Yesterday was a bad day, and I could feel thunder in my belly all day like I was on edge. I've always imagined that I would grow out the fear of being alone, but it's something I forget about when I moved further East. Staring at the UK on iPhone Maps, all the tiny veins and arteries of roads and motorways cross crossing through the countryside and I think, if I could, I would drive through different cities all night. So many times I've found myself on the motorway at God knows what hour of the night since leaving home. It's all the same; these roads, the destinations. I know soon this will get out of hand, when we live in bigger land mass like America or Australia and, like my father, I'll board planes just for coffee in another state. He's mad, but the same unsettled blood runs through us. Blood that has made this whole island seem so small.
I haven't cried in so long, in fact, I can't remember exactly when I did cry before this. But I know my family haven't heard my broken, sniff riddled sentences like they did last night. Hearing my mum try and console me breaks my heart, but I suppose it breaks theirs just as hard. Too many coincidences and too much bad energy, even today I stray from home, walking the sunny streets, reading and drinking tea. Now it is more true than ever that we cannot be homesick for places, we are homesick for people.
In other news, once I snap out of the pity hole I've fallen into, things will be back to normal and just fine. I'm sure after pasta bake, Call the Midwife, a hair wash and a long sleep, everything will be just fine. And bonus, there's only three of us in on Monday which means less stress and more time to focus on unread emails and unset stock orders.
Oh, and I'm crazy excited to see this face tomorrow night.
