07.23.2013 - 07.23.2013
Goodbye to the lovely hostel kitchen and back to cooking in the wind and rain
* * *
What, the sun come out again? I could sleep and sleep and sleep, though it seems I should have had my fill.
All of our friends seem distant to me now, less real than characters from a book. And I the unrealest of them all.
I am quite alone now. Chris and I have split up for a bus journey to Inverness in order to save some money. We were apprehensive. It has been so long since we've been apart for any time longer than half an hour (discounting when my foot was infected in Bunaken and he went diving without me)--it seems strange to think it's even possible. At first we dismissed this option out-of-hand--ridiculous to risk this in order to save a few pounds, Chris declared. Think of the consequences! I agreed without a second thought. But then the second thought came, and the third, and it occurred to me that it was ridiculous not to consider being apart for a few hours, for what could happen that would be that horrid; were we not both adults? 30 years old? We laughed. All right, separate. And so now I am without him. I feel he should round the corner at any moment, spinning tales of a delectable supermarket he's found. But no, I watched him leave on the bus, pulling faces at me. How odd, how odd.