When you touch the third bottle, you figure that this isn't fun anymore. It's good that one part of your life has been packed up but you haven't a clue about the present. One guards you all the time. One overflows with "buddiness". All you want is a random conversation. Till the next evening you sit down to reassess your life. Have your values taken a backseat? Has all that self control gone on a holiday? You would like to believe the good things still exist. But this won't be the first time that you've been accused of living in a pretty little bubble. "Let's spread some love and joy" Nah, doesn't work that way. "Mixed signals" get passed around like a warm pillow.

Annoying.

Maybe some reflection would do you some good.

What say, monk who sells pianos?

P.S. At 40, the wedding's on.