The Sharp Knife of a Short Life

I can't put into words the last month of my life.

29 days ago I awoke to a call from my best friend, a conversation I will never forget.

And I went straight home. I got off the island keeping me safe and ventured back into the land that broke me once before. And I cried, and hugged, and held their hands, and together we remembered.


It's impossible to remember your own beliefs when something so cruel rips through your world. My ideal that the universe has a plan for us all, and that everything therefore happens for a reason, seems ridiculous, a mockery of the 20-something years they each had on this planet.


Seeing a coffin that isn't the same size as a person makes death and his power so much more real.

Seeing a family grieve without being able to bury their son makes the power of death so much more destructive, almost like he is laughing at them.


But I won't stop doing what I left Norfolk to do. I can't stop living my life, I can't turn back time and ask the Universe to take me instead of them, so I must continue. Others have stopped, their lives crumbled, their situations upturned. I hope to help them, to be there for them, but I can only do so much from this island.


And so we weep and we reminisce and we will never be the same again.




After everything I just want to hold the hands of the two boys I love the most in the world and beg that they never let go. I know I can't ask that of them; and I know that eventually one will let go. That knowledge just makes me squeeze their hands even tighter.

Coming Up For Air

Something Martin once wrote was called 'Don't Forget to Breathe', and I kept telling myself that. In the good and the bad moments, remember your lungs, your life, your surroundings.

I've gone. Disappeared, left it all, in 10 days I packed up my world (and left only a few boxes for my parents to store behind). Now, a new journey, a new adventure.


Things are clearer here. They make sense, they tick away, they work. My head works. My brain and legs and heart work too, and I love feeling alive and free again.

I just miss the boys I left behind. I keep having dreams about Luke, about still dealing with stuff from the flat. And I feel a little lost from not seeing Ben in such a long time. But all in due course.

This too shall pass. Just, remember to breathe.

Keep Up With My Love

Video bloggers, or vloggers, are quite a phenomenon at the moment, and I have four people to whom I subscribe, who are all linked: Tom Fletcher, lead singer (and the adult one) of McFly, Giovanna Fletcher, author and wife of Tom, Carrie Hope Fletcher, author, singer, actor and younger sister to Tom, and Pete Bucknell (I think thats his surname!), who also sings and mucks about and is Carrie's boyfriend. It sounds weird, that the four of them all make videos and put them on youtube and I watch every single one, but its a comfort, a habit, and their lives fill me with hope.

The fletcher family is very talented, and their songs (and projects) keep my head buzzing with ideas, with inspiration, and with general warmth. Carrie's songs are stunning and I wish I had an ounce of her skill:

There are a few things that I cannot watch without crying, and they are as follows:

1. That episode of Doctor Who, Doomsday. The end. Him not quite saying it. Just... breaks every inch of my face.

2. The One When Chandler Proposes to Monica. I know it's stupid, but from entering the apartment, the candles everywhere, all the way til the end when they are just dancing around the room, it gives me shivers. It's the argument I'll always use: Ross and Rachel aren't the best couple in friends, because they don't have that moment. That 'weak at the knees' moment.

3. Tom's Wedding Speech. 

A couple moments just hit me right in the feels. When he's singing to Carrie, about being grown up, I have this little squirm of 'cute older brother' which I have never really had in real life. Yes, I wish Tom was my big brother. No offence James... And when he is singing to Mario, and says 'but I love your daughter and you let me make her my wife and I'll love her for all my life' = tears. The idea that one day someone might ask my father for permission to marry me? Ridiculous. Hilarious. Horrifying. But this, this is magical, and I wish my family had that side to it. And lastly, at the very end, 'here's to my beautiful wife, from today for all my life': they are what I want my relationships, my marriage, to be. They are my ideal for marriage, for a family, for what making that commitment to each other should look like and feel like. I know its farfetched, but is it too much to ask for, for eternal happiness?

And I love both Carrie and Giovanna for their positive role model attitudes. They don't preacher anything, but they both have confidence and independence nailed, and they have very lovely bodies and faces without being the idyllic size, the industry standard, the picture-perfect poster girl that I have grown up looking at. And I now find myself, instead of searching for ways to lose weight, I'm searching for ways to be happy with what I look like. God bless the Fletcher family.

