One of the things that has really stuck with me about Thirty But Seventeen over the years is that the heroine Seo-ri described her post-coma existence, where she had no stability or direction, as her life’s “intermission”. Eventually, the intermission would end, and her life would go on again.
I think these last six months were my intermission. It was painful to try and imagine the future – as far as I was concerned, I didn’t have one – so I was convinced I would be stuck in my torturous situation forever. But now that I have a full-time job on the horizon, the future is opening up again, and I can imagine all the wonderful things coming my way, like:
A place to live that’s just mine
Full of all my things, finally in one place
My clothes and books and treasures
Accessible at all times
Money to spend
Going to the cinema and the theatre
Visiting friends around the country
Eating out at my favourite restaurants
Taking holidays
Time that is just mine
To spend finishing my novel
Experimenting with recipes
Watching all the dramas on my list
Exploring my new neighbourhood
Resting, finally
And the possibility of being alone with myself, and liking it

Love, February