I've been going through a bit of a self-imposed exile. Sometimes it feels like Facebook is my only link to the outside world, those of you who know me well am aware how much time I spend on there. It helps keep me sane. I'm still not sure where I'm at, I have times where I miss my husband dreadfully, I miss all the little things like having our own vocabulary, and the fact that someone "gets" you. Oh, I've met a few people, the bad and the bad, and the okay-ish. I've been cursing distance, wanting a cuddle, and wishing and thinking. I've been op-shopping, bookshopping and reading, and trying to stitch my troubles away. I've jumped for joy at my independence, loved having my own uncluttered space, pined for the cats and staffies and drunk too much bourbon. And I have met someone new with lots of potential, but I worry about my baggage.
I'm just trying to work out what's important.