It’s not easy to leave my family behind (blood related or not), although though number of persons who I consider in that circle has shrunk substantially… But the more and more I think about it, the harder it seems to get, and as the clock counts down to D-Day I sometimes wonder if its more than I can stand. Not many people will be a phone call away any more, which I’m so often used to. Passing my spare time by comforting talks with my parents or friends, catch up on the little things, someone to call when I’m having a freak out session momentarily. A new adjustment.
Finances, or lack there of, are always a factor, how am I going to afford this, how am I going to afford that? How am I going to move the cats? How much is a moving company going to cost? Etc. etc. Even if I didn’t move, I’d be running into the same financial problems so it really doesn’t have any bearing on moving transatlantic.
Embarking on a new adventure of my own, with someone, is so fucking foreign to me as well. I sometimes feel so daft and just… blatantly stupid, as if I have no idea how to act in the given situation. I instinctively react as if I were thrown back into the gut of my previous relationship, recoiling at any sign of frustration or anger, whether it’s directed at me or not. Then on the other side of the spectrum, I recall how meek and frail I was, and feel that at times I overcompensate with a “fuck you, I will do as I please” attitude, which also gets me nowhere. When in fact, I think all I might need/want is some reassurance that I’m wanted, and for things to carry on as they normally do. I keep feeling my neurosis will overpower my sane pragmatic sensibility that I am normally able to display and posses, and drive away the person I care about.
I want to curl up in a ball and not have to put away my clothes, because I’m just going to have to pack them up in a box in a few days anyway.