Just over four years ago, I wrote this post as part of a longer reflection on life in general. What I didn't/couldn't know at the time is that I was writing about this May, and this June. (I have to be careful, I've started to quote myself...) 

"In May, I may get the call I've been waiting for. In May, I may be spontaneous, and renew my old friendship with impulse. In May, I may stop kidding myself, take off my rose-tinted glasses and squint at the blindingly obvious. In May, I may wake in one city and go to sleep in another. All these things may happen in May. But even if they don't, at least it will soon be June." 

As someone once said, life can be lived only forwards, but understood only backwards. And so we head into July, with a strange feeling that's perilously close to being contentment.