Have a career beginning/middle/ending job by then. Get married at 27. Get a house a year or so later. Have a kid, a few. Usually 2. Move into a bigger home. Live that way until the kids are out and take more time off. Buy an RV. Have a mid-life crisis, get prescribed an anti-depressant and cholesterol pills and that's that into retirement. Perhaps a boat. 

               That's not me. I wasn't meant for that world. Parts of it intrigue me, but I'd be miserable. A long-lasting relationship would be very nice. I want that. But it wouldn't be entirely traditional. Asking someone to be a part of that is a lot to ask for. So it's going to take a very open kind of person. A non-traditionalist at best. Someone of the same nature. I would like to go on their adventure as much as I'd want them to be willing to go on mine. 

            Well now I'm on a tangent. But back to form, as happy as I am for my sister, who yes, is ahead of the social-norm of the social standards as she's looking at buying a house as well, there is a touch of sadness as well. More than a touch. I have been chipping at this topic for the last few weeks. I feel like I have missed the boat. I am broken. I am damaged goods. 

            Also that reminds me, as I sit here at work writing this. Someone once told me that they were damaged goods and it was best I jumped off that boat while it was sinking. Something to that affect. But yet, they've all begun new relationships. All of them, come to think of it. I've been told that twice now. 

                I won't worry though, so I am told not to do. Because as the old cliche goes, 

       It's not me, it's them. Right?