I’d just like to take a moment to say how amazing my friends are. It’s likely to be a little sappy: for those of you who like your blog posts on the other side of the wall, please switch off your eyes now.
Earlier this month, I blogged about Claire and I’s break-up. For many of the people I know, this will have been the very first they’ll have heard about it. Over the 36 hours or so that followed, I was completely swamped by consolations and concern: by comment, text message, Facebook, instant message, e-mail and phone – as well as in person from those I’ve seen in the meantime. Every single one of those messages is appreciated so very much. Thank you all.
And that’s not even mentioning the check-ins that people have made in the weeks since. It’s so kind of you all. I hope that Claire’s feeling as supported as I’ve been lucky enough to feel.
So how’s it going? That’s what everybody asks. Well…
…it’s still difficult. I’m not sure why I might have expected anything else: Claire and I were together for a quarter of my life so far. I still cry quite a lot, especially when Grooveshark Radio conspires against me and decides to queue up a whole series of songs that remind me of her. I don’t see as much of her as I used to, and I miss her, but when we’re together I often find it quite painfully awkward: even just down to little things, like the times that I realise that for the last few minutes I’d forgotten we aren’t a couple. I’m intensely keen on us being friends, and at least salvaging the awesome friendship we’ve shared for most of the millenium, but it’s not as comfortable as I’d like.
As I’ve said to a handful of people, now: without Claire, there’s no compelling reason for me to stay in Aberystwyth, so in the New Year, I’ll be aiming to leave town. I’m not sure where I’ll go, yet, or what I’ll do, but I’ve got some ideas. Today, I told my boss about my situation and that I’d like to start taking steps to make sure that the company can do without me: the joy of small-team development, eh?
When I first came to town, I promised myself that I wouldn’t get caught in the trap of being “stuck” here. I realised that Aberystwyth was a place that I could really fall in love with, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t stay more than ten years.
That was ten years and two months ago. I think it’s time to leave my love behind.
:)
Things really do get better with time.
I would love it if you found something near us (plus you would have somewhere to stay while you are getting yourself sorted, if that is at all an incentive). Gareth and Bryn are nearby too!
Even if you just fancy a change of scenery for a few weeks please come and stay with us for a while.
Liz
x
I’m sure I speak for Ian as well when I say you’d be welcome here a while if you need it. We’re a little crowded by boxes and stuff right now, but I’m sure we can make a space for you somewhere. *more hugs again*
The North East is horrible. Don’t come here.
I’d love it if you did but I love you too much to suggest it with anything other than irony.
York, on the other hand is *stunning*.
See you in January.
It’s a tough break to make but i think it’s a healthy one. Always welcome to crash overnight if hunting in the UK’s silicone valley (the glorious m4).
I was reluctant to leave Aber, it’s the most comfortable of places but it’s not a place to spend a lifetime IMHO. Shiny futures await. Much as i loved my time there i’ve never been happier than now.
I’ve always preached a gospel of there never being an unnecessary break up but i’ve never found it harder to believe. I’m sure you’ve done everything to be certain that this is it. But it’s still a chaotic topsy-turvydom of my worldview.
Come to northern Ireland! belfast needs a man like you! also my sten party is on 10th april so you will have to come eventually. you are a wise man dan.
Love jen