![]() I could outsource the school pick up to a classmate’s mother or to my own but that 20 minutes in the car, side by side, is precious. Mondays and Tuesdays, I aim for a 6:30 start at work so that I can log off at 2:30 guilt-free and go pick up Ender from school. They see in me a person capable of kindness and love and compassion. My lover is far away right now and I miss them and I miss the person I am when I am with them. ![]() I used to be able to give other people, friends and strangers, more. With all three of them, the prevalent, daily worry: am I short-changing them? Am I giving enough? Even though Ender is the youngest, it is still Flora’s life that is most fragile. When I wake up, my world contracts and focuses again: Flora. The grief comes in dreams and nightmares. If 30 years ago – even 20 – he had needed one of my kidneys, I would not have hesitated. I am not as unaffected by the news of my old friend’s ill health as I initially think. I’m confident, experienced, uninvested in the end result and while I’m perhaps not sure what I want – after all, life offers almost infinite variety – I’m crystal clear on what I don’t want. I actually love dating in my (so very late) 40s. I focus on manifesting a quick end to the date and debate if I should complete the circle of unsolicited advice by explaining to him why he is single and will probably die alone, albeit while doing yoga and not drinking caffeine. In the 45 minutes that it took me to finish my matcha latte, the person sitting opposite me found it necessary to tell me that I should take yoga, have my hormones checked, drink less caffeine, teach my parents better communication skills, stop throwing money away by renting, embrace minimalism, get out of my neighbourhood more, be less guarded and be more open to manifesting what I want in life. Were you at the same date I was? I can’t wait to get away. I hope I get the chance to dance with you under the stars. Person I can’t wait to get away from: Well, this was lovely. The tank is still empty, there is no reserve, no extra space in my emotional bandwidth.Īnd I’m not sure that this is a bad thing. Sometime around Christmas 2018, my world shrunk down to my three children, the sick one more than the others, and there was nothing left for anyone else. Narcissistic concern that perhaps I am broken beyond repair. The feelings come after: some shame and guilt at not joining the frenzy of concern, care and support for an old friend. The impending death, current suffering of someone I’ve neither seen nor thought about in twenty, more, years doesn’t pain me. A text from London: “Have you heard, how are you feeling, wanted to check in on you, knew it would hit you hard.” ![]()
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