I have done some stuff though. This weekend I finally started sleeping in the flat. On Saturday I woke up to find the window in the wrong place, the ceiling looking weird and the bed feeling enormous. Then, when I'd had a shower, I made breakfast watching the snowflakes tumble outside the kitchen window. It didn't settle, but I was determined that I would, eventually.
"You seem a bit preoccupied," said Luke, staring straight at me. He was right. It was the end-of-church-melee; chairs being stacked, kids racing around with bits of paper and grown ups chatting in islands between the chairs.
"I'm in a funny mood, I think," I replied. There was no time to go into all of that. Instead, I went off on some tangent about how a painting consists of many techniques and brush strokes that combine to give a picture but would be meaningless to analyse out of context. It would have been clever had it not been blisteringly obvious.
That just about sums it up. Playing Scrabble in the pub last night was equally distracted from reality. I found myself playing words that weren't words at all, trying to be clever and missing the blisteringly obvious. I lost.
Then there's the question of how noticeable this mood is, and whether that matters. Winners says I'm 'genuine' which is nice but I think he means 'transparent' and I just can't agree. I'm opaque if anything, clouded by the world around me and struggling to work out all kinds of things to say, to feel or be or do. At best I'm maybe translucent: perhaps more see-through than I think I am but still unaware of the light refracting through my life, or what that means.
It will take some getting used to, living here, on my own. I'm more certain than ever that I will need to keep a better introvert-extrovert balance. Maybe soon I'll get over this weird preoccupied opacity and be a bit more like myself again.
Who knows, maybe I'll win at Scrabble again someday too.
No comments:
Post a Comment