It is not ours. Not our dreams. Not what we had planned.
But I do have a future. And I've just accepted that fact. In its entirety.
Australia proved to me that there is life out there for me. One option that I am still considering is to move to Sydney, as I can apply for roles at our Sydney office and my preferred residence would be in Leichardt (a little Italy, street cafe life, Italian restaurants, safe, with superb sights of the city). I love Australia almost as much as I love my family (who offered to sponsor me should I choose to move there, thus negating the need to jump through all the emigration hoops) and friends who live there.
But this weekend, I started thinking, I'd be swapping one rat race for another ... albeit a better climate and standard of living.
And so I started to investigate other options, most of which I quickly sent to the reject pile, however one idea grew and grew in interest and I think I might seriously go for it.
It's nearer to most people I love. Peeps I'm close to are moving there, and other friends intend to retire there. I've always felt at home in this country and speak the language. The standard of living is good and I can buy a beautiful property there from half to two-thirds of the value of my home in the UK (which I would sell), thus releasing capital to fall back on just in case. I've pasted links below that show examples of the villas which fall inside this value bracket and they are mainly in the Almeria, Alicante, Malaga and Valencia areas.
So ... I could trade in the rat race for:
teaching English as a foreign language privately (from home, which is why I have chosen homes that have offices/extra rooms which can be adapted for this purpose). I'm already qualified (certificate and diploma) with two years experience under my belt. The going rate is 30 Euros (= $40 or £25) per hour, so this translates into only needing to work a twenty hour week.
and to supplement my income, all these villas have a separate "casita" included, which I could rent out to peeps on holiday. Not to mention they all have a spare guest room or two, which I am sure would be occupied regularly by friends and family visiting.
Oh ... and they are all walled and gated to ensure my two "perros" can't escape.
I've even thought about the fact that I can take a cutting of the fern and some soil to plant in my new home (from where Hammer - our Rottweiler - is buried) ... as well as keeping a small amount of Cliff's ashes to do the same, which goes without saying.
Working a 20 hour week, not having to commute ... hmmm, that does sound appealing. I could employ a cleaner once a week to rake the gravel over and clean (am good at keeping place tidy ... not so good at cleaning) while I prepared my lesson plans ... it would free up time to do ...
Oh, as well as exploring the country, rich in history ... moorish castles and white washed villages. Lemon trees and orange groves. Olive trees and siestas.
I figured that even though it's a future I'd rather not have ... it may as well be the best future I can live.
Here are some villas if you want to have a look:
and the boring stuff is here:
When I shared these thoughts with my BFF, she announced that she might move with me ... we laughed at the prospect of once again sharing a home ... something we did when we were 18 years old ... she is the only person I can imagine living with and I'm secretly hoping she wasn't joking ... because she did look serious about it.
Yes, it's scary and I'd be alone a fair bit. But then I am now.
And I'm so fucking tired all the time.
This life might be something I can actually cope with, you know? Because right now I just can't keep my balls up in the air. Something always drops. It can't be work. So it's my health, my lack of socializing or living in a house that saps all my energy. He worked so damn hard for this house and on this house ... and he'd be sad to see me remain here out of nostalgia. Because that dream has gone. This will never be the dream that was ... for he is not here to share it with me.