The last few days has been good. Not good as in everything is going amazingly, but good as in my mind has been settled somewhat. I have learnt to trust.
Two hours of talking to you still goes by so quickly, and we still have so much to say, to learn, to decide.
Or, should I say, I have so much to learn, to decide...
I am now actually getting apprehensive. I hope - truely hope - that you are not expecting me to stay longer than I can in September. I am worried that you will be unhappy that I cannot, and make me unhappy by pushing me. But I will come to you, if you have the patience to wait for me. Because my entire life is so damn complicated here. I feel I cannot leave yet - I will be letting everybody down as it is, my family, friends, the employer who has invested so much in me, and myself. I feel as though my world will shatter, and all I will have left is you, your country and the empty shell of what was. Not that that is a bad thing mind, it's just the fact that I rather like my life the way it is... And change does not come easily to me over the smallest of things. This is monumental.
As for September itself, I still have nowhere to stay... Argh!
Your brother is a good man if he is to help you find a house for us. Not a flat even - a house! For US!! To be together, for as long as we can stand each other! Man, you don't even mind that I can't (or won't) cook!
Now... How the shitting hell do I tell people??!?! How the shitting bloody hell?!?? I know full well that nobody will approve. That nobody will accept it. That I will have the hardest time adjusting. That I will never have a way back to what is now.
Oh, crap. On to the next round of worry...
