Okay, I still know how to swim. In a mini-pool. Still have not gotten the guts to go into the ocean which is plenty symbolic, just so you know. I’m gonna have to do a lot of water dipping while I am down here but for now, let’s just go with the toe-dipping.
I can’t even begin to tell you how scary this journey is. Yes, I am here to write a novel. I hope I can pull it off because my protagonist is facing as much emotional upheaval as I am. Being back here has sent this incredible rush of insecurity, made me even question the sanity of my decision to write a novel set here and even more to come back for research and everything attached to it.
It’s funny how life is, there are people who hurt you more than is comprehensible, and the thought of facing them again no matter the time that has passed just sends chills into your heart. Then when you meet them again, you realise that you are a lot stronger than you were back then. You realise that it is all water under a bridge.
And then there are people you know you left behind. People you find either died, or totally lost it, or made it against odds but you wouldn’t know of it because you wanted to leave the world they lived in completely in the past. Seeing some of them tugs at your heart in incredible ways that just tell you that you never really left them behind. It can be tough to get them to understand that.
And then there’s the love of my life… That I still think of him that way says a lot. I’ve got this huge ache in my heart, that makes me want to connect with him in a way I never got the chance to. But the knowledge that I’ve changed in more ways than I ever imagined, has me sitting at the edge of the pool dreading the muscle-cramp. I haven’t even gotten to the point where he might not even want anything to do with me. That could be the thorn in the heart. (La espina clavada en mi corazón.)
My instinct right now is to get back on the train and head back to my little rock in the hills and crawl under it for another decade. I’ll head to the school instead.