Wednesday, 13 August 2014

The addiction in check

This is not our tent or location - yet. This is just the feeling ... :)

I think sometimes that the General disallows me to stray out of his sight, because he is aware of how lightly my addictions sleep. You give me a beach screen, a bottle of water, camera and an inflatable boat and there is now way of knowing where I will drift. I am always on the verge of walking, always, const5antly combating the siren call of the road and adventure. Being so madly in love with him is the only anchor. Not even a concern for my safety, not even what would become of my things should I ever return, these things don't sway me enough. I am always standing on the doorstep. Even on almost every doggie walk I take, when we get to the point when we turn around, I think: but no, I would keep walking. 

This is why, I think, the General refuses to let me bring my hiking shoes or my phone or give me money or lets go of my passport or even voted for keeping home the Marki camera. He knows that every bit of encouragement from objects I associate with adventure only put another drop of oil onto the fire that is already burning. the problem is, it has ever been, that I don't want to walk AWAY from things - I don't do it 'cause I must or should or want to or am unhappy. Has nothing to do with it. It's just who I am. An anchored down drifter. Ever propelled. I am able to start walking naked and blindfolded. Put shoes, a wind jacket on me and give me my camera and I will be ripped down the middle. 

My husband is a very clever man. He knows JUST the right way to remove the temptation for long enough to distract me and the danger to pass. This is not a coincidence. The first one really fucking sucked at this and I was miserable. Under his reign, I actually walked too much.He managed to ruin my love for him AND my love for walking.

The General always buys me the best trekking shoes. He just ties together the shoelaces, so i don't stray too far.