I was walking back up the hill after work a short while ago, when I saw a passing car I recognised. It used to be parked outside of our flat (or apartment – I don’t say that because it sounds “fancy-pants”). I have been a passenger inside it a handful of times. It was the car my ex-flatmate used to drive. It probably was not the exact same car, but it was the same make and model and the same unusual colour.
So I have arrived home and my head is full of memories of him again. He is like the heavy clouds hanging over me on a day that should be full of sunshine.
My life is otherwise full of sunshine. I know it. I have every reason to be happy. Only…every now and then I remember that without him…I’M LOST.
After what had happened to me just over three years ago, my first priority was recovering from my physical injuries and the trauma of what had happened that night. Everyone said “take as long as you need”. It’s as if everyone who knew recognised I could not be expected to get back to full speed and my normal pace within a short time. They all knew it would take time.
I don’t think any of us imagined that over three years later I would still be baffled as to how I can go back to my home and career without falling to pieces the moment I see him.
Some of my family and friends asked me if I would like to travel so that I could forget what had happened and fill my mind with rich and fresh experiences. I have loved previous opportunities to travel. There is definitely a streak of wanderlust in my personality. I thought about it. I have family in Africa and Central America. I also have some very close friends in Nicaragua, Peru, Zambia and in Thailand. I would have loved to see them and to have immersed myself in a way of life that was so different, it may have completely diverted my mind’s attention.
However…I realized that wander as I may…sojourn though I might…there is absolutely no place on earth I could go to forget him.
My wanderings would only be a reflection of how very lost I was…how very lost I am…since I lost him. I think I lost him. I don’t really understand what happened. He went from telling me he had never felt closer to another woman…saying he felt like a complete idiot because he was completely out of his comfort zone and knew he had hurt me…asking if we would be friends, to igniting a forest fire of rumours that blackened my name in front of colleagues and friends.
Aaaah – think calm thoughts!!! I don’t want to let a passing car – which was not even his, just like his – cast a shadow on an otherwise wonderful week.
I do want to go home…as I have mentioned in other posts, I miss my friends, my colleagues, my career, my furniture, my clothes and the sentimental belongings. But despite everything that happened, I still find I mostly miss him. He is home.
He is my forest, my lake, my sky…he is my silver lining to all clouds that come my way. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, nowhere he will not reside in my mind and heart.
It all reminds me of a song…a song I love no matter which singer covers it, but I have a fondness for the hauntingly beautiful way Kristina Train sings. I have no idea who owns the profile…but she is a sad little thing is she not. Right now…thinking of my ex-flatmate…I am a sad little thing too. But hopefully once I have cooked some dinner and caught up with my ironing, everything will be straightened out in my head and I will be a happy little bee again.
Been moving to and fro
With no place to go,
since I lost you,
I lost you,
all I’ll ever do
..is be wandering,
’til I wander back to you…
Thank you again to The Haunted Wordsmith for a beautiful picture prompt.