I have cried a river of tears and have been told to 'feel every emotion'. There is sorrow, loss, anger, resentment and grief. We are losing our home and have no idea where we will end up.
Through the darkness though, there is a little hope. I have started to feel the small twinges of excitement. Wonder at where we will be in six, 12, 24 months. How life in the country will feel on cold winter mornings. What it will be like to have family close by to just drop in to. There is a small bit of hope filling my heart that this might just be ok.
My laptop died this week so I am typing this on Nik's work one. Mum is here and very generously bought us a new one which I pick up Monday. I had been throwing myself into my other blog, writing, designing and planning MLL's next move. I am taking it as a sign from the universe that I just needed to stop, sit the fuck down and relax for 5 minutes. I am utterly exhausted.
So we are looking like moving on 27th March. Having an actual date leaves a gaping hole in my throat and chest. It's so permanent, so real. We aren't having a farewell party. I skipped out on a friends party early last night so I didn't have to say goodbye to a heap of people that I know it will inevitably be the last time I see {for a long while}. There are quite a few people who I feel are only being polite for the sake of neighbourly relations anyway, so I'm not really that fussed about a big send off. Quietly slipping out the door is my style, like I have done so many times before.
My heart is heavy but I mustn't dwell. Charlotte Dawson committed suicide yesterday and I am determined that I won't do that. The dog might come on the plane with me and will inevitably move in with us again, sleeping quietly under the bed. I won't succumb to all the thoughts that dash through my mind though. There has to be another way through this.
Just keep on swimming - Dory, Finding Nemo
