Everything seems to be going fine. Just below the 'fine' surface though is this nagging anxiety and sadness and loneliness. Getting by and surviving are different than thriving. My life is so temporary. Everyone that I know now and talk to will be gone in less than four months. In 5 months I will be living in another country and leading a completely different life than I am living now and than I was living 5 months ago. Believe it or not, I don't like change. I like change that I can control, of course, but this is not that kind of change, or at least it doesn't feel like it. Being so susceptible to change means that I am not safe as far as I see it. I just don't feel protected here, basically. I am not going to pull a dooce, but I totally could, if you catch my drift.
Tonight, Elizabeth and I made a fort in our living room. That's right, folks, an old fashioned, 8 year old little girl fort, complete with blankets as walls and ceiling, and lamps, chairs and an ironing board for the structure. Pillows inside, pictures on the walls and a little lamp to read children's books in Russian. Well, Liza has gone to bed, and I don't think I want to leave. Strange, but I feel safe here. I can forget that I am in a scary, far away land where nobody speaks my language and I am generally treated like a disposable tool. The fort feels like it's my own little womb. Well, only better, cause I am pretty sure mom mom didn't have wireless internet. Too bad the floor is as hard as crap. No sleeping in here tonight....
No comments:
Post a Comment