Why am I here?

For that matter, why is anyone here? What is the purpose of life? T had asked me this a couple of months back and I had been sure of my response back then. I had said that we live for small day to day pleasures, the tiny highs and lows, the learning of a skill, the reading of a book, the happiness and sorrow of relationships and the bigger pursuit of blissful satisfaction through smaller, everyday events. I know I was very sure of what I said then and at one level it still makes sense. But only just about. Because I am lost just now, lost for a meaning, a purpose, a goal post. Increasingly the irritating question is beginning to eat into the assurance - the question that pales everything else into insignificance - What exactly am I doing here?

The answers in my head are making but little sense. A, my dear wonder drug, has stopped trying to rationalise this mood and gives me hundreds of hugs in one day, hoping to almost physically squeeze the negativity out. What would I do without him, my one super blessing.

I am hoping the upcoming bank holiday will help restore some peace and quiet. We're planning to get away from it all and hide ourselves in a tiny apartment by the river in Oxford. Five days to go...

Its nice and sunny, and spring's visible charms have smitten everyone. Can't wait to be bitten by the happy springtime bug.