It might be worth noting that these, as well as many books and films and everything else, prove a useful distraction from real life and real people. One day I'll explain, but I'm not ready to yet.

I'm going to try to take all the negativity out of my life. 24 hours without complaining, smiling more, and trying to spread happiness and positivity. If I really push, I wonder what the universe will give me back...

Something is Missing

Back in the house of no emotion, and this time, something has changed. I'm so aware of the last time I lived here; scared of depression and the eeking loneliness that settles solemnly over Broome. Lost in thoughts I don't want to have, trying to keep my mind focused and therefore falling back into habits I wish I could shun; YouTube is the devil when it comes to my fanciful mind.

And whilst I ponder, it dawns on me that I miss the people who have made me stronger.

I miss Maria, I miss making memories and laughter with one of the greatest people I ever met. If anyone ever gave me strength, belief and hope, she tops that chart.

I miss the boys (and Newman), for the feeling of being surrounded by people with similar dreams. A collective ambition, a drive, a push we all force on each other - something I know associate with being a student.

I miss Matt all the time. I wish I knew how to fit into his life again.

I long for adventures, to go off where ever my feet take me and not think about reality, and not have to come back home to deal with debt and depression and disease.


Mostly, I miss the girl I've known for 10 years. It's complicated, and very hard to explain, but I miss the person who I knew in say April. And the last three times I saw her, she wasn't that person I knew inside out. She was different, and pulling away, and I don't miss the person she now is. I don't long to see her and talk to her and reconcile whatever problems we have, because I don't recognise the person she's become. But I do miss the old her and I wonder what the hell happened to that girl. I wonder what it is that changed, and I felt it in my gut, and now I guess I'll never know. I heard a line from a song that went "best friends forgive". At least I know that I did forgive her, and I told her that. The rest is her own doing.

Back to Oblivion

Listen to Finch and let all that anger out.

Think about Cornwall, and what future there might be beyond oblivion. I'll only know if I throw myself into it.

Finished Dexter. Not sure if it's going to get its own blog post... the ending is still making me angry.

Now watching Merlin. Gotta love a cheap BBC production.

Once Upon A Time. Now, I need to write a blog about that at some point. I've sort of had my head in the sand for a little while... but I think its safe to resurface now.

Using a sleeping app has made me really aware of my sleeping habits, but it breaks my dreams up, I forget them instantly. This must be rectified.

Dreams, and hopes, of what might happen in the next few months. Little things, like views from windows, and where to go jogging. Bigger things, like the hope of having a dog, or the wonderment of what people I will meet.

I did a shift at the Rumsey last night. I tried not to think about times, changed moments, people missing and what might have been - but I felt the ghost, feeling my presence, and knowing it was me. I wasn't just some bar girl it could scare, I was this haunted soul returning to the place I used to love and felt lost. And bless, the ghost left me be - but more because of the two ladies who stayed with me til the bitter end. Bless their souls.

No matter what job I do, I know I'll do my best, I'll work hard, I'll be nice and try make friends, and along the way I'll meet people who will inspire little stories, little pictures or moments inside my head, and that's the true aim. One day I'll communicate it all back, but for now, I need to live it, inhale it, and in each exhale, feel excited for taking the next breath.

Henry

Stop staying up to talk to me because you feel guilty. You feel guilty for being the one I fell in love with, so somehow you too should carry the burden to lessen my pain. Stop. It doesn't lessen the pain, it only lessens your guilt.

Stop making me feel fat and ugly. Stop making me feel unworthy of love or affection. Stop making me think that I may as well endure this self-indulgent hell than ever hope of loving again.

Stop trying to tell me there is no solution; thousands of people go through this all the time, its called a relationship.

Stop offering to move out, or not go out, or stay with your parents for prolonged periods. You changing your habits won't actually change my feelings, it will just help you by not having to deal with me.

Stop telling me you're not the right person to talk to. As far as I can see, you're the only person to talk to about this problem I have with being in love with my flat mate who also happens to be one of my best friends, and even when its described in detail to someone they'll still tell me that I've made this all up, its all in my head, and I should just get over it already.

Stop telling me to take extra tissues to bed at night, knowing how much weeping I'm likely to do. I wish I could show you the pints of tears that have ripped through my pride and dignity in the last year. I wish I could show you each night that you weren't there to magically sweep me away and talk me off the metaphorical cliff.

