Duchess of the Shire

The sun is shining and the crickets are chirping but for some reason my thoughts are otherwise occupied. 


I do usually suffer from an overtly sanguine temperament; my happy disposition is what many people say is their favourite quality of mine (for sure it could not be my decision making skills!) but today I am feeling rather gloomy. No, that has too many negative connotations. I suppose the word I'm looking for is pensive, contrary to my more regular lackadaisical approach to looking before I leap!


It's not the Shire I'm pining for, nor my darlings Ladies - I miss them no more nor less than usual - but I wonder about the future and my place in it. I'm curious to know out of the acquaintances I've made in the Antipodes who will last the distance of twelve-thousand miles, and an unknown time-frame.

I cannot pretend I don't want to return to the Antipodes; I feel that I'm half way to making a home here. I know I already have a life here, but I'm still in Limbo, deciphering the smallest details and ignoring the bigger picture. I need something concrete to make me want to stay here. I have family here but I cannot stay with them forever. I have friends here but no one who knows all my secrets. My heart is floating along while I flounder, afraid to make any commitment and to ask anyone for any more knowing that I only have three months left.


The English gentleman has been rather scarce this past week, both of us lead busy lives and are too stubborn to be the first to back down! I also don't know what I want from him. He started off being more than perfect but now I've seen a slightly different side to him I'm not sure I want to continue down this road... 


Plus it seems that the Captain's new lover was nothing more than a ruse. I bumped into him the other night and as per usual my throat closed up and the only way to ignore the feelings I still have for him was to drink my sorrows into oblivion. Although, to be fair to him he was, as always, the sweetheart that I fell in love with. 


Sometimes I wish he wasn't the man that he is; that after all this time I could see through the caring façade and see a flaw, even a single one, which would make me feel better about losing him. But no. He is nothing but smiles, even when I get angry (though it's at myself, not at him) and he is careful to keep me at arm's length so I don't expect any more from him. And I don't. I know I've lost him. 


I'm smiling at the dappled light around me. Maybe he does have a flaw. He doesn't give second chances. Not that I deserve one, but if I were him I'd have taken me back... And no doubt have got hurt all over again. How can I call self-preservation a flaw? I know my flaws, for there are many, but my worst is my inability to fall out love.





D. S.