Monday, 4 June 2012

what ifs

'what if I don't relocate?' 

Is the question that's been reverberating in my mind for well over a week - well over a week and more loudly so since I desperately asked for some clarification. I've always wanted to ask and have been procrastinating for ages. Now i'm kinda like it'd look like a knee jerk reaction to the events that happened on Sunday, obviously I know it's not. He doesn't.

No there's nothing wrong - absolutely nothing wrong. 6 days to the 3 month mark and the good old monster rears its head. I'm convinced something happened in my past life to make me this way - completely incapable of being plural. I have no other explanation.

There's nothing more desperately distressing than indecisiveness and trying to make decisions based on information you don't have.

Why now? Why didn't I ask this earlier? I dunno, I actually don't know but it has been bugging me for ages, I suppose more so because this agreement was established on the premise that this relocation will happen. I'm like err, so what if I don't go - and you clearly aren't coming (we had this conversation) then err, what are we doing? Evidently I have a PhD in ruining peoples' lives.

Truth, I've been bent on relocating for a few months now, but what if i don't? I'm here until at least early next year anyway and I do have a 3 year training programme  - all things being equal by God's grace as nothing's set in stone.

The obvious response to this is what if i do?

Somehow I always manage to get caught up in drama..#sigh

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