I’ve had an interesting realisation this afternoon. Another sign that I am moving on, that my life is no longer dominated by my grief.
A blergh thing happened today, and it’s left me a little blergh. But just now I realised that this will happen. Every now and then, for as long as I live, blergh things will happen, and I will feel a little bit blergh. Nothing to do with the death of my father, nothing to do with living somewhere I don’t want to live, nothing to do with homesickness. No need for intense inner reflection and pulling myself off the couch and reminding myself one foot in front of the other and better not open another bottle of wine.
A blergh thing happened, and now I feel blergh because that’s what life is like. Not all the time, but every now and then.
And I can’t tell you how good it feels to be feeling a little blergh.