It’s been a while since I posted.
Again. I must get more disciplined.
But this time, not for the usual reasons. For excellent, wonderful, glorious ones.
I’ve moved house.
It’s been full on, with starting the new job I only took moving day off.
I moved out of the matrimonial home – the place I once loved but became my emotion prison – on May the 4th (be with you).
I got the keys to my new house on May the 8th (we stayed with my folks for a few nights).
It’s hard to put into words the magnitude of the psychological impact the move has had on me.
I have my own house. Mine. All mine. I chose it. I’m making it look the way I want. Me.
I’m 43 and this is the first time I’ve every had my own house. The first time I’ve been able to get choose the area, the style of house, the furniture etc.
Talking of furniture, not only have I said goodbye to the matrimonial hone, I gave the matrimonial bed to charity.
I still have not got a new one. It’s such a big decision. I haven’t found the one yet.
I feel so happy and content – I feel at peace. I’ve not felt like this is such a long time.
I used to lament the loss of my marriage. I found life post bomb very difficult. I disliked the rollercoaster nature of it. Two steps forward, four steps back. I thought life would never really be ok again.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve started to realise that life was shit post bomb because the divorce process, being in limbo, was fucking awful. But now all that is over, now I’ve moved on, life is beautiful.
I am seeing that life will be ok. Better than ok. Life will be what I want it to be. Me. I am in control.
At last I see the light… the fog has lifted…
All those days watching from the windows
All those years outside looking in
All that time never even knowing
Just how blind I’ve been
Now I’m here blinking in the starlight
Now I’m here suddenly I see
Standing here it’s all so clear
I’m where I’m meant to be