Our survival mode

As I look at the weather forecast, it hits me. This isn’t the first time, though, but since time moves SO fast for us for the past year, every time I’m seeing the date it’s shocking.

It’s July. And soon it’s gonna be August and then after that it’s gonna be autumn. Most people would think this way, that time flies, but I’m very sure they’re unaware that when you haven’t really been anywhere and you spend your days doing EXACTLY the same things every day, that when you live like a prisoner, there’s a new level of perception of time.
Today was a day I wasn’t good at fooling myself. When you are in your survival mode, you somehow have to keep forcing yourself to live in the very present. Constantly. And if your thoughts linger for too long, it gets even tougher to bring yourself back to the now. Today I kept finding things that would either bring me back to the past or even worse: to a perfect life that’s far from our reality.
I sat on our bed. My man brought his hand to mine and put me onto my feet next to him, holding me into his arms. I asked him a question: “What would you do if I suddenly didn’t exist anymore?”. He was quiet for a short while, but he would tear up a bit. “I don’t know……..” He knew I was aiming for him to admitting that whatever he would do after I was gone, could be done NOW as well. We stood there for a few minutes.
Our Fannar sat next to us. I looked at him and I realised once more that a whole year of his short life was ruined.
We went downstairs to spend a few minutes in the sun until mother would return. I asked him once again what he would do if I decided to not live anymore. He would say that he would definitely not be here anymore. I knew that was gonna be his answer and I knew my answer to his: “But why don’t we just do that now? Would you rather be unhappy together now and happy alone than being happy together now and not be alone…?” He said he would risk failing at whatever was to come if he had to do it alone (because what other option was there..?), than failing when trying it together. Because what if we had to RETURN to mother’s place again..? Returning would be worse than staying. That would be the end of BOTH our lives…..
Mother returned from walking her dogs and we went upstairs again to my childhood bedroom to spend a few hours here (as we do every day) to cook and have dinner. As soon as we were back in my room, things were back to our new normal: we had an ice cream and talked about the usual stupid daily things.

Because what other option was there….