Time flys. Five months. Oh my...
I am more *even* now than anytime in the past three and a half years. Calmer, more productive at work, more organised. I have picked up my paint brushes for the first time since AB fell off the roof. I no longer shake when the phone rings and I can relax on the deck with a book *knowing* she can't waltz in uninvited.
I am no longer in need of anxiety medication. Have not needed any for months.
AB is getting up of a morning and *doing* stuff. He has played a few shows interstate with his old band. He is getting back on an even keel. Slowly and surely.
Last week we decided to reclaim the space that was my art studio that became their flat. It now has music posters and related AB ephemera. It holds some of his *stuff* including guitars and amplifiers and all things music related. His father's piano has a home. It seemed fair; it was AB's inheritance that paid for it after all.
There are holes in the walls that they created when they ripped down shelves and ripped out the aircon, but the holes can wait.
The house is less cluttered. I paint upstairs sometimes, but mainly at the dining room table now. I like the proximity of AB when I paint, the noise of the television or radio and his wry jokes dropping around me.
We talk often about whether we will stay here or go. The interest on the money they manipulated off us is about $200 week. Cheap rent and, we know it. But every time we pay it we are reminded of them, of her. And we are not sure we want the reminder. We may move just to stop that reminder.
Our last visit to Tasmania has us thinking again. So we are planning a trip in June to visit Dark MOFO; the dead of Winter to put a toe in the (cold) water. I have always been scared of the cold. Recently I realised that was because, growing up, I was cold.
The opposite of love is indifference and I am getting there. But her smear campaign against us is worrying us both.
No comments:
Post a Comment