I do not like change.
My OCD does not like change.
Yesterday, my sister left for University. Unlike me, who chose to live at home whilst studying, but that's an entirely different blog entry, she has moved out of our house and gone to live miles away; perhaps an hour and a half by train.
I've had a year to prepare for this eventuality. I've even known where she's been headed for about six months. I've had plenty of time to prepare myself for the goodbyes and spending days without her. So why is it so difficult to accept that she's gone?
I've not had a brilliant day. My poor friend has sprained her ankle, and I must have nearly knocked her off her crutches about three times so that I didn't have to walk on the darker blue strips at the sides of the corridors in the hospital. It's at times like that that I wish I was normal!
I have, however, not cried since this morning. So I guess that's a start?