The Scared is scared

I am rubbish with endings. I think that goes for a lot of us. I either cling on for dear life and refuse to move forward, or I do a swift cut and run – pre-empting that horrible squelchy-stomach feeling by walking away before it happens and never looking back. I am notoriously bad at keeping in touch with old friends for fear of experiencing that hurt when something ends that can never be returned to; it is certainly one of my worst traits. Sometimes it takes a child’s unconscious wisdom to remind you that endings are a natural part of life’s order, and they’re OK, and you will be OK, too.


I’m off to spend the rest of the afternoon doing the things that make me happy: taking a long, hot bath; making a big batch of soup; going for a brisk walk around the Common, and then retiring to read fashion magazines in bed with a cup of tea. Perfect.

What’s making you happy this weekend?

Penny for them:

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