Next stop?

My partner has left for Nigeria. The next time we meet it will be in Lagos.

It’s a relief that he is about to start living again, because his life here in Malaysia was not a real life. We have had a fucked up two-and-a-half-years – two-and-a-half of the hardest years I’ve ever lived. What couldn’t we face now, after what we’ve experienced? At least I know that we are up for anything. If the struggles we faced didn’t rip us apart, then nothing will.

I hope to leave Malaysia for Nigeria in January (yes 2017), but I don’t know how possible that will be. It depends on a variety of things. I should make a list and cross things off.

Money, or the lack of it, looms large. Doesn’t it always? If there were enough, I might be at his side, on the plane, right now. Might.

More accurately, if there was enough money and if it were just about me, I would be there with him now. If it were just about me, January wouldn’t still be in question (it’s my question; he is sure, but I don’t dare assume things will work out). But I have to think of another person, my daughter, whom I want to go with me; and who wants to go with me. I have to think of telling my ex that I am leaving. I am filled with fear. What if, what if, what if?

I am paralysed at the moment. What do I do next? Make a list. Work hard. Save money. sort out my clothes. Sort out my books. Sort out my life. Prepare for the big reveal. Play Sims 4.

Do whatever is easiest first. Breathe.

 

 

 

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