It's made. The decision has Been Made. Which means I'm waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night and I feel like I have an adrenaline overdose.
I'm only moving to York by the way. I haven't decided to have a sex change or have a baby or cut my hair. It's not THAT big a deal. Except for me it is. I'm a huge coward. I like comfort zones and safety. I like my house and I like my friends and I like the way Leamington is so unthreateningly dull. I like the fact I know loads of people and the way it feels like home.
The last four or so years have felt more like home than anything has since my parents moved out of my family home in 2000, shortly before my dad died. Since then it's been so difficult to feel like I have a home anywhere. For years I felt like I was just camping out and was never comfortable. I was just staying in different flats. But my odd little house for the last five years has become my refuge and my haven.
I'm in huge danger of doing that thing you do when decisions have to be made. Like when you decide to finish a relationship and all you can think about was the good bits, the warm and snuggly bits, the pretty bits. Not the bits that made you bored and lonely and frustrated and annoyed and hemmed in and claustrophobic. It's like they've all been washed away in a sepia-hued rush of nostalgia.
But the reality is, I've kind of done Leamington. At least for a while. I'm not sure I can continue with a social life that revolves around three pubs (one of which I work in). I don't like the ever present possibility of bumping into people I have slept with and it's all very awkward, or proper full on ex boyfriends who I despise. Actually there's only one of them. And not many of the former I hasten to add, but I have been here since 1999...
Added to this is the people. My soulmate lives in Ryton. How am I going to leave her? And no, not in a lesbian way, but in every other way she is my perfect human being (damn our heterosexuality) and she makes me laugh and she's always there for me and she owns the cutest block of dog in the world (that's totally not why she's my soulmate though, no siree, I don't need pug love to make me fall in love with someone) and the thought of not seeing her loads makes me feel physically sick.
There are various other people who are so so so important to me and I am used to being able to see people pretty much whenever I or they can. How can you go from living somewhere where you're essentially never alone, or never have to be alone, to moving somewhere where you don't know a soul and could feasibly spend the next six months worth of weekends staring at a wall and weeping? I mean, why would you do that?
You're too scared to do ANYthing. The thought of getting on a plane gives you hives and sends you running to the doctor for valium. A visit to another city makes you anxious. You've never been on a rollercoaster and you're been too scared to imbibe class As since 1997. You've been on anti depressants since 1995. How the hell can you of all people make a move to a new city where you know NO ONE?
All of this is running through my mind. But I picked up the phone anyway and accepted the job anyway. From the 26th March, I will be living in York. Come what may.