I live in a little town beside the sea; a grand old lady of a suburb who, having not heard of Botox or bodyguards, was running deeply to seed. Until a group of 3rd generation residents started revitalising her – but not in the way of gentrification.
There are still students, surfers, start-up families and pensioners living beside business owners and designers.
There are also beach-walking outties, and it’s their eyes I can’t meet – not out of guilt or disgust, but because I’ll see the person inside those eyes, and then I’m fair game for all kinds of complications.
It’s how I’m wired – outward trappings often just feel like obstacles I have to clamber over before I can shout: “Hey, anyone home? I’ve brought cake/wine/books – let’s talk.”
I’ll end up taking responsibility for everyone’s welfare and making my family crazy, so I have to just look away. Wish I had more to give 😦