The beauty of being single is that you have a lot of time to think. After a lot of thinking, I've noticed that I don't want to 'get married' - I want to fall in love and build a life with someone who feels the same way. If we happen to have a big party and a piece of paper to go with that, then great.
With that tiny bit of energy left that you have (ok, so that energy doesn't exist, but for the sake of my blog post pretend it does), grab your other half, stick on that wedding song, slow dance, and remember how you felt that day. What you can tell the Bride is that it won't be easy, but it will be worth it.
There is a lot I have discovered since you took your own life. Firstly, while there is no hierarchy of death where one is better than the other, it's safe to say that living a long life is at the top while a short one is at the bottom. I don't know where suicide sits, but it's safe to say, it makes other people REALLY uncomfortable. I was advised against telling people how you died. And in the initial bizarreness of picking your burial plot and coffin (and being asked whether Robert was an eco-friendly man), I erred on the side of caution. But by this 30th day, I have realised when the worst, most devastating thing possible happens, you lose the energy to maintain any artifice.
'Date Night' is a completely different prospect once you have children. And don't worry - this post isn't going to be some cringey attempt at advising you on a happy marriage once small people rule your life. As we all already know... a happy marriage is what you had before your uterus squeezed out a HUMAN-BEING. TWICE.
No one said that dating is easy, and especially the contemporary dating, where rules are regularly broken and challenged, marriages don't happen and many couples opt out for a relationship without children. It can be very uncomfortable for those of you who belong to the generation, where marriage is... pretty much a goal of your life.
There are other advantages to having alone time too: being able to read in bed at night for as long as I like, repeatedly watching Vikings (if I can't see my husband's beardy face and tattoos I might as well enjoy those of Rollo and Ragnar), not having to watch Arsenal, not having to wade through his clothes on the floor to get into bed, not being woken at 6.15 by his alarm every day.