“Where do you think you’re going at forty-eight? Getting married? Don’t make me laugh. She’s running off on dates, making out with some guy in the park… Shameful. Go sit on a bench by the entrance and be grateful you have a daughter. And wait for grandchildren. And that captain will dump you. He’ll get bored and find someone younger. You’ll cry over him yet…”
That’s what my inner granny says. And she’s right. Yes, it’s too late for me. Yes, I’ll cry. I don’t care. I just want a tiny bit of happiness…