I made it home. Home is where the heart becomes distracted. Even though my trip away was brief and less than exciting, it did deliver some moments where I was alone with my thoughts. I was alone with the traffic and the noise of a big city which should have proved to be a giant concrete diversion - but it actually served to bring my mind back to 'me'.
It's sad and pathetic to recount just how many times my mind turned to John. I fear that for as long as that boy is around, I will be under his spell. At best, all I can hope is that it subsides once he is gone from my existence. Whenever that may be.
I also found myself thinking a lot of my friend who is leaving work, and town next week. It is to be her farewell lunch on Monday. I thought about what I might say if I have the opportunity to speak at her farewell - it is not the norm for someone like me to partake in farewell speech-giving and I am not the type to be inclined to volunteer - but there is something so special about my friend J, that makes me want to risk public humiliation and discomfort just to remind people how awesome she is. I have some things in mind, what I'd like to say - that is, if I am able to cease sobbing into my chicken parmigiana for more than five minutes to do so.
The break from domestic duties was also what the doctor ordered - 48 hours where I could put myself mostly first was refreshing. I was able to centre myself, remind myself what was important and try to think of some strategies to deal with the coming weeks. I'm back home now, to familiar faces and settings, a weekend at my feet; still strange, a little stronger and more ready for what comes next... I think.