Flattened

The indyref was 5 weeks ago.

Friday the 19th wasn’t a nice feeling. I travelled into work in a low ebb. No one on the train I was on was in high spirits, no one else seemed too up or happy from what I saw walking through the city centre either.

Another day, but the day after a No.

The previous night I had slept through the results programmes, I had hoped, wished for a yes.

I got the news next morning, I had woken early, checked the TV, everything done and dusted. Removed the yes posters from the window, sighed.

I had a medical thing that Thursday in the afternoon too, it took a fair bit out of me and I was tired on the Friday.

I think it took longer to sink into my head than it should have. ‘They won’

What did it mean?

For me, it was a mix of disappointment and shame. Was there anger? Maybe if ‘Hell mend us’ covers that. I feared what was coming. I wondered if 1.6 million of us was enough to see change. We hadn’t learned from 79.

We voted no.

In our opportunity to have independence we voted ourselves down. Made our Country into a Region.

When given a choice, a majority chose Britain.

The following weeks showed nothing of the vow, a Westminster recall to fly warplanes over Iraq.

Panic over Ebola.

ukip ukip ukip.. Party Conferences..

What about the vow?

It was well down Britain’s priorities. Know your place.

In any election, we rely on democracy, we accept the result. My fellow North Britons voted for the union.

55%-45%

To continue the fight?

It’s a different fight. Get the maximum possible settlement from the Smith Commission.

Keep talking, keep looking at the good things yes did, keeping thinking.

And plan. The 2015 General Election isn’t that far away.

Day to day lives continue as do memories.

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