Finding a new path

I spent a long whiles here today, looking at this view I love, takeaway coffee in hand, thinking many a thing through.
Even during covid I managed to lead some treks, to have a 'reason' to be here, something to tie my sense of self to a place I love. I've been an International Mountain Leader for a decade. Yes I could theoretically work in so many other places, but it's always been here that my heart brought me. 
But this year, as the Brexit Withdrawal Agreement Protocol came to an end it has simply become impossible, a thing gone, something that meant an immense amount to me, was a large part of my recovery after the loss of Mum, gone, just so foolish lied to Little Britain could dream of an empire again.

Our 'deal' out here was always that my work would pay for the apartment, I thought I'd spend my dotage here, but now with neither possible the cost of an apartment we can seldom use needs to be looked at in a grown up way. Not my greatest strength.
Currently we're looking at renting it out more, but of course that then makes it less a home.

And more than that, I need to find a way to accept being a tourist, not feeling quite the sense of purpose or camaraderie I've always had here, losing the few simple perks that made it feel special. Many of my friends that would be here for Winters and Summers are already fading away. Those few with a magical EU passport often embarrassed how it highlights the utter stupidity of our loss, everything recast in a different light.

There's an oft quoted mountaineering truism: the mountains will still be here next year. But now I have to ask, will I?