Getting to a weird point where I can comprehend where the Other Woman is coming from. You're skipping, you're asking; you're available, you're free. You, me. You me. You and me. A million yous and just the one me. I'm free. I'm light. I'm weightless. I'm juggling projections and none of You is real. You meld into one idea and I forget you are people. You are real, you have reality, backgrounds, and existence. And my popping into it, this free thing, poke, well it could have repercussions.
I'm not saying I'm being anything other than fine, but I can see the slope down into selfish abandon, a grey area where I matter, one of You matters, and well, no-one else fucking matters. So I can see how she operated. But that doesn't stop me feeling like I want to pull her hair out. I'll go and see the Picasso exhibition and if I recognise her, if I see her hair, I'll grab it. So I don't want to be like her. And I'm aware. There I go again just understanding, annulling.
It's been two weeks. I've called off the house search, called on the boy hunt. He was true when he said about the right things changing. I decided I wasn't going to find a domestic idyll through Gum Tree, that it could get different but it couldn't get better. I'm equally riled that I should have to wait until I'm romantically settled for a home with a capital H, and that I put such value on domesticity at all. Wasn't it that that stifled Me in the first place? The domestic is the matching of home and family, a house with human warmth. You can't lay your want on something so difficult to find, that ironically when it does appear, is just so simple and easy.
Part of me is still yearning for the Le Parfaits, white socks on wooden floors, a chair that's for reading while he cooks in the kitchen. A calmness. But. As it is, well, I'm here, I've got space to move, literally, and a lightness that I shouldn't bring back to neutral. A fake domesticity won't make me heavy. The real one, it made me heavy, in a bad why, so grr why do I still want it?? Anyway back and forth again, I have decided I can create a perfect nest of space for me inside a room I rent, and practice blinkers in the mess that other people cast. I can make a warmth that I want, and see if it breeds.
I tried to take two days off to practice my new calm. I didn't totally fail, but it didn't pass in a dreamy success. I'm still spinning back here. I am seeing new deadlines, finishing mid July, a summer, then two years have passed since I moved. I live in London now. I really do it well. I feel I have a pretty good hold on how to operate here. But, the bigger picture. Again, I am to remind myself about not so long back when the future wasn't possible, next Saturday was about fine, but further, blurred and abysmal. I'm thinking now about new focuses, and how much extra time I will have to make good use of come mid July. I'm aware I need to gather some strength from somewhere.