On Men and Birthdays

I know quite a number of people over thirty and who are still single. But I never really understood how they took aging so gracefully when it was apparent that they were alone.

An officemate turned thirty-six today. And he had this quiet calmness about him. I can't use the word happy here because that would be too emotional a sentiment, and he had none of that. But he wasn't sad about it either. It seemed as though it was just one of those things that happened in life. A natural progression.

We've been cubemates for just about a month now, but I've always joked around with him for being a lot older than me. And he always brushed it off with a smile or a laugh like it was no big deal. I used to think that it was all just a scam. That deep down, he was really sad and lonely. Being thirty-five and alone. But today, he doesn't seem sad at all. In fact, it seems that he's delighted today. And I know most women who reach thirty and dread their birthdays.

Maybe it's a gender thing. Maybe men age more gracefully even when they're single. Or maybe it's just because men are more okay with being alone than women are. Or maybe because men don't overthink like most women do. Or maybe because men have far fewer pressures to be married and have kids by a certain age.

Or maybe it's just my officemate. Maybe he's just really an alone person breezing through life in his own little way.

But then, again, maybe I don't know him enough yet to jump to all these conclusions...

Blah-blah-blah.
PS. One day, when I know him better, maybe I'll let him read this. But til then, this little blog stays a secret. Bwahahaha.