31. Loneliness

20/11/08

I'm in the barn, on my own. Since we found out it was just the two of us here, we've done everything together, worked together.

But today B. was determined to start looking through the houses and I just couldn't bring myself to do it, even though I know we have to, can't just keep waiting for something to happen. He was annoyed with me. Says I should wake up, realise things have changed, that I can't worry about the feelings of people who left us for dead sealed up in our house. Says they won't be back.

But what if they decide the area's clear, open it up again? We'll be looters, trespassers and no one will feel comfortable with us again.

B. laughs. Typical of me to think of niceties when our lives are at stake. I shout that we're alive and we've got food and we'll be out soon. He shouts back: I'm a fool; he's going to get us out. And slams the door.

And then I cry. And I feel so lonely - all the people that I miss crash around me. How are they? What are they doing? And I feel the ache they must feel, thinking that I'm dead. And I cry because they don't have to feel that and I can't tell them. I imagine flowers up against the wall, final messages that didn't need to be written. It's all so stupid and I'm powerless.

But B. will get us out. He's not going to sit here like me. He's going to find something to help us. He's going to find a way out.

So I pull myself round and do my part. Start the 10 minute walk to the farm.
I'm greeted by goats jumping up at the side of the pen, they make me feel less lonely although I know it's only food they want from me. They indulge me in my need to pat their warm necks. The chickens are already scratching around in their coop - a miracle recovery. We're going to have to find them somewhere bigger to live. They're beginning to look more like adult birds, I'm wondering how many will be hens. I'd love to get fresh eggs.

I always go to the cattle last. They're my favourites. I still worry every time that we'll have lost one, but they keep getting stronger. Now they stand I know we've two heifers and a young bull. Goodness knows what will happen when he grows up. But by then, he'll be back with people who know what they're doing.