“I took the boss to lunch today.”
I should’ve known what that meant when it came out of my friend’s mouth. No, I’m not talking about the obvious inference here – that they were giving their notice – I’m talking about the fact I should’ve known it meant they were going to leave. Move. But I guess I wasn’t listening. And, actually, no one ever said “We are permanently moving out of the country.” – those exact words – until they were back to close up their house.
Actually, if you read my blog, you know that I knew, but I didn’t let myself believe it, and now, here I am wondering what the hell I’m going to do.
I don’t want to go back to being all alone because it sucked before, and now I’ve had a taste of having a friend. I do suppose saying “all alone” is a bit of an overstatement. I’m married. My husband is still here with no plans of dumping me – that I know of. But it was really nice to have a girlfriend. Or friend who was a girl.
I don’t hold it against anyone, wanting to move on. If there is one thing I learned from a fiasco involving a purchase of a house in Georgia it is “Never, ever, do anything major while thinking of other people.” And what I mean by that is put yourself first. Is buying that gigantic house out in the middle of BFE really going to make you happy when the family actually moves away, doesn’t come visit, and only uses your guest room(s) once? (Yes, it would’ve been nice if they’d told us they were moving before we put the deposit down, but whatevs.)
I’m not in a position to move to the UK and in a way it is a little cruel to think about the possibility – because it isn’t a possibility. It won’t happen. Ever. And that’s a sad thing for a lot of reasons.