I arrived at pilates on Saturday lit like a Christmas tree, despite the fact that I'd had an afternoon with Berry's baby girl who is, in short, a little tub of love.
Ragdoll was on her way out as I was heading in, and was that most welcome of sights; a friendly face in what had seemed a hostile and aggressive past 48 hours.
I can't really go into details right now, except to say that I have reached a point of decision, and it's always that same decision I struggle with, the decision to change, to move on to something else.
I had a good class, one that made me aware of the strength that is slowly but surely starting to seep into me. I thought I'd lost it all to my absence of the last six weeks.
Sometimes what you think is a new beginning isn't any such thing. It's just the bridge to the real thing.
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