Time for a bit of blog. Booking tickets for Rome today. Lovely friends have invited me for a week at their villa in Abruzzo so having a few days in Rome and then taking the train to Pescara. Pretty excited. The train journey is 5 hours, but it is through beautiful countryside. The urge to keep on the move is strong. I am going to toss my coins in the Trevi fountain and wish for a companion. There is such a big gap in my life since Mark died so suddenly and so young. Even though the last few years we lived apart as his drinking became more than I could handle, we never were really away from each other. We told each other everything and you can’t easily replace someone who told you the truth about yourself. He was the yard stick against which I measured my life. His words often hurt, but he was always truthful. I am so glad that our last day together was a happy day that I won’t ever forget.
I think I have tried to move on too fast. New country, new home and new job, and getting it all so wrong. Finally ending up alone and unwanted, having so much to give and no one to give it to. A proper mess. So the need to keep traveling has firmly taken hold. Some times I think I should pack up and just go wandering. My desires are bordering on the dangerous as the need to move gets stronger. I have lost the man who grounded me and no one wants that job so I swim in deep waters and mostly I don’t care.
My writing has stopped and I am not sure I will write another book. I read today that Marianne Ihlen died. She was Leonard Cohen’s muse and he wrote the songs Marianne and Bird on a Wire for her. I thought, lucky Marianne, she knows she was loved. She has real tangible evidence. I have no sense of ever being loved. It really does not matter how much I love my partners, I feel like they never love me back, not really. I suspect this is a bad place to be.
This part of England is really starting to be very unattractive – full of fumes, smokers and horrible attitudes. I gave away an almost-new vacuum cleaner last week. The woman hardly said thank you. In Australia a gift of wine or chocolates would have been normal. Not that I needed either, but I was appalled by her attitude. It is really not a very caring or friendly place to live. Time to move on – I need a beach.
* Since I wrote this I had a long think about what I expect from these little pieces of soul searching. My conclusion is that by writing here, I direct my thoughts out to the universe because there is no where else to send them. No one has really defined what a blog is for and I seem to use mine like this. Once upon a time these things would be shared with my friend who could be alternatively unhelpful (quit whining) or helpful ( I know it’s 8am but would you like to go for a drink). Looking back on a year or so of posts has me either cringing with embarrassment or rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. Will I stop? I think not. It is 8am and there is no reason why I can’t have a drink, but maybe not today. Stevie Smith wrote that about suicide; why today? Sadly it got her in the end, but I have my blog.
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