Monday, 18 April 2011
Sometimes it's just too hard. It seems more difficult now with the good weather than a while ago. Maybe I had just pictured myself with Jacopo in a park and not alone following the same routine of one year ago. Routine which is tasteless. I feel stuck, repeating myself over and over again in a blind circle. These were supposed to be the last weeks of my maternity leave and every day that goes feels really heavy. I bought some new clothes for myself when I'd have had to buy new stuff for my growing son. I had some sushi for dinner, alone at home, when I'd have had a 7 months old to wean. Every action reminds me where I am and where I should be and this place of mind isn't fun. I'm prepared to feel incomplete for the rest of my life and this is a kind of fair enough. It's this continuos parallelism of the real world and the one I had imagined that's slowly killing me. My mind can't rethink anything but me and John with Jacopo in a park with the sun and the gooses and the wind. A beautiful world which I'll never have.