The last few days have passed in a blur of chaotic confusion and emotion. All of us– my kids, myself, The Most Amazing Man In The Universe– are slightly discombobulated and worn out.
Moving houses, moving states… it’s exhausting.
My mate The Bear moves us again, bless his huge, bursting heart. Bunny and The Bear and I pack the truck late on Friday afternoon. I sedate the cat, strap the bird cage into the car, and say goodbye to the TinyTrainHouse.
I don’t look back. The Bear gave me that advice when I left the Purple House, and I’ve kept it close and used it often. Very few good things come from looking back at where you’re leaving, especially if it hurts to leave.
Auntie Mickey does the eight hour drive to Melbourne with me. We arrive at five am on Saturday morning to surprise The Most Amazing Man, who thinks we’re coming Saturday afternoon. Still half asleep, he wraps me up in his arms, and it’s like time stops for a minute and it’s just me and him. The world rights itself for a second and everything is always going to be fine.
My mum has flown down with my children, and she spends her two hours in the New House madly helping me unpack. I sob when she leaves, my heart breaking a little.
I will miss her so much.
Auntie Mickey stays until Monday, and when she leaves my heart breaks again. I walk around the house for the next few hours with my breath hitching and peaking in frenzied panic attacks. I can’t stop crying and my mind repeats a stupid story to me; one that says I’m going to be alone and lonely, alone and lonely.
I takes a bit to sink in that I’m not lonely, and I’m certainly not alone. It’s taken until writing this down to realise that what I’m feeling is just an echo of what I’ve felt before. It’s not real. I’ve moved again, and my brain confuses that strange inertia of a new location with the horror of trauma and grieving.
I have to keep reminding myself I’m allowed to be happy. That The Most Amazing Man In The Universe is not leaving us any time soon. That he’s not going anywhere.
I have to keep reminding myself, over and over. It’s all going to be okay.