I turned 25 in November. I’m getting old. Just before my birthday Dana, Phil, Cecile and I went out for a meal. It wasn’t related, just an evening out with friends, but we did talk about it a bit. Last year I removed my birthday from Facebook to see who would remember, without being reminded, that it was my birthday. Very few people did. I think I sometimes go out of my way to make myself miserable – this seems to be a good example.
We talked about this in the restaurant and it started off a very interesting conversation between Dana and I. At the time I thought about wanting to write it down – it revealed a lot about both of us, including confirming a few things I thought about her relationship with Tim. Unfortunately I didn’t then write it down. And now thinking back to it I’m struggling to remember what exactly was said.
We talked about how, in a relationship, both parties have to get about the same amount in return for what they put in. This lead to me trying to dig around to find out what she thought she got from being with Tim. Although she didn’t say directly (I don’t suppose that’s much of a surprise), it did re-affirm my theory that it was more his family which she got the most out of. She’s a long way from home and her family, and having a family home she can go to at the weekends seems to be important to her, even if she doesn’t realise it.
Dana’s always hard to get information out of when it comes to talking about her feelings. She just doesn’t want to talk about it. While I appreciate that’s her choice, and perhaps I am being a bit nosy, sometimes it’s not so good. There have been times she’s been upset and I’ve tried to find out why but she just wont say. That makes it very difficult for anyone else to do anything about it. Perhaps in these situations it’s because it’s something to do with Tim and she knows I don’t like him. Perhaps she thinks I wouldn’t be much help, but I’d much rather know – and I can do sensitive when needs be – because there might just be something I can do to make her feel better. You never know until you try.
So my birthday passed off relatively uneventfully. The important people remembered and, even though Phil did end up forgetting, his memory was jogged by something later on meaning he did manage to send me a message before the end of the day. I rang my parents to say thank you for the card, and although my dad didn’t realise what day it was, he’d not forgotten. It reminded him to de-flea the cat.
So now I’m 25. Next year is the last time I can renew my young person’s railcard (16-25 Railcard is the official name now, apparently). Maybe I should learn to drive before then.
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