I am neither here nor there. I am closing down life here in small ways: the incremental ridding of household items and the boxing of the rest; the quietness as I go into "crisis" mode; the final times of doing things in a city I've known for half a century.
I was going to say I've never done anything this big before, but of course I have. Half my life ago I set out alone on a journey with a tiny baby. That was huge. Becoming a single parent at 24 was probably as crazy as what I'm doing now. But I never regretted that, and I don't think I'll regret this.
Life here is gently going. Life there is yet to begin. In a way it feels like when I was pregnant with Jess and our life together had not yet begun, but she was in there, kicking at me, turning, hiccuping. The same quiet waiting and planning - only this time there won't be cutting and forceps.
I will have my fiftieth birthday in March, in my temporary studio accommodation, with my life tucked away down the road, in storage. And Jess will be there to celebrate with me.