I feel unencumbered.
1) My former friends are nobs. They are acting as though we were all seventeen. I cried for a week, intermittently. Then I thought: So? I’m not seventeen. Why should high school behaviour bother me at 26? I gave them (more than) the benefit of the doubt and I was wrong.
Benefit of the doubt sounds like it means doubt is beneficial. It probably is- to take everything at face value is to leave yourself open to endless hurts. Sometimes I wonder if that makes me a complete idiot, setting myself up for grazed confidence. Other times I think it’s a good thing. This is one of those times. I would rather be disappointed than have no hope.
2) I am moving back to London. I am going to live with my family. It will be stressful, it will be difficult, it will be claustrophobic; I have no choice. So I feel chokey, upset, when I think about the stressyness of living with family. Then guilty for stressing about something I’m lucky to be able to do.
But I can still make it amazing. I will have to. So: arts events, friends, poetry nights, volunteering, writing trying to enjoy it. Taking a break when things are a bit bleak, a bit unenjoyable. London is the centre of the Universe, it’ll do.
3) My housemate is moving out in January, which is when I need to move back here. So I might be able to take over her room, which means I am not overwhelmed by shock/horror/loss. These eight months will, in many ways, just suck. But assuming my landlord doesn’t hate me for reasons unknown or perhaps for the reason of the coffee-spatter crime-scene beneath the windowsill, or the blu-tack from my Waste Land obsessive stage… I’m not coming back to nothing when I come back. If if if I come back.
I just feel like things don’t have to be awful. Some things are going to be. But that’s just how it works. I can only work with it, can’t I?
p.s. check it out! This entry does not once contain the word “and”!