I wasn’t one of those guy who imagined himself with a family. I had a friend who always talked about having a bunch of kids when he got married, but the thought had never even occurred to me. Maybe because I thought I was going to die young. For some reason I’d gotten it into my head that I was going to die at twenty-seven like all those rock stars, even though I was nothing like a rock star. If not twenty-seven, then I figured definitely by my early forties, just like my father.
The thing about growing up believing you’re going to die young is that you never think about the future. It makes you reckless, and stupid, and you definitely don’t think about things like having kids.
But I didn’t die at twenty-seven, and as I kept getting older, I watched as my friends found their significant others, and got married, and some even started having kids. I remember once attending a dinner and being the seventh wheel and telling myself, I’m never going out with these people again.