Visiting had become my modus operandi. It was my way of being able to cope with being lonely. I never considered that’s what I had been, but one day my mother had pointed out that she felt it was time I had someone to live with and we both realised my now ex was not that person.
I guess it was a relief somewhat. I now knew what I wanted and I now knew what I was willing to compromise with and what I was not willing to budge on.
Children were one of the not willing to do. I wanted to be free…
They were going to tie me down. Selfish as that may seem to some people, children are not for everyone. I think it’s far more selfish to have children and then realise they’re not what you want. Children become your everything. I liked being my own everything.
So the visiting. At the moment I was just visiting people’s places: family, friends etc. But, I could feel the restlessness setting in again. I wasn’t sure if it was because I hadn’t left the country in nearly two years. That alone for me was a record. I wasn’t sure if I just needed some time out and then I would come back ready to begin again. Or, if I would leave and then not want to come back at all.
Either way, it was time to find out.