She loved him and he loved her, but it wasn’t that simple. It never was. She was the wrong girl for him. She didn’t grow up in the right neighborhood, hadn’t gone to the right schools, didn’t have the connections to get where she was. Although she had put herself through state college, fought for internships, worked overtime, twelve to fourteen hour days to become the successful woman she was, it wasn’t enough. She had fallen in love with her handsome, silver spoon, ivy league colleague. Their courtship was idyllic. He was romantic, thoughtful, well-mannered, but he had a bad-boy streak that appealed to her. And he didn’t care about status. The neighborhoods, the schools, the connections – none of that mattered to him. It wasn’t until he had taken her to his parent’s home in the Hamptons for a long weekend, being around his peers, his friends, his people, that she realized no matter how hard she tried to bridge this gap, no matter how much he didn’t care about status, she would never belong in his world. She loved him and he loved her, but it wasn’t that simple.


My life is changing. Every day is new. I realize this is a part of life. But I don’t like it. Friends once close move on to new interests or different obligations and I find they are no longer a part of my life. It seems as if I haven’t changed, only those around me. But I have, maybe in subtle, barely noticeable ways. And to my friends maybe I seem to have moved on to new interests or different obligations. That’s life.