What love looks like

I’m not sure what’s going on with me at the moment. My sensory processing disorder is worsening. In my last post (Travelling) I mentioned how car travel is increasingly difficult. There are lots of other things too.

Next weekend is StitchFest down in Totnes, Devon. It’s one and a half to two hours away. I really want to go. I want to handle fibre before I buy it. I want to smell it. I want to soak up the atmosphere that such an event inspires.

I don’t know if I can actually do it… the traveling, walking in to two unknown venues, the lighting, the noise, being unexpectedly touched, flickering screens, low level spot lights…

I’ve been in tears trying to decide whether I should go, or not, or go, or not… Yes, I meant to write that twice.

What love is, dear reader, is Lovely Husband’s answer. I don’t have to decide until the day. If we get halfway there and I say I can’t go on, he’ll turn back. If I get to the door and I can’t go in, we’ll turn back. If I’m in there one minute, 5 minutes… we’ll turn back. To him I am not wasting his time, not wasting money on fuel, not wasting money on an entry fee… To Lovely Husband the important thing is that I get to try.