You don't love me back. You don't want me, and you probably don't need me either. So please stop feeling sorry for me when I'm breaking down. Please stop offering to have a talk when all I'm going to do is cry at you. Please stop giving me new, varied reasons to cry.


I just want to wallow in my own misery. I want to see how far down the rabbit hole this drug will take me, because I know I have to hit rocks before I can bounce back.

Unless you want to find new improved ways of turning me down, destroying my confidence and staining my pillow, can you please, please, just stop.

Tethered to Nothing

The in-between space, the gap between the chapters, the blank space after a cliff hanger.

I feel suspended in nothing; unmoving, dangling, teetering on the edge of last year but not quite falling into the future of the coming months.

Someone once told me that a culture, I think in Maria told me, so it might be Italians or Japanese, use the phrase 'look forward' the other way around. Their metaphor is that we are walking backwards, seeing the past, blind to the future. I've always thought its much more appropriate, and sensible. The only thing it lacks is the optimism of moving forward; the idea that you are moving 'on', you are getting better, levelling up, learning. I think that's why our culture describes it as forwards and backwards - we have to believe that there is more, there is progression, that forwards is further, its harder, its happier, its a greater sense of achievement, its a stronger sense of understanding.

I don't know which way I'm facing. I'm dangling off a cliff, slowly spinning in the wind.

Which way is up from here?

I'm excited for my holiday, for getting away for a few days to clear my head and sort through the piles of thoughts that have been gathering dust and tattered edges, as I've shuffled them, organised them, moved them around and then got them all out again for re-evaluation. Its fair to say that I over-think things.


I wish one of them would realise how much I need a win right now. How long its been, and how the little negatives have started to feel really heavy.

You're The One That I Want

Can you look into my eyes and tell me that I'm beautiful?

Can you promise me that you do love me, even if it's not in that way?

Can you hold my hand safely in yours, fingers wrapped around mine, and guide me to where I need to go?

I can't leave here, because I can't leave you. I'm addicted now; like a moth to flame.

It's sick, that I slightly enjoy my own heartache. Like a muse, I find myself writing more, reading more, watching, learning, listening more. Like a flower opening up to sunlight, and accidentally letting all the bees in. 

You know that scene from love actually, with Andrew Lincoln and Kiera knightly, and the big flash cards? He tells her that he loves her 'without hope or agenda'. I can't. I will always hope; it's my one weakness, my downfall in front of you, that I can't stop hoping.

Maybe one day you'll fall for me. Maybe it will be the same day I stop hoping. 

But whilst nothing changes, I won't make my feelings your burden or guilt. 

I will tell you that you are beautiful, and really mean it.

I will tell you that I love you,  in the best way.

I will hold your hand if you need a friend, and I will help you get where ever you want to go, because I want to go there too.

'Cos You're There For Me Too

I've always had a bit of an issue with the term 'best friend'. Like, one person who is better than all other people is the best. With that terminology, each person can only have one best friend. I have half a dozen, because they're all amazing at certain things. 

More so than usual, my best friends have been helping me keep my head, and my heart, in the right place. And thank god I have more than one; if I'd had to dump all the stuff I have onto one friend to help me with, they would not have been as strong as the five people around me have been instead.

Sam

You've done something which no one else could do: you've taken the one thing I couldn't untie myself from and you've burnt the knot for me. We already know that time and space doesn't change our friendship; now we have to remember how to be best friends in the same time and space. It feels weird sometimes, like we need to put in some boundaries or restrictions. I'd rather have you here than not; I know you help me more than you are an awful influence (especially on my liver), and it feels nice to be able to give you what I've got: supportive, stupid friends to escape work with.

Ben

I don't notice it until you go to work. I pretend that I have my life more in order than you but at the end of the day, you'll tell me to go to bed, to not have that last pint, to try judge life on more than the issues I have with my family. To know me inside out, to know when I need a hug and when I need a kick up the arse, and to know that no matter what, we'll always be best friends, in our superman and batman costumes, mucking around in the driveway, pretending to be superheroes.

