May 16, 2011: The day the house that I lived in for 18 years is inhabited by other people.
The last few months still seem unreal. It's amazing how one selfish person can change the course of someone else's life.
I'm back in Hamilton with no family, no partner, no dog; the only one I have left is my 16-year-old kidney-diseased cat. It's really lonely. I have great friends who've been very sweet and caring, but everyone has their own life, of course. When you're in your 30s, it's not like it was in your youth, when you could call up your friends anytime and talk for hours, and hang out with each other regularly. That's why we're all supposed to find that special someone; then there's at least one person who you can be with every day. Of course, that doesn't work when the person you love is still on the other side of the world after 11 years.
I don't like not having control. It's one of my many shortcomings. And I feel like I have little control right now. Canada, as usual, is not offering me much in terms of career, but I'm not just looking after myself, so it's not as simple as just packing up and leaving again.
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