when I'm sixty-four...

...I want to have a companion with whom to walk through life in perfect synchronicity like the two old men on the photo FCN (she actually pointed them out to me) and I saw in our lunch-break on Thursday.

Are they brothers? Lovers? Old chums? Who knows. In any case, they were an endearing sight to behold.

Whether I'll have a husband or lover at that age I don't know - the old pessimist in me is whispering "not bloody likely, that" - but I do know that I'll have my friends to count on.

In the past few weeks, I've (re-)discovered who I can really count on when I need to wallow in self-pity, to be distracted, entertained or told to get a grip. In short, friends to give me sound advice that I can then ignore. Interestingly enough, I've always been the shoulder to cry on but hardly ever shared my doubts and crises with even my closest friends. Recently, the proverbial flood-gate seems to have opened and there's no stopping me. Scary. Still, there's some things you have to come to terms with yourself, for better or worth.