It is a strange irony that the thing we want most in life is often that which eludes us. The writer and feminist Rebecca Solnit says, “Often it is the desire between us and the object of desire that fills the space in between with the blue of longing.”
The protagonist in my debut novel, The Imposter, wrestles with the sensation that Solnit describes – that blue of longing. She travels on the top deck of the bus in the city where she lives, glancing into the cosy living room windows she passes, filled with seemingly happy families, and longs to be a part of one of them.
It wasn’t the struggles of parenthood I wished to share but the joys
I failed to notice how precious our little unit of two had been