Organising. Changing. Trying. Creating.
Life moves too fast and I want to hit the 'SLOW DOWN!' button so I can actually achieve things this year rather than letting it all escape beneath me.
My masters. My career. 'Building' something for myself, and then leaving this country. Searching, hoping. I've no ties to keep me here, so I want to be free. I want to experience the rest of the world. Bungay is a very small world to live in.
I can only go at a certain speed when it comes to sorting my life out. If I try push myself into fifth gear, I'll never even get going. Start with turning on the engine and rolling in first gear, and let the momentum pick my feet off the ground a bit.
In a month, I want to be in third gear.
Wednesday 9 April 2014
Wednesday 2 April 2014
Part Two
I have feelings for someone that I should not have feelings for. I'm angry with myself for having let this happen (again) and I don't know what to do about it. Last night was a classic example.
I went to the pub with Ben. And I only had £6 on me, and refused to get any more out, knowing that I shouldn't stay out too late or drink too much. He needed food, so we left the pub at 11 and hit the kebab. I may have stolen most of his cheesy chips. And then we went upstairs to eat them, and Henry came home. And the three of us stayed up til 2am drinking. Ben slept on my bed, for some reason, and left at 6.30 this morning.
I should have gone to bed. I shouldn't have eaten those chips. And I didn't need to drink sailor jerrys and coke; my teeth feel awful today and my head is a bit woozy.
I know that he doesn't see me that way, and I know that he's never going to show any affection or intimacy whilst we live together. I just find his presence, his persona, to be addictive.
This might be one of those fleeting things. This might be something I've forgotten about in two weeks. But something tells me it's different. Something inside me is desperate for my impatient heart to not give up. I have no idea what any of this means, but for now all I can do is wait, listen, and maybe even hope.
I went to the pub with Ben. And I only had £6 on me, and refused to get any more out, knowing that I shouldn't stay out too late or drink too much. He needed food, so we left the pub at 11 and hit the kebab. I may have stolen most of his cheesy chips. And then we went upstairs to eat them, and Henry came home. And the three of us stayed up til 2am drinking. Ben slept on my bed, for some reason, and left at 6.30 this morning.
I should have gone to bed. I shouldn't have eaten those chips. And I didn't need to drink sailor jerrys and coke; my teeth feel awful today and my head is a bit woozy.
I know that he doesn't see me that way, and I know that he's never going to show any affection or intimacy whilst we live together. I just find his presence, his persona, to be addictive.
This might be one of those fleeting things. This might be something I've forgotten about in two weeks. But something tells me it's different. Something inside me is desperate for my impatient heart to not give up. I have no idea what any of this means, but for now all I can do is wait, listen, and maybe even hope.
Tuesday 1 April 2014
How I Met...
… everyone we know.
Something ended today. I'm a little sad, but have had lots of time to accept and prepare for this moment, so my lightly beating heart could read all of what it needed to today.
I want to tell our stories.
At the latest reunion, everything felt a little different. Like the piece of string that holds us all together was pulled taught, under strain, and the knots and frays were slightly more visible.
It's always a moment, at one in the morning, when I think about the end game. How do I want that night to end, and where, in the distant future, do I see all this going?
The problem with the How I Met Your Mother finale is that Robyn and Ted aren't supposed to end up together. We got told that in series 1. So my reflections of TV in real life have to be portrayed as 'how TV should be'. We don't end up with the girl we saw from across the bar and had to speak to right away and didn't stop giving up after 50 fucking years.
But we do all remain friends. And I love my friends, and I love seeing my friends, and sometimes I wish I could put life on hold and pretend like we're all still at uni and play inflataBall and just drop everything.
My life doesn't stop. Neither does theirs. Macina and Emily, Will, Nathan, Al. Sophie, Martin, Paul. Coates. Matt and Danni. Maria. Jesus, Maria's life doesn't stop. And our worlds keep turning whether we're in the gravity of one another or not. It's hectic and crazy, and the brief moments when we can see each other are usually equally hectic and crazy. The peaceful thought is that one day, we'll all be settled in to our lives, and we'll have partners and rings and babies and weird other grown up things. And we'll be able to afford hotels and not have to endure Al's snoring. And that's the end game for me. Getting there; having those friends from uni, from high school, and from now. I've just got to get there.
I also want to remind someone of a pact we made in a train station on one of the most heartbreaking days of my life. We will sit down, in a year, in ten years, I don't know. We'll sit down and drink tea, eat custard creams, laugh at me polishing grapes. And christ, will we have a lot to talk about. That's our end game.
Hopefully he'll return soon, but at the moment I'm missing a friend. Jen took my Number One away because she's bizarre and doesn't trust him with anyone and potentially cut off his balls and his them in her handbag. And I hate it, because I miss him.
I just hope that he's the only one I lose. I could understand another girl having issue with me, but I equally hope that there is enough trust and enough knowledge of all our lives together to know that these friendships are golden.
I'm just hoping that I can escape in May.
Something ended today. I'm a little sad, but have had lots of time to accept and prepare for this moment, so my lightly beating heart could read all of what it needed to today.
I want to tell our stories.
At the latest reunion, everything felt a little different. Like the piece of string that holds us all together was pulled taught, under strain, and the knots and frays were slightly more visible.
It's always a moment, at one in the morning, when I think about the end game. How do I want that night to end, and where, in the distant future, do I see all this going?
The problem with the How I Met Your Mother finale is that Robyn and Ted aren't supposed to end up together. We got told that in series 1. So my reflections of TV in real life have to be portrayed as 'how TV should be'. We don't end up with the girl we saw from across the bar and had to speak to right away and didn't stop giving up after 50 fucking years.
But we do all remain friends. And I love my friends, and I love seeing my friends, and sometimes I wish I could put life on hold and pretend like we're all still at uni and play inflataBall and just drop everything.
My life doesn't stop. Neither does theirs. Macina and Emily, Will, Nathan, Al. Sophie, Martin, Paul. Coates. Matt and Danni. Maria. Jesus, Maria's life doesn't stop. And our worlds keep turning whether we're in the gravity of one another or not. It's hectic and crazy, and the brief moments when we can see each other are usually equally hectic and crazy. The peaceful thought is that one day, we'll all be settled in to our lives, and we'll have partners and rings and babies and weird other grown up things. And we'll be able to afford hotels and not have to endure Al's snoring. And that's the end game for me. Getting there; having those friends from uni, from high school, and from now. I've just got to get there.
I also want to remind someone of a pact we made in a train station on one of the most heartbreaking days of my life. We will sit down, in a year, in ten years, I don't know. We'll sit down and drink tea, eat custard creams, laugh at me polishing grapes. And christ, will we have a lot to talk about. That's our end game.
Hopefully he'll return soon, but at the moment I'm missing a friend. Jen took my Number One away because she's bizarre and doesn't trust him with anyone and potentially cut off his balls and his them in her handbag. And I hate it, because I miss him.
I just hope that he's the only one I lose. I could understand another girl having issue with me, but I equally hope that there is enough trust and enough knowledge of all our lives together to know that these friendships are golden.
I'm just hoping that I can escape in May.
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