Musings on a Friday at Gloaming

I've done this bit before. This whole pulling up (however deep they may be) of roots and transplanting.

It's never easy. The re/establishing of everything. Re-defining our normal. Riding the wave of emotions-falling in love one minute and thinking you could live here forever then the next moment you want to be on a plane. Anywhere but here.

And wishing somehow that you could for a little bit, have the best of both worlds. Living in the safety of the chrysalis yet feeling the freedom of wings.

It's not easy stepping out. Everyone's excited for you yet they're not going. Everyone quotes pithy sayings to you from the comfort of their living room with their life the same as it always has been, thankyouverymuch.

You long for the regulars to return yet you don't want the mundane every day. You don't want to lose the spark of discovery, the freshness of a new day when you really don't know what will come around the corner.

Sometimes its tea and chocolate with a little ice cream thrown in.
Happy food. Absolutely.

Shared with the one that you are embarking on this venture with, the one who is the tree when those mood swings come and you do a little Jane of the jungle. The one whom you would live in a tent with because with him is home. The one who sends you out for introvert time because it really has been a long day with the littles and defunct Internet installers and landlords not answering and no one had a nap.

You sit in the grey misting ( one could hardly call it rain), listening to the tip tap of little droplets, at the huge piles of wood that surely serve some purpose then just decor.
And you breathe.

In and Out.

One day at a time.

In and Out.