Anyone who knows me well, ahem my husband, knows I watch shows on repeat. Gilmore Girls, West Wing, Lost, and the original Sex and the City (SATC). SATC is one of my favorite shows of all time. There's something about the friendships. It just touches and entertains me.
And I've always been a Carrie. C'mon, she's a writer and a free spirit and has curly hair and plus, she loves fashion and cosmos. So of course I'm a Carrie. (Yes, I know Miranda is a lawyer, but she's always been too buttoned up for me)
The reboot (And Just Like That) is wrapping up and these last episodes have slayed me a bit. The reboot series has become a bit melancholy in season three and yet (despite an uneven first season) I still love it. Carrie lost Mr. Big (he died episode 1, season 1 of the reboot) and she is a widow.
(Spoiler to come)
Carrie's heartfelt attempted reconciliation with Adian was a bust, and then the Brit writer she liked and who liked her primarily for her brains and writing skills (which was new for her) left. Now Carrie is adrift and all alone. Wondering, and writing, what's wrong with being alone? And is she alone? She still has her friends. And her writing.
I've been with my love for decades. Yet, I've always had a secret fear that I would end up alone, adrift without my rock. My husband Adrian is the place I moor. And the possibility of being without each other is one that both of us have to consider could happen one day. We have no kids. What would I do? What would he do?
I don't know. But what I'm sure of is that I would be lost. And while writing is a salve, it's not everything. I guess what I'm saying is that I am truly starting to feel my mortality at almost 54. It feels scary. But it's reality.
Tis life as they say. So I plan on appreciating life and what I have more, because, and this is more true than anything, it is beautiful.
