Tonight I changed bedrooms with Lara. There's something weird about space. Even space you don't technically own is yours after awhile of living within in. Knowing every inch of it. Taking solace from it.
I felt a few pangs to the lower stomach when all her stuff was suddenly in there, and mine wasn't. When she was and I wasn't.
I'm such a pessimist. I really don't know why this whole thing has me so sad. I didn't love that room. It has a multitude of problems. Dysfunctional curtain that got pulled down one boozy afternoon and never sprung back up. Door that's unable to shut without doing up a rattly latch somebody's glued on.
"I can't get it in!"
"That's what she said!"
I can hang up my fairy lights up, in here. There's some very pretty French doors, in here. What am I complaining about?
I keep imagining walking through the front door and not going in there, rather than visualising an entrance where I found my way into the new bedroom, and am content. Maybe Dolly would be waiting on the bed for me. Probably covered in hay, as per.
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3 months ago
1 comments:
Sometimes it can be a strange phenomenon; this weird attachment to places. I’ve been through it many times and I see what you mean. It’s almost as if all the experiences we had were absorbed by the very fiber and material reality of the place and it seems to soak up all the emotion we felt while it was all happening. It’s hard to revisit some locations for precisely that reason.
But it’s kind of a weird thing that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people. I have spent too much time going back to places I used to know well and I found myself wondering where all the people I used to know were and why things didn’t feel the same and trying to figure out who all the new people were. You end up feeling that the place “belongs” to you because you put a real emotional investment into it but the returns are ever diminishing.
So…I guess the best way to help overcome it, in terms of pure, cathartic and therapeutic terms, is to start carving your name into everything so that future generations will know that you’ve been there. I wish I could do that with people too.
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