Lately I have been complaining about this stasis that I feel. I used to be extremely mobile, and with that mobility came passion and vibrance. But for the past year, despite the amazing joys of being a mother, I have felt stuck.
I get the need to constantly be on the move from my father. My mother could happily settle in one place, and every time she had to pack up our home and move us across the country it took some convincing. They are still doing it. Hopping from one state to another even in semi-retirement.
Six states before high school graduation. That gets in your blood.
Yet even as a voice tells me it is time to go... burn my bridges and never look back, I have another tugging desire that aches to settle. Exhaustion. It creeps in tangled with a strange satisfaction. I can finally let my guard down and trust someone with my future and I find that instead of feeling relieved, I feel a crumbling sense of pure exhaustion. It is as if my strength all of these years was made from sugar and the love I share with Nikola seeped in like a warm wave and melted it away.
It is a strange mix, these two needs pounding in my heart.
Nikola finally heard my need to get out of Varna. I don't know what it is. Can I really dislike the sea that much? Or was being scammed a few months back to final tipping point? Maybe it was the hesitation of not knowing whether we would stay here. Maybe I just can't find my way on these streets. They always seem to move, and it can be frightening for someone who usually has such a s good sense of direction.
He heard it about a month before we lost our last apartment. He heard it in a thick depression. Then, while we were creating a plan to go to Gabrovo in the spring, we lost our apartment and I was devastated. I felt like I had absolutely no control in this crazy expat life and there was a solid two days when I gave up. I made Nikola make all of the decisions. I almost went blank, and I think that let him know how serious the situation is with me. Precarious, to say the least.
So we've moved up our move date. We are going to look at apartments in Gabrovo this weekend. Hopefully we will find something and we will be officially moved in by the holidays.
I don't know what I expect to find in Gabrovo. People keep asking me why I want to move there and honestly I cannot answer them. I have only spent a few hours in Gabrovo proper and although we say we like the nature and skiing, that has very little to do with this need to go there.
I guess I am hoping for a sense of community. A few more roots than we have in Varna. I guess I am hoping that things feel smaller and that I can understand them better. Whatever I am hoping for, it is the hope that is important. Because right now, in this hovering state, as we wait to make large decisions that could affect the rest of our life, I feel peace.
I get the need to constantly be on the move from my father. My mother could happily settle in one place, and every time she had to pack up our home and move us across the country it took some convincing. They are still doing it. Hopping from one state to another even in semi-retirement.
Six states before high school graduation. That gets in your blood.
Yet even as a voice tells me it is time to go... burn my bridges and never look back, I have another tugging desire that aches to settle. Exhaustion. It creeps in tangled with a strange satisfaction. I can finally let my guard down and trust someone with my future and I find that instead of feeling relieved, I feel a crumbling sense of pure exhaustion. It is as if my strength all of these years was made from sugar and the love I share with Nikola seeped in like a warm wave and melted it away.
It is a strange mix, these two needs pounding in my heart.
Nikola finally heard my need to get out of Varna. I don't know what it is. Can I really dislike the sea that much? Or was being scammed a few months back to final tipping point? Maybe it was the hesitation of not knowing whether we would stay here. Maybe I just can't find my way on these streets. They always seem to move, and it can be frightening for someone who usually has such a s good sense of direction.
He heard it about a month before we lost our last apartment. He heard it in a thick depression. Then, while we were creating a plan to go to Gabrovo in the spring, we lost our apartment and I was devastated. I felt like I had absolutely no control in this crazy expat life and there was a solid two days when I gave up. I made Nikola make all of the decisions. I almost went blank, and I think that let him know how serious the situation is with me. Precarious, to say the least.
So we've moved up our move date. We are going to look at apartments in Gabrovo this weekend. Hopefully we will find something and we will be officially moved in by the holidays.
I don't know what I expect to find in Gabrovo. People keep asking me why I want to move there and honestly I cannot answer them. I have only spent a few hours in Gabrovo proper and although we say we like the nature and skiing, that has very little to do with this need to go there.
I guess I am hoping for a sense of community. A few more roots than we have in Varna. I guess I am hoping that things feel smaller and that I can understand them better. Whatever I am hoping for, it is the hope that is important. Because right now, in this hovering state, as we wait to make large decisions that could affect the rest of our life, I feel peace.
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