A feeling of dispossession and rootlessness took hold of me, thrived in me, putative but vigorous, and it was only once I had ceased to house it and actually brought it to life that I saw it was merely a phantom, a construction. I had given, it seemed, concrete expression to my grief at the fact that I could no longer live the life that I had been living. I had moved away because I thought I no longer belonged where I was.
