My man has a profession that requires him to routinely spend days, occasionally weeks and once in a while even months (sigh) away from home.
And away from me.
Currently he is away for ten days, the longest time we have been apart since we met and although I dislike this separation with all my being, I decided to stop obsessing about things I can not change and turn them into something positive instead. These departures of his will inevitably become part of my life, as they are a part of his. It is an occurrence that I will have to get used to and accept, because he has chosen this profession, one that he does with dedication and great skill and one that defines who he is.
A courageous man whom I love with all my heart and soul.
Determined to use my time alone the best I could, I opted for a day, an evening and a night on my own again, back at the white house.
My old home these days stands so abandoned and neglected, still for sale, but due to the frozen real estate market light years removed from the possibility of selling - thus it is in a desperate need of love and attention.
Working outside in the warm autumnal weather, bringing my terraces back to their former glory, felt as a vital therapy. Later in the evening, I enjoyed the warmth of the fire, that one single thing that I miss deeply in my new home. Inhaling the scent of burning wood and incense, while watching the fall sun set in my westbound views brought on moments of soothing tranquility and deep relaxation.
Yet, the experience very quickly lost its allure and as soon as darkness enveloped the world, I felt a strong urge to drive back home - as certainly my white house no longer felt as such for me.
Instead, it has become now a residence away from home, a tranquil retreat, one that can bring me seclusion if I ever yearn for it. It can offer a time for me only, a solitude that is unforced and chosen, one that is only temporary - long enough to be enjoyed, but short enough not to feel too impeding.
When I left the house the next morning, it was with a sense of satisfaction, not sadness. Even though I enjoyed this momentary solitude, I knew without a doubt that my life was no longer there and I had no desire whatsoever to retaliate to my old existence again. I would never want to wish it back - it has become my past and my entire being longed passionately to return to my loving present.
I smiled with amusement as I locked the door, glancing back at my former home, pondering that one single fact - despite being currently as poor as a church mouse, I feel as the richest woman in the world.
I was born under the Tatra Mountains, to a Czech father and a Slovak mother. I grew up in Sweden and lived almost ten years in North Carolina.
More than a decade ago my line of work took me to Denmark, where I live today. My home, which I share with the man that holds my heart, lies in the northerly part of a Danish peninsula, in the proximity of endless, wide and pristine westbound sandy beaches, surrounded by the rough and untamed North Sea.
My writing is defined by reflections on my cosmopolitan past and my intriguing present. Ultimately I try to convey in words and images my personal thoughts and feelings about life itself, with all its magic, natural splendour and the beauty of simple pleasures.