Lost Along the Way(52)

“We don’t need to get into it all again now,” Cara said. “It’s late.”

“No, I want to. I want to tell you guys something. I really have thought a lot about why I felt the way I did and when it all started, and as much as I hate to admit it, I think a lot of it began around the time that Meg got married.”

“What?” Meg said. “What did my getting married have to do with anything? I had a wonderful time at my wedding. I thought you did, too.”

“I did. I swear, I really did. But still, it was hard for me, too. I’m not proud to admit that.”

“Hard how?” Cara asked.

“I think that after Meg’s wedding I kind of started to gradually withdraw. I was foundering in the city by myself. I didn’t have a boyfriend, or a job, or the grand life I’d imagined when we were younger, and I stupidly believed that I was going to make something of myself. I was barely getting by, and it was kind of hard to watch you pass by me in life, with a great guy and everything you’d ever wanted laid in front of you, while I struggled to hold myself together. I wasn’t strong enough, I guess. When Cara got engaged it made everything worse. It sucked. It sucked really bad.”

“I never knew you felt that way,” Meg said. “I never felt like you were the third wheel. I wish you’d have said something to me. We could’ve talked about it.”

“I know. It’s a hard thing to talk about. Especially when you’re in your twenties and an insecure mess. I guess I didn’t have the guts to talk about it, and I didn’t want you to know that I was actually lonely.”

“I knew you were lonely,” Cara said. “We were young, and there were millions of other single people running around the city. We weren’t racing each other. It wasn’t a contest.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, though. It was a contest. In my mind, at least. It’s hard responding to wedding invitations without a date. It’s hard being at a couples dinner and having the reservation be for five people instead of six. I feel silly saying it, but it is. I felt like there was something wrong with me because you guys were able to find people who loved you and I couldn’t. You were checking all the items off life’s to-do list without me: Get engaged, check. Get married, check. Leave the city and buy houses on Long Island, check. You guys were off in a whole new world that I couldn’t be a part of, and I felt like I was stuck and going nowhere.”

“You took it personally?” Meg asked. “I guess I never thought about it that way. I was never alone after college. I never had to deal with that kind of pressure. It never occurred to me.”

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have understood if you told me how you were feeling. The funny thing is, I understand it now. How’s that for ironic.”

“You’re married. And approaching forty. How could you possibly understand it now?”

“Just because we’re older doesn’t mean those things go away. New Year’s Eve never used to bother me. Now I swear to God I want to go to sleep on the thirtieth of December and wake up on January second. It’s torture not having someone to kiss at midnight or go to a party with. Starting off the year like a walking advertisement for loneliness isn’t uplifting. I certainly don’t think it’s cause for celebration. This year I’m staying home alone.”

“Oh my God, exactly. That’s exactly it. That’s how I felt for the better part of a decade. Every holiday, every event—anytime something came in the mail with a response card. Every time you guys wanted to go to dinner or told me that the four of you were going to a movie or something. I felt like I was being punched every time. The happier you guys seemed in your marriages, the worse I felt about myself. I should’ve seen a shrink, but I didn’t have the self-awareness at the time to realize I needed one.”

“Or the money to pay for one,” Cara added. She reached over and gently squeezed Jane’s foot. The familiar gesture made Meg smile.

“Good point. Instead I decided to deal with it by pretending that I was too busy being fabulous to keep in touch, and fading away. Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Yeah. Pretty stupid,” Meg said. “But even dumber that I didn’t think of that. I probably would’ve seen it if I’d stopped focusing on Steve and my marriage for two minutes and devoted any time to thinking about how you felt. I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand where you were coming from. I’m sorry I ignored you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Better you just ignored her than accused her of being jealous of you,” Cara admitted.

“I was jealous, though. There, I said it out loud. I hate myself,” Jane said.

“Don’t say that,” Meg said. “Stop beating yourself up over everything.”

“You know, I thought I’d feel better getting the truth off my chest after all of these years, but saying it out loud hurt more than I expected. My self-loathing right now is epic.”

“Why is it so hard to talk about things like this?” Cara asked. “The pressure we women put on ourselves and each other to have everything together at all times is ridiculous. No one wants to admit when things go badly. Seriously, look at the three of us. We’re all imploding and doing it silently. Until now, none of us has confided in anyone. We are making the same mistakes all over again. Why couldn’t I tell anyone that my marriage was a disaster? Why do I continue to smile and show up at dinners and parties and pretend like I’m happy to be there? I feel like I don’t want to admit to anyone that I’m not good at it. Like being ‘good’ at marriage is a skill you can improve.”