I've begun to wonder if life could be looked at as simply a series of opportunities. If my life up until now can be pinpointed down to opportunities. If my future hinges on opportunities, and if I seize them.
Sometimes opportunities arise out of something planned, like going to a networking event and getting a job through someone you meet there. Often an opportunity comes that needs a bit of planning to see it through. But I feel opportunities in themselves have spontaneous, unplanned energy about them. Because you don't know what the outcome of them will be.
I'm seeing opportunities in everything. I pick up the download codes in Starbucks and as a result I've had the opportunity to discuss an absolutely beautiful and fantastic piece of music. Getting in contact with yet another alternative therapist is an opportunity to continue exploring my headache and ways to a possible cure.
Being asked to extend my contract by several months. Being invited onto a radio show by a random person on Twitter: an opportunity that I should never have hesitated over!
Australia has become more than a year working abroad. It's an opportunity to experience a different culture. It's the chance to see if I can sink or swim on my own. It's the possibility of making new friends. Of trying new things, seeing new places.
And it's also an opportunity to get as far away from the shit that's gone on in the last year or so.
The divorce, moving, my sister's illness, my dad's drinking, my mum's moving. Saying goodbye to the house that was my home for my entire adolescence and which I hated when I first moved into but grew to love.
And him.
I loathe sounding melodramatic over men. They are not the be all and end all, and I am not a broken-hearted damsel.
But having seen him last weekend, I'm surprised I didn't feel the pain of the break up a lot more. True, my legs were jelly when I got there, I could barely look at him most of the day, and every time he looked at his phone I wondered if it was her. But when I left I didn't feel the need to be complicit in the pleasantries. When I said I wouldn't see you again, I wasn't smiling because I was joking. I was smiling because I know now I don't need to see you again.
Maybe one day we'll be friends, he said. I just need time, I said.
I could look at Saturday as a missed opportunity. I could have said all the things I’ve wanted to say to him for months. All the times I've dreaded walking through London Bridge station in case I spot him - on his own or not- even when I'm walking through the station an hour before he would even get up.
I have to admit that 4 months after we went out separate ways, I still think about him every day. Wonder what he's doing, how he's feeling, who he's seeing... I wonder if he ever misses me like I miss him.
Oh my, for someone who loathes to melodramatic about men, I've devoted several paragraphs to one.
We were never going to last. I mean, he's so old! Just kidding. We saw an opportunity to get to know each other. At least we gave it a go for a bit, and had fun while we did.
The night before I last saw him in April, I applied for my visa for Australia. All I could think was that I wanted to get out of here.
But now it's more than just an escape. It's an opportunity to forget the person I am, and be the person I want to be. Perhaps I am placing too much on this. It might have become my new holy grail.
In the mean time, I hope I continue to see opportunities, and seize them. Next time I see that guy at work who I think is fit, I will say hi. It may come out all mangled as my mouth dries up and my brain switches into standby when I see him, but that's often the beauty of opportunities: you never know what will come from them.
I've passed up so many in my life. No more. You're gonna hear me roar. (Sorry, just had to get that in there ;D)
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