I have drafted so many over the course of the Holidays, yet finding no opportunity to polish my writing into an acceptable format due to lack of time, it slowly became outdated and obsolete.
Additionally, I am experiencing an unexpected decline in my language skills. Despite the fact that I can express myself in five languages, English has until now been without a doubt the one I master the best - I can speak it fluently, write it with ease and I can use it to convey all aspects of life - both personal and professional.
I became proficient at speaking English during my years in the US and continued to excel in it while conversing on every day bases with the Irishman.
Today however he is long gone from my life and instead I find myself talking exclusively in Danish with my husband, my extended family and the kids. Slowly I begin lacking words and writing has become cumbersome, as a new vocabulary takes over my thinking.
It is odd, being in this linguistic no man's land, even though I have tried it numerous times before. Yet in my adult years I no longer posses the brilliance and speed of a young mind. Thus eventually, I can never fully master the novel tongue, while the old slowly begins to disappear into a vocabulary abeyance.
Being multilingual is a blessing and a curse.
Still, my love for writing is always there, simmering in the background. I thoroughly enjoy putting down my thoughts into words, documenting my life in the process, even though very little life altering wisdom can be perceived in my reflections these days.
Today I do more living than thinking.
Yet simultaneously, it comes across as unsettling.
By the time summer reaches its peak, I will once again see the love of my life temporary leaving me. Having tried it before, I know what to expect - many sleepless nights, torment, anguish and longing. Even though our forthcoming separation might be nothing like the last one, I brace myself for the hardship of yet another set of four months without him by my side, while I will try to find the courage deep within to be the woman he needs me to be, allowing him to fully concentrate on what he has been trained to do.
Having lived on my own more than half a life time I have no problems with solitude. In fact, I am very peculiar about the people I associate with and I rather be alone than in crowds.
With this said though, never before have I had such a desire to constantly crave the company of another human being, as I do my husband's. I covet his close proximity, his touch and caress. I miss him intensely even when we are apart for a day.
"You're different with him. He moves, you move. Like magnets..." - an excerpt from a dialogue in the Twilight Saga series, no other set of words could more adequately describe my own romance.
Looking back, I conclude that so many years in my past have come and gone, melting together into this undefinable span of time, vanishing into oblivion. I like to believe that these were not wasted, but served a purpose in their own right, becoming an intermission in my life, when days progress in slow pace and when my being did strive to renew itself, while in pursuit of my dreams.
I carry a few such years in my suitcase and will without any doubt encounter these in my future.
As I so perceptively perceived a couple of years ago, the period of the latest stagnation has passed and I have entered my personal golden age.
When - if - I once get the privilege to look back upon this part of my life, I will always remember it as one of the happiest. It will go down in my recollection as the most intense and vibrant.
I will always view it as the onset of my very own 'Age Of Aquarius'.