Where IS home?

I’m sitting here at the dining room table wondering what happened.

Every now and then I hear the ‘thunk’ of an apple as it hits the ground outside.

I know I haven’t blogged for ages ... I’ve been busy ... dating. Yes dating.

I met C through an internet site and had the most wonderful beginnings ... wandering the streets of Cambridge hand in hand together, kissing on top of Castle hill, and marvelling that love had come my way again. We to-ed and fro-ed with hundreds of emails; sexy delicious emails ... and then we went to Scotland for a holiday.

.... and 9 hours in a car alone with someone really gets to the point pretty damned quickly. I tried to like C’s music and he made no effort to like mine. “Woman’s hour” and  my favourite Radio 4 were frowned upon ... things weren’t going well. I had a stressful time introducing my new beau to my best buddies Tat and Is. C felt left out and sidelined by my friendship with the girls, I missed Richard badly, and I developed a bad case of cystitis that ended up with me weeping in the bath. Not the romantic holiday I had planned.  

When we came back I ended it and then fell into a huge black hole. I’d lost my confidence completely, now that I’d tried to love someone and failed. 

The girl who had loved and been so easy to love had dissapeared. Disappointment haunted all my dreams. I had no idea sadness and fear could affect me so badly. I developed a pair of extremely sore shoulders (technically my rotater cuffs were inflamed and tennis elbow had come a calling too). I could hardly lift my arms. No ability to embrace. I’d been trying so hard to shoulder the responsibilities of a new relationship.

And then ... along came Marianne and Tony Backhouse with their caring and their fun and their sense of me as a decent human being.

 I'd been struggling badly trying to forget about Richard and the grief of losing my best mate. I'd been trying to "move on", surely 2 years was long enough. But it seems 2 years isn't long enough and I'm still sad beyond measure. I'd been out walking by myself every morning, trying to get going, keep moving, and the photos I'd been taking had reflected the road ahead.

 

 then one day, cold and rainy as I stumbled along thinking why couldn't I make this work, I was ready; surely. This is the photo I took on my phone.

Time to stop and turn around. 

As I'd been weeping all over the Backhouses, they'd both said independently of each other "Why don't you come and live with us and have fun?" I protested that I would be a millstone around their necks, that I'd only drag them down, but they protested right back that it would be fine. So I started to think about it and the more I thought about it the more it seemed a bloody good idea.

So here I am starting to pack up my life and my house. Trying to see this as an opportunity but actually terrified that I'm leaving my safety net far, far behind.I keep hearing things on the radio about attachment & loss and I find myself crying at the drop of a hat.

But there we go, it's done now, the ticket's booked and most people are told. All I have to do now is pack up the house and my life where I've been so happy & so sad for the last 7 years.

Here comes the next chapter....