One of those mornings when I just wanted to weep into my pajama sleeves and drink cold tea. Or watch WW2 documentaries and eat cereal. Either way I didn't want to go to work and deal with people's petty issues, but what choice have I got really.
The time is running away and before I know it he will be on a plane to the other side of the world, I will be on my own with my boxes and bags, with my fears and hopes and general misery. And when he gets back I will be in a different country, taking refuge in the Swedish countryside while taking stock of my life (LIFE. What. The. Hell).
Being close to him is still the most natural thing in the word to me, it has been since we met and this is how we've been since we met. Now, if I was staying here this would become an issue. I can see so clearly how we would fall into old patterns, re-hash old feelings and end up resenting each other.
I don't want that to happen, I don't want to resent anyone. I just want to wake up and feel content and happy. Fuck it, I just want to wake up and feel ok.
There is something about this which feels strangely empowering, while at the same time leaving me incredibly powerless.
It's like I am two different people; the strong, sensible, hopeful woman with gallows humour and a strong belief that everything is going to be ok, and the scared as shit, red-eyed heartbroken girl who wants to hide underneath the duvet.
Meh.
MEH! That's all I can say. I will now turn my brain off for the evening and watch the history channel until I fall asleep on the sofa. Enough thinking for one day.
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