A Quietly Bittersweet Wedding Night (Disclaimer: Not Mine!)

So, last night, I went to a former colleague’s wedding. Being the last two people from our generation in our work team, she used to be my close confidant in all things work-related. Going to her wedding, therefore, felt like a reunion.

But if the wedding was a reunion, it was definitely a strange one—because everyone else still sees each other every day except for me. I felt a little out of place, but I had a good time regardless. Catching up with my former seniors and juniors from two years ago, even just for a while, felt nice.

After I congratulated the bride and groom in person, my boyfriend and I hunted for the food stalls at the wedding. Everything tasted great—a definite highlight of the night! Once I was done eating and chatting with some of the newly arrived guests I knew, I asked my boyfriend to take me home. He nodded, and we left the venue.

Once we were away from the buzzing, celebrating crowd, my boyfriend asked, “Why do you want to go home so quickly? It’s a little unusual of you when you’re having a good time.”

I paused. But I knew exactly why.

I genuinely enjoyed catching up with my former colleagues—they’re good people with whom I shared many inside jokes. I was happy to see how well they were doing. But while I’ve always cherished our togetherness back then, I’m very aware that that part of my life is over. And no matter how much I miss the familiarity that once embraced me like I was one of them, my former workplace isn’t a place I want to return to.

It’s just that… it’s over, and that truth echoed loudly inside me.

So I told my boyfriend exactly that. I went home quickly last night not because I felt awkward or unwelcome, but because I felt the peace that comes with closure. It’s a quiet realization that something is truly over—and I’m holding onto that feeling gently.

They were a part of my life back then, but that chapter has closed. I’m writing a new one now—something even closer to my heart.

Comments