Drifting.

It's been awhile since I've met up with this group of friends. I've known them for a decade. The one who was pregnant, popped. The one who should be pregnant, got pregnant. The one who was learning driving, drove. The one who was the last to get a boyfriend, got a boyfriend. People who are happily in love are irritating in one way: By projection, they want everyone to be happily in love.

"Why didn't he come?"
"How long have you two been together?"
"When is your turn, huh?"
"Where are you meeting him later?"

To avoid answering these questions because that would mean a lot of explaining to do, I goo-goo-gah-gah-ed over my friend's new-born. It was the lesser of the two evils. It seems like, ten years on, everyone is moving forward into the future. But I?

I seem to keep sliding backwards.