So my pervading sadness at the ebbing away of my temporary independence in London continues.
In six days, unless some kind of miracle ensues, I will homeless; homeless and nearly destitute.
I’m also sitting here in my ‘soon-not-to-be-mine’ flat, waiting for TMG to call. I am dreading this phonecall.
I think this will be it. This is the night that I give up on him forever, and I do not even know how or where to begin to let go, but let go I must. No matter how deep our longing for each other, no matter the strength of the feelings between us, we have been sundered. Not forever I think. I think the karma between us is much too strong for that. However, we’ve lost each other in other lives, we will find each other again.
I am not waiting. I am not waiting. Analysis of the patterns in our relationship show me without a shadow of a doubt that we want each other but don’t know each other.
We’re the same person, he and I. We really are. Two halves of a whole out exploring the duality of existence, one male, one female on opposite ends of not just an ocean, but large land masses.
Am I sad? Yes, deeply so.
Yet, the war is at an end for me.