I’m thinking. I’m thinking of who I’m writing this to, the imaginary person who might one day read this. I imagine that she’s a woman in her 50s, probably Canadian, who would think me charming if we met face-to-face. Women of a certain age think I’m a nice person. But they have husbands and lives.
Once your friends couple up, you will not see them again except on special occasions. You will not hang out with them, because, of necessity, you will be a lot less important to them. This is simply how it is.