12:49 p.m. - Friday, Jun. 18, 2004
Stepping away from the memories
If I had an imood, which I don't, it would read 'topsy-turvy'. (the reason I don't have one is that it would still read topsy-turvy in a week's time, when I might be anything from ecstatic to suicidal. An icon cannot keep up with my changing mood!).

So yes. I feel strange. Because this is my home, and I am leaving it. And I'm not sure when. And I'm not sure if I can bear to leave, nor sure if I can bear to stay. It's very, very odd, and I don't like it at all.

Bob is gone, of course, and not back for another four weeks. He has no home here.

My home is half a home without Mia, who has now left here for good.

But this place is full of unfinished business, full of friends and acquaintances I don't want to lose touch with, and equally can't fit into my new life.

People to thank, places to breathe, feelings to feel.

I either have to snatch myself away, or take my fill.

I think snatching is the way forward. But this city will reach across at me with gentle tendrils. So much to clear up, tie off, cauterise. Four years of life leaves a lot of footprints.

I want, nay need, Bob to do this with. But he is not here. And I am lonely. And I don't know what to do.

* * * * *

Look both ways before you cross the road, lovelies. I'm sure you do, but be doubly careful. I feel like, I've got to 22, I am a safe road crosser.

This week, someone was killed on the main road my little street leads from. The road I cross daily to reach the unversity.

This person, an adult, was killed during the day. Near a crossing. By a coach. That's all the facts I know...except that the people that witnessed it saw things they won't forget.

So be careful, ok. We may be adults, but we're still very soft inside.

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