I can't really translate well the Greek saying on the title, literally translated sounds quite harsh. So, I will first write my post and translate it in the end.
I love quietness in the house. I love waking up, the sun shining through the windows and my husband not being here. (And imagine, I don't even have children). I walk around in something indecent but unsexy, I have my coffee as I want it. Most often I have no music (or at least no radio, but sometimes I play my old and forgotten CDs), and I browse on the net for a while, in silence, wasting time in stupid or mildly interesting things, just sitting there thinking. Today I even picked up an 'essential Shakespeare' handbook to brush up on my Macbeth as we are watching it tonight on the amazing Lyric theatre in Belfast.
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, I love him a lot. I am an only child though, and this has shaped my self in a deep way. When I was small, I had to kill millions hours by myself. I had to learn to play by myself. I discovered early on the joy of reading for the only-child, and you would always find me in a corner not making a mess trying to occupy myself. When I was small that was my biggest worry: would I have something to do if my parents took me to place that there were no other children? I always went around with a small bag stuffed with little toys, so that I would never be left 'without something to do'. But as I spent endless hours by myself, this has become a need that transcends all my life. I love people, and I love my friends, but my mental balance depends on having time on my own to rebalance, to think, to do my things, to just be lazy, to not compromise on the music on the CD. Just to be myself. So when my husband started going for runs last year, I loved it. This year, with his new bike he leaves me for hours in the weekend as he cycles up and down the country. He comes back smily, happy, relaxed, with a clear head. Boring, un-sporty me sits at home and just rebalances, whatever makes each of us happy right?
Which brings me back to the title: Μακρυά κι αγαπημένοι, literally we love each other from afar. Not always of course, but for me at least there is always this need to just be without someone, just to sit there thinking, writing on my forgotten and neglected blog. Being 3 years old again, playing with my toys in the corner, regrouping my silly thoughts.
I love quietness in the house. I love waking up, the sun shining through the windows and my husband not being here. (And imagine, I don't even have children). I walk around in something indecent but unsexy, I have my coffee as I want it. Most often I have no music (or at least no radio, but sometimes I play my old and forgotten CDs), and I browse on the net for a while, in silence, wasting time in stupid or mildly interesting things, just sitting there thinking. Today I even picked up an 'essential Shakespeare' handbook to brush up on my Macbeth as we are watching it tonight on the amazing Lyric theatre in Belfast.
Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, I love him a lot. I am an only child though, and this has shaped my self in a deep way. When I was small, I had to kill millions hours by myself. I had to learn to play by myself. I discovered early on the joy of reading for the only-child, and you would always find me in a corner not making a mess trying to occupy myself. When I was small that was my biggest worry: would I have something to do if my parents took me to place that there were no other children? I always went around with a small bag stuffed with little toys, so that I would never be left 'without something to do'. But as I spent endless hours by myself, this has become a need that transcends all my life. I love people, and I love my friends, but my mental balance depends on having time on my own to rebalance, to think, to do my things, to just be lazy, to not compromise on the music on the CD. Just to be myself. So when my husband started going for runs last year, I loved it. This year, with his new bike he leaves me for hours in the weekend as he cycles up and down the country. He comes back smily, happy, relaxed, with a clear head. Boring, un-sporty me sits at home and just rebalances, whatever makes each of us happy right?
Which brings me back to the title: Μακρυά κι αγαπημένοι, literally we love each other from afar. Not always of course, but for me at least there is always this need to just be without someone, just to sit there thinking, writing on my forgotten and neglected blog. Being 3 years old again, playing with my toys in the corner, regrouping my silly thoughts.
