My main reason for writing this on my blog was to avoid having to tell people what happened. I didn’t want to bump into people in Waitrose and have to explain why I’m not leaving at the end of the summer. I thought it was much easier for me to blurt it all out and then let people do the talking between themselves, leaving me to try and get on with things.
Today, I answered the phone and was asked about my return to Dubai. Why the conversation couldn’t have stayed on the weather, I don’t know. Immediately, my throat closes up and I have to try to explain in my squeakiest voice how we weren’t going back. Not one for awkward conversations, he changed the subject and was off the phone in two seconds flat.
It’s like when you bump into an old friend who asks how that lovely dog of yours is, only for you to have to tell them that you put it down last weekend. They’re caught off guard as they were just making small talk and suddenly you’re welling up and they’re looking for the nearest escape route. Or worse, asking more questions making you lose it all together.
Most of the time, however, I’m fine. I’m starting to be quite rational and practical about things, and far less angry. I’m not sure if this is possible because I’m feeling better, or if I’m so exhausted that I can’t fight anymore. I’m trying harder to cooperate and feel, at least most of the time, that it’s appreciated.
I am very lucky to have such great family and friends who are definitely keeping me sane. No mollycoddling and sad stares, it’s all about staying busy and cracking jokes. Enjoying the simple pleasures in life; real friends, good food and new experiences.