This is my/our life. The cab is booked and I will meet him at the airport.
We really do live here. And we are really a couple trying to live together in peace.
I have had four days of unrestricted access to myself. Like a long-overdue colon cleanse.
Mostly what I have loved is having full reign of the desk, with the laptop to myself, my choice of music, and time to read superb political essays, watch you tube videos and feel my brain cells increasing, expanding and becoming more harmoniously attuned in just 96 short hours.
The Hartal* worked really well for me. The whole personality glitch that thinks talking about housework, sharing housework, slavery, feminism, hinduism, house-maids, is an essential narrative in man/woman co-cohabiting relationships, just fell out my psyche. I walked happily past mess, and left crumbs by the coffee cup. It was okay. Nobody died. (well, actually somebody did, but I shall leave that for another post).
I do love him.
I don’t hate him.
I just feel a little trepidation about balancing being a vaguely authentic human being and going back to how it was before.
Bottom line, we need to become a two computer household.
*Hartal. Strike. Official or Unofficial.