I grew up in a town in England which is known for the river it is on.
When I was in my early twenties, I had a beautiful summer with a Spanish girl who lived on a boat. We were both really young and it was never going to last, but she was an inspiration. I rented for a couple of years, but I knew that as soon as I could afford it I was buying a boat to live on.
A few days after my 26th birthday I found the boat of my dreams. It was a beautiful, but very spartan existence. I woke up in a different place each day, and met all sorts of humanity. I did odd bits of part-time work, and an Open University degree.
It was great for a while. But in the end, it started to feel a bit aimless. And I saw lots of people who were like me, but a few years older, and a lot of them seemed to be quite bitter.
I put down in a town where I knew no-one one winter, and found a permanent mooring. Without meaning to, I put down roots.
After a couple of years, I met someone nice. She was nothing like other people I'd gone out with. Every other partner I'd ever had before seemed a bit, well, silly by comparison. It became obvious I'd been chasing after the wrong thing all my life.
She liked me, but not the boat. And we wanted to live together. Shortly after my 38th birthday, I sold my boat, and used it as the deposit to buy our little house.
Now, I have a boring job, and lots of bills. I have to share my life with someone, and after years of doing exactly what I pleased that can be hard. But you know what? I am really pleased I'm not living that idyllic sounding life anymore. It turns out you do need a bit of external pressure, and to be a part of a wider thing.
And I like the mains!
Submitted April 19, 2018 at 11:07PM by iefuastrjrawfieb589 https://ift.tt/2qLqKs6
