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.
Everyman is an island you know ...
Honestly.
Misusing apostrophes, and now misquoting/paraphrasing Donne...
If you weren't such a dashed likeable chap, Adrian dear boy...
;-)
Yeah, if I wasn't ... ?
I have nothing to fear but fear itself.
And vodka jelly.
Vodka jelly is fear itself.
i think i am actually going to have to come to england to understand this entire nonsense about vodka jelly and the fear and awe surrounding it.
what a pity, me coming to england. tragic really. tell vodka jelly i'm on my way.
Its only an island if you look at it from the ocean.
Hell, everything's an island if you stand far enough back.
I'll pass the message along to vodka jelly. I don't suppose I might be able to catch a few minutes with you on your way to the pub, k?
see, i'd say, "if by a few minutes, you mean forever"?
but then everyone would groan and wail at how sickeningly sappy we are.
Yeah, good point, so...maybe best keep that one to ourselves, and think of an amazingly witty and erudite reply to keep up appearances...
That is quite sappy.
I'll organise the party and the two of you can be sick together. Sick in the drinking 461 vodka jellies respect.
I haven't seen this much saccharine on a website since the great Irise/Goo hybrid process that resulted in Uborka.
OH NO!
Petit Blography Auto-Hiboux
Sounds like an assault rifle but hey, maybe it'll work out.
Isn't that the working title for the new Harry Potter book?
If you scratch the surface, we can still be pretty saccharinesome, you know.
But nothing like this new autohiboux sweetness.
This is the goo they've got.
autohiboux sounds like some sort of deviant act. or a small plane.
I have a sneaking suspicion that a "vodka jelly" is the same thing as a "jello shot." If so, perhaps one of you English folk could tell me why it's called jelly when there's already a perfectly lovely fruit spread called jelly, and then you can inform me how you tell the two apart. Also, they work much better when they're Everclear jelly. And also also, after typing this, the word "jelly" has begun to look criminally comical.
i think it's because the english know all too well that the spread we call "jelly" is actually pure evil masquerading as a condiment.
and you probably don't want to know what it is that I think of when i hear the word "jelly."
Holy crap, Stuart! It's been a while since I last visited, but I've been dragging my jaw all through your last several posts! Congratulations! She must be astoundingly awesome for you to transplant your life across the Atlantic! Welcome to the States; we're a right jolly old mess. Good luck! Exclamation point!!
Right, someone tell me where to get these jelly things, they can't be worse than actual vodka, can they? they just come in cute little packages, right? Oh wait, I forgot.. I swore off Vodka yesterday, due to a few too many visits to the 'washroom'. Hmm. Ah heck, tell me they are anyway..
*le sigh*
Because, over here, jelly is a dessert...a fruity gelatinous foodstuff eaten with ice cream and/or sprinkles...which when combined with vodka produces a small yet potent wobbly mass which has the power to reduce the most hardened drinker to a quivering wreck.
The fruit spread to be enjoyed on toast, muffins or the nipples of a loved one is JAM.
And vodka jam would just be...hmmm.
Why has no one invented vodka jam?
You are such a mensch! Moving abroad for the woman you love... not too many guys would do that!
Then I would assume that none too many guys from outside of the US have met my love...