It is Sunday and the whole neighbourhood is hanging laundry out to dry in the warm morning sunshine. My own laundry is flapping gently on the balcony, as I look at the view which will no longer be mine.
Six days away from moving homes, my emotions are all over the place. I feel lonely and overwhelmed in the midst of a growing forest of boxes, frustrated by my children’s relentless calls for attention, restless and sad.
Two years ago, I was packing to move into this flat, now I am packing to leave it. So many hopes have been crushed in such a short time, and both times seem to be colliding, the raw emotions, the sense of loss, missing my UK friends terribly. Everything is still so new here, single motherhood, my job, friendships, heartbreak…
Life has moved on too fast, I uselessly wish I could erase and rewind.