The truth is, because of my phobia, I will not be able to believe in my trip, to mentally accept it, or enjoy it, until I am there. Because in order to keep myself sane, I deal with my phobia by making myself forget that I am about to get on a plane.
This has an unfortunate knock-on affect of disturbing the rest of my day to day living, as though I am not really here. I suppose because you cannot shut down just part of your brain, without shutting down a bunch more as well.
Maybe it would be different if things here were not so static. It was good fun to go shopping with T yesterday. And today I went into Islington with C which was also nice. But I have had this strange sense all three days of the long weekend, of being intensely alone.
It doesn't help that Mr.Aloof is MIA. I assume he's gone to Wales, not that he confirmed it. It just would have been nice to have distraction, not a heightening of my aloneness.
What I need to go do now is pack my bag. In this way, I will have tomorrow night mostly open in case Mr.Aloof does a last minute show. He did say he would meet up with me before I left. And tomorrow night is the only chance. Thing is, I don't really expect to meet up with him, but if it wasn't possible because I had to pack or get ready, I wouldn't forgive myself.
If I don't post again for a bit, it's because I took off to Italy without having a chance to write here before I left. Think good plane thoughts for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment