Back from Sweden. Got home at 2 last night and fell asleep at 3. Tired today. Tired and emotional. It was lovely being home but also hard, it hit me when i was back – that im truly on my own now. I had to explain to everyone why and how and I felt old, lonely and like ive made the biggest mistake ever.
Im not sure why that was so much harder being home but its probably strongly connected to my sense of having failed, that thought ive always had of ending up alone and this feeling like a confirmation of that. Here in London ive rebuilt myself to not feel that as strongly and i see myself as less of a fail and more like someone who is doing something for myself but at home that doesn’t work. I spent most of the weekend wondering how i ended up here and wishing that this wasnt my life, that something would happen to set it all right.
I did have a good time though and had a lovely evening with mum and dads friends on Friday, went up to my awesome sister on Saturday and met Hanna and Jossan on Sunday. But you can do both, find it amazing seeing people you love and feeling lost and hollow at the same time.
We went through old paintings and was pottering around the house on Friday. Mum and Dad were getting the house ready for their guests and I mostly read.
Dad was trying to convince me this painting was big art. ‘Accident on the E4’ he called it. Not so sure that is something I want staring at me from my walls every day.
Dad spent hours setting the table. Its very important it looks right. I wont mention the time he was swearing over the napkins. It looked lovely though and Dad could be proud.
It was grey outside so the day was nicely spent inside. I sat on the balcony under a blanket for some time and got some sun on my winter pale cheeks.
My cooked an amazing dinner of beetroot mousse, salmon with safron sauce and rhubarb crumble.
The guests loved it and everyone had a second helping. I felt like a kid again talking about my life in London. Do you ever grow up until you have a family of your own?
Dad kept serving booze and the grown ups were up until 3. I gave up around 1. I know were my genes come from though.
After a day in Nykoping with me buying books and clothes (and maybe some candy) we went up to sister and had the perfect dinner of tacos and playing with the kids. Sister and me made plans and talked about our upcoming Prague trip. Yes people, in a couple of months time we will be sipping (cheap) cocktails and make plans that will change the world the way you do with your sisters.
The kids are so grown up now and it was lovely to see them. Sometimes i feel like I miss it all from here.
I love my sisters and Mickes house, it make me dream of something Im very far away from having, the family in the suburb with nature outside your door and the kids playing in the street in the evenings. Im sure that if i had it I would dream of late nights in London but at the moment it feels like somewhere you could rest your weary head.
Love these people. No matter how much it messed with my mind being home they make it worth it, every time.
The kids playing with mum.
Letters to my family 