where i lived, in East Sussex, i was regularly thrilled by the room there seemed to be for gentle souls, for delicacy and subtlety. for beautiful flowery gardens, and dreaminess and meandering, pleasantness and politeness... for those who have no truck with the demands of The Real World... don't get me wrong, there were plenty of highly strung and un-subtle folks about, especially in towns, with poverty and problems, so it wasn't a total Valhalla... it disturbed me, but on the whole i was glad i'd found somewhere where i wasn't feeling weird, or wrong... i relished visits to places like Sissinghurst Castle Gardens, or Charleston Farmhouse, learning about people who seemed to be celebrated for being wussies, for living lives wrapped up in dreams and fantasy...
Mr G detested that side of the country. the pandering to the pathetic and the 'needy', loving the Self-Reliance that the Dutch seemed to have in bucket loads. for a long time i found myself trying to bridge his strong dislike for England and my own dislike for being here, falling into a kind of splits... i needed him to like me, but it started to feel incredibly wrong... was i just being unrealistic? was i just being too dreamy for my own good? maybe Mr G was right, and did i need to buckle up, to get over myself, to be stronger and more self-reliant, as were the people around me. not needing to be pandered to... but when do i lose sight of who i really am? why can i not celebrate my own dreaminess? combine it with an inner strength? maybe he needs to get in touch with his own wussy side...
i don't know... it's probably time to let go of what others think is right, and follow my heart once again... who knows where it might lead to...
tomorrow is that last episode of the mini-series i mentioned.... maybe i'll get the dvd of it...
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