Who's around here anymore? 

I went sailing. Coming from the Tasman into the Southern myself and the mate had a problem the captain ignored, and it's not why I left but it's not not on the list. Came home, to fall in love. I had surgery and she looked after me and we shared a bed because the painkillers gave me nightmares and sometimes I woke needing something I couldn't easily wake to get. Loose reasons. We shared a bed because we gave ourselves easy reasons. I kissed her.

It's legal now even though it shouldn't need to be. When I asked for advice on the local trans forum they all said that actually it's real easy to switch your birth certificate, like we're a single country with a single law on the matter. I was born over east, and it was only the plebiscite that means I can ask her to marry me, and have it be a real question. I asked her before I asked her to date me. I've known, since I met her, that I wanted her in my big house by the sea. So I'm going to do that. I have a plan.

I miss having space. I miss being outside. Look at the mountain to see the weather coming over the hill. Once it's dark the job is done. Sanding and painting and ropework and rig checks and training. Things with your hands where the results are immediate. Repetitive without being tedious. Nine months I was there, and I loved it. Still dream about it. Nine months in a job made up of so many things I want forever, and six months I've been at my current job, which is a desk job, which is dull, it is reading on my lunch break, and office-wide emails, a morning commute.

I am trying to readjust how I think so I focus on the other things: there are many hours afterwards. I am going to find running shoes that work for my feet and get back into that. There are horses. I am trying to write. I stopped. I gave up. It is difficult to be out of habit. I miss drawing, but I am no longer practiced and the last I remember is being so good my teacher wondered if, later, I'd consider the Archibald. And now none of my lines go where I want them to. Difficult to get back into something that is hard now, when it used to be easy.

Focus on the good things. Focus on the good things and focus on the get-through. Bills have to be paid. A wedding. A holiday. Horses, dogs. A small garden. There's more to the future than this.