I've always thought that I would have no problem with this sort of thing.
I know that the familiarity of a home is something you carry with you, and soaks into whatever place you choose stick around long enough.
I know that life is whatever you make it, and because of that the meaning of life is also whatever you make it.
So no problems there.
The crux of it all comes when this philosophy of lightness of being comes to bear on the context of family, friends and the people I love. In this period of the most intense happiness I've ever experienced, it is hard to come to terms with the fact that, amidst the efforts towards the easiest life-sized decision I've ever made, I am choosing a path that will take me away from my family.
Growing up on an island, the sea was a constant reference point. Even in an unfamiliar area of the Isle of Wight, and there are few of those for me now, if you know where the sea is, you know where you are.
Moving to university inland, about as far from the sea as it is possible to be in the British Isles, that feeling of a reassuring reference receded to a vague confidence that it was there, somewhere. Other reference points obviously grew up, but the bubble of life that is Warwick University and its accompanying residential towns always felt strangely adrift...isolated, almost.
I have a funny feeling that it will be the same on some level with my family. It already is, to some extent. When I was living with them, they were a constant source of company, humour, ridicule, nostalgia, encouragement, opinion and love. Living here in Hatfield, and while I was at university, I am always in touch, often daily. It is touching base, but nothing like having them nearby. Other personalities emerge in my day to day life, but they are not even close to family.
Beating about bushes with reference points and so on as is my wont, I will stick to the analogy and point out that there is only really one now...my internal compass is entirely focussed due West, towards a woman who is at this moment sleeping amongst the many pillows of her bed before starting her day.
That is the direction I am taking, she is where I'm heading, and from the day I realised I knew I was going to have to make this move, this change, to pick up my life and carry it across the ocean to her, I knew it would be difficult to leave home and my family. But that is how the thought arrived, piecemeal and whole, in my mind as an answer to the question;
"Could you really leave England?"
"It will be difficult."
Which is a response which carries the answer "Yes" between the other words.
All that remains is for me to explain this to my family, for them to see how happy I am, and to understand why I am doing this; because I love her, because she makes me happy, because being near her is the most important thing.
The second they see my eyes light up when I talk about her I know they'll understand.
And I'm moving to some islands.
Which might help.