My time in Tallinn has come abruptly to an end, only a few days after I returned.
I am sad. Despite the fact that this is my blog, and that it has always been a personal blog, since those initial days of moaning about PMS and singledom and loneliness, I have found myself making it less and less personal over the past year or so. This was out of consideration for someone else — not because I wanted to. And although I have never been the type to disclose all the juicy details and names and addresses, I have missed pouring out my innermost thoughts and emotions here. I hadn’t realised just how much of myself I’d been gradually cutting away and trying to hide.
That stops now. Anyone who doesn’t like that is under no obligation to keep reading, after all. This is my blog — a fact I seem to have forgotten. And so I can tell you, my readers, that I am sad and disappointed and deeply, painfully hurt right now. That will go. Been there, done that, know the drill. But right now, it’s crap. And if you’ve ever wondered what it might be like to end up heartbroken and melodramatic and alone in a foreign country, with all your hastily-packed bags (one of which is, erm, a large carrier bag) at your feet as you sit in the station and look cluelessly at the departures board, hoping for inspiration, well, this is going to be a good blog to keep reading!
Sort of adds to the adventure, I suppose. Everybody hurts sometimes, right? And better to be forced to think and plan and wonder where you’re going to sleep tonight than to lock yourself away for a month and drink vodka and sob. I s’pose.
I wanted to spend summer in Tallinn. I wanted to go to the Song Festival that I’d been looking forward to for a year. I wanted to explore more of this country I’ve grown to love. But I can’t, because it would be too painful now. So I’m on the first bus outta here, albeit with no real clue where I’m going or what I’m going to do.
Scared. Sad. Hurting. Angry. Confused. Worried.
But not done. Nope, not done yet.