Forty and heaven

I'm old. I think I've been forty since I was eleven. My heads pounding, my knees are throbbing with arthritic pain and I'm so relieved to be home with a cup of tea in my hand. No part of me, no part at all is regretful or disappointed in my inability to take this night further. Having no money sucks, but that's because walking around the supermarket today with £6 was really depressing and so much yummy food was screaming to be had and I couldn't have it. I don't think I'm boring, I think I'm old. I had such fun with my sister in law today, drinking tea, laughing and joking completely at ease. I enjoy hearing about the children and everyday it makes me want my own. I like discussing special offers and quick recipes. I like Pinterest being the coolest thing ever!

 

I know who I am so much better than I ever did before and I know what I want so much it burns in my dreams. I'm craving it. I want a life that's 10 years ahead of me. I want it now and I really mean it. Patience is the most illusive accomplishment I need to have. 

At least I'm happy here. Happy and at peace. Coniston is my sanctuary, my church, my refuge. I love it here. It's so special to have a place that's away from the grey clouds. It's like the forts I built as a child. This place is the first escape I've found that's been a genuine retreat from the haunting of those grey clouds and those four walls. Although it's not mine, it feels very nearly close to being so. This side of the bed, this side table, this shelf in the fridge and this use of a television and plug socket is all mine, borrowed to me with no expectation of anything in return for such luxuries. I am in heaven.