Henry

I wanted, at 9am the other day, watching you munch your way through yesterdays rice, your shirt and cardigan clashing, your eyes red with alcohol and a lack of sleep, to tell you that I consider you one of my best friends. That I think the reason I still have feelings for you is because you are a much better person than most of the people I tend to fall for. But you're also an idiot who stays up all night just because someone else is still awake, will continue drinking even when he's too far gone, will refuse to eat even when he's hungry, will give up smoking just to start again, will drink tea in the middle of the night even though he can never get to sleep, and will always be here for me, and have a chat with me, and stay up late with me, even though you know that you are the problem.

Luke

We've had a weird year and a half, but its been the best decision I ever made and I have you to thank for that entirely. Not just for orchestrating yourself and Jack to move out, or just for finding this particularly magnificent pile of bricks and wood that we call home; not just for creating the feel of a family, having dinner together, watching films and making this place feel like a better version of home, or for doing your best to piss off everyone else in the flat when you come home: I mainly want to thank you for taking a chance and inviting me into this world too; its not something that is clearly visible to the others, but I'll always make us dinner, keep this place clean and be happy to see you home, because you're the one who gave me this chance in the first place.

Chris

Its surprising how much has happened between us. That first summer, at the locks, involved lots of working, lots of drinking as a group, and occasionally us doing random things together. And since then you've become a part of this flat, you've grown up and we've all changed in little ways and now I find myself entirely grateful for all the weird things that have happened between us, as I have an amazing friend to laugh with, sit comfortably with, and get drunk with, and on the odd occasion that I can't handle my drink, he deals with drunk, crying, ridiculous me. I can't thank you, or apologise, enough.

I love you guys. 

Separated by One Wall

I can't get over you.

Its a safe assumption that I won't be under you anytime soon either.

I feel myself getting wrapped around you; I can't get away long enough to get free. Like elastic, or a magnet, I just get drawn straight back.

Its the most frustrating thing. I have become bitter, twisted, angry at others who have similar issues. Somehow this bubbly feeling that happens, somewhere between my lungs and my liver; its broken me.

I wish I could hit delete on this emotion. I wish I could undo this year for the sake of not wasting my time with it. I wish I could just yell all these feelings at you and then run away for a month and not have to deal with you being so damn charming about everything.

I wish I could become 'default drunk laura' and just numb all emotions, sleep with random people and come out of the situation through the wrong door. That version of me has gone. I think she got lost in the maize.

I wish I didn't feel so disgusting when Duke tried it on with me. I wish I could just say 'yeah, why not' and wake up to another mistake.

I can't. I can't let other people in while you are in my head. I can't even let other people touch me while you are in my head. Im a helter skelter on your little finger because I don't know how to do anything now. Even a quick drink at the pub... well, leads to this.

Have me. Hurt me. Hate me. Hit me. Harass me.   Help me. Do something. Anything.

Because I can't live here, like this, for much longer.

Thank You

We say it a lot this time of year: as we pay for presents, as we hand over gifts and receive tokens of love, we thank those around us. How much do those two words mean, how far do they go, and what positivity do they spread in a world of finding negatives and disregarding our own faults just to criticize others?

I want to thank a few people. This isn’t Thanksgiving, I’m not jumping on the American tradition, I just think that if there is one time in the year to actually show some emotions and happiness and gratitude, its at Christmas.

Two people I want to thank for having the courage to engage in conversation. The silence I heard for too long created a certain ring, a shrill tinnitus at the back of my mind. The ringing has stopped and I’m so happy just to have opened over that conversation box again. I know the risks and the problems that might come along with it all, but thank you for risking it anyway. Thank you for wanting to hold on to our friendship too.

To the new family, the mish mash of kids and teenagers who I spend more time with than my actual friends and family, on the most part, you’ve made the small hell I might be in more bearable. You’ve made me laugh, made my job easier, and stuck up for me, and especially the two favorites, I can’t imagine a week at the Tree without your presence. Thanks for being on this journey with me.

Of all the friends, of all the people who have stuck their neck out for me or given me a hand when I was falling, there is one person I need to thank more than any one else. One person who has literally been a shoulder to cry on, he’s put up with my drastic mood changes and issues, had his ear talked off about all the struggles I couldn’t cope with and been company, even if its just a silent presence, the knowledge that he’s in the next room, and if I need to break down and freak out, he’s right there, and he’ll make me a tea and tell me to buck up, life could be worse.

To Matt and David, to Milo and Molly, and to Henry: thank you. It’s been a strange year, so here’s to next year being bigger, better, and brighter.