Seriously. That’s all I want to do these days — hang out with these guys. Doesn’t it look like the The Best Place to be in the world? I joke with my sister that I should move into the house next door so I can be a stay-at-home auntie — she and I could take it in turns to work and look after Blondie Bear. And there is a big part of me that wants to do this for reals. To follow my heart and live closer to my family. But the reason I haven’t upped sticks and moved to their village in the middle of nowhere yet is the fragile hope that one day I will meet Noah’s future uncle. This mysterious man who is alive right now, somewhere in the world. Because it would be so easy to stay as I am, contendedly single, working from home, putting my books out into the world. It would be so easy to live in a cottage by a field, writing all morning and spending my afternoons playing with paints and trucks and being a hands-on auntie.
There is always the but. The quiet yearning that I’ve pushed down for so many years. The one that gets louder with every anniversary that passes. The very human need for love and companionship. The desire for my own little family, even if it’s only a family-of-two. And yes, the delight of bringing an uncle into Noah’s life.
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I don’t know how to end this post. Two hours have passed since I wrote those words above. The next 12 months are going to be so full of work and travel, I have no idea how I’ll fit in everything I need to do. And the thought of putting myself out there to find a mate feels… tiring. Daunting. Impossible. Unlikely.
I have no idea what I’m trying to say, so i will leave this as an unfinished post. The wind is blowing so hard today, making the windows rattle and bang; the leaves on the horse chestnut tree across the street are already starting to fall. Time is moving on.