She was twenty-five already, and all friends were settled for life. A high-earning fiancée, a well-planned wedding, a fancy honeymoon, and a lifetime ahead of baking and eating. They had the money, they had the luxe, they had the looks. When days were free, they went to the movies, shopped for love, and selfied their vanity. Life was busy.
She still lived in a dingy lone apartment. She’d wake up each morning, work out, walk to work, get worked up, and walk back home to her books. Some weekends she’d get drunk and binge on Friends. And when she felt like it, she trekked untrodden ways and chased sunrises. Life was good.