There’s a sense of gradual internal acceptance that I really have left my old life. It’s gradually dawning on me that I’m not dreaming, interloping or on holiday. I live here.

It’s not that I’ve left the old life behind, more that I’ve taken a large step in a direction. I think it’s a positive direction. But I think that I left a little bit of myself there. 17 years in a place will do that. I think i’m realising that I have to experiment with how I adapt and change as a person.

I don’t feel like there’s a ‘bit’ missing from me, but I do feel like I don’t quite belong here yet. I don’t even really miss the old life, but that sounds harsh, I actually don’t think I’ve had time to miss the old life. I think the cat feels the same way. We’re different now, me and the cat.

It feels a bit like I’m in a parallel universe, and the other me is still there living my old life. And there’s this other me here, doing all these other new things – perhaps soon we’ll merge back into one – like Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors. I hope I don’t have to have my hair cut short and died blonde.

Perhaps it’s just the settling of the dust, or feeling the loss of a community of people and a place that made me feel comfortable. In the long run I know it’s good, actually even now it’s good, but I feel like I am at a turning point – now is the time to define myself. Not to others, just internal re-alignment I suppose. Slight tweaks to the operating system will be occurring, please restart to implement these changes.