So sick of it all...

I'm so sick of everything right now.

I mean, really - why does it all crash and burn at the same time??

First off, I'm hoping like hell I have PMT - either that or I'm just turning into a psycho bitch who can't control her emotions. Second, my best friend is getting slated for his blog post because someone (who hasn't read it) had their name in it and a completely different person has decided to print it off and go to the police... that's gonna really piss the police off, because it's petty and not even slanderous... but it's still upsetting my friend. Third (why am I thinking the word 'Hokage' after each of these?), I haven't been kissed since I was pinned in a car and not allowed out till I practically threw myself through the door... Fourth, our house is a fucking tip and I don't have the energy or the enthusiasm to do anything about it. Fifth, I can barely kick myself out of bed these mornings - all I want to do is hide under the quilt till the world goes away. Sixth (still thinking Hokage), I've not attended lectures for over a month. Yeah. Ouch. Seventh, I'm totally out of sync with my best mate again.

I could probably go on. In fact, all I want to do right now is complain about everything.
It all seems so dark and dismal again!
And I am sick to the back teeth of the word FAIL!!! I mean - why do people feel the need to say it? Fail. That's all I do lately, and all anyone says to me (exaggeration there, but shhhh, I'm ranting)!! It's as if there's this whirlpool of failure just sucking at me 24/7 and I can't get out of it!
I have no money. I have no aspiration. I'm running out of hope too!

The thing is, all I want - all I'm craving like an addict - is to be held by someone who loves me. I miss feeling wanted in that way. I kinda managed to fool myself into thinking certain people had those feelings for me - but they turned out to be lust instead. Lust isn't love, and I swear if someone calls me sexy tonight I'm liable to deck them. The violence level has kicked up a notch lately - I reckon it's hormonally induced.
It's like I'm suddenly having to fight myself to be who I want to be. Actually biting my tongue (or kicking myself when I don't), wanting to wash my brain out due to all the stupid innuendo's that keep coming out of my mouth, wanting to just gag myself to stop all the complaining that keeps falling from my lips!

Worst of all I'm having to correct myself constantly.
These little slips keep coming out. Not just the normal "Pancreas/appendix" kinda slip. I mean name slips too...
For instance, when I think "Luke" instead of "Libor"... and then stop in my tracks so fast people must think I've walked into an invisible wall. I hate how much I'm thinking about Luke again too.
I mean, none of it is anything interesting anymore. It's things like the games he'd play, or the little dances he'd do to make people laugh, or the way he walked, or the way he frowned. I'm starting to realise just how much of my life for the past few years has been intertwined with him. No matter how much you want to break from something like that, it's still a huge part of you.

He has a girlfriend now.

Good for him.
Better luck this time - you know?

Makes you think though, doesn't it? When an ex gets with someone new.
It makes you think about whether they compare them to you, and if so what that person has more of (or less of) than you. When he says 'I love you' does he still think of all the times he said it to me? Will there ever be a time when a boy says "I love you" to me and I don't see his face?
The thing I really hope is that she isn't like me. I hope there's nothing that makes him smile about her that I used to do... because that's kinda weird. Like "I used to love you, but it didn't work out, this person is very similar to you - I love them now." Yeah, see how weird that would be? Yeah. That's what I'm scared of.
I don't honestly know the new girl, and with the amount of contact Luke and I have lately I'm not likely to meet her any time soon.

The thing is, I don't have that special someone to snuggle up with and kiss - it's true - but I wouldn't trade what I have for that. It's worth not hearing the words "I love you" or having a kiss goodbye every day just to have what I do.
I may sound delusional, and maybe I am... but that's just the way it is.
I'm not happy at the moment, but the people in my life make everything worth while. I wouldn't give up what I have with any of them for all the money - or all the love - in the world. 'Cause lets face it - that's what happens. You give up your friendships to a huge degree when you get in a relationship. You don't loose the friendship, but it changes. It has to, to allow enough room for the new love...

I kinda dread some of my closest friends getting into relationships (well, not Jodie, because she's so level headed and straight I don't think she'd know how to let go of her friends) because I might loose them a little.
Selfish.

Is it selfish to want more (or less) from someone than they want from you?

I mean, not to want  it, because you can't help your feelings. I mean when you want it in a more 'demanding' or maybe 'open' way? Like, when you try to get that from them?
For instance, is it wrong to try and force a friend not to hug you too much? Is it wrong to be harsh to them in order to make them want less from you? Is it wrong to try and get more hugs from a friend than they want to give?
I reckon there must be a happy balance somewhere in the middle... but I've learnt these past few years that feelings are never a 'balance' between two people who want something different.
If one person wants more, it can go so so so so so so wrong.
Some people are nice and concede to the whims of the person who wants more... but they never really seem to develop much of a 'love' for that person.
Some people are nice and concede to hide their feelings as much as possible... but they never seem to actually get over the feelings.

So what are you supposed to do when a friendship gets to that point?
What is selfish, and what is kind?
What is right and what is wrong?

No one seems to have an answer for it though. We all seem to be struggling in our own ways with this problem in some form (in my social group at least). I think it's just that friendships have this tendency to change... constantly... and we're all trying to get our footing - and failing rather spectacularly at the moment!
The inner workings of a social group always seemed silly to me - the outsider looking in on all these people who couldn't talk about their real feelings because the social politics blah blah blah... it seemed stupid! How could telling the truth be hard?
But now I'm starting to understand that the more people in your friendship circle, the more fragile the connections become. Especially at first. Those bonds can solidify - I don't deny it - but the bigger the group the more mini-divisions there are. The more people the less time you socialise with certain people. The bonds become stronger with some than others... it becomes this complicated web of colours and shades and strengths... and people start tip-toeing around things like 'feelings'.
Actions speak louder than words - but they don't always tell the truth. That's one thing people forget. An action is something spontaneous - where as words are a lot longer to formulate and gel into a coherent thought that people can understand and process. Images speak a thousand words they say - but it's not true, it's just that they say them all at the same time, and we understand without having to be told all of them separately.

So you get to this part of the social network you've built around you (or fallen into as the case may be) where you realise if you say what you want to say it will effect everyone. Not just you. Not just you and the other person. Not just you, the other person, and your closest friends... it's everyone. All those people you spend time with - they'll be effected.
So you affect sincerity, and skirt the issue like a good politician.
The true social butterflies of this world are the real politicians. Never giving too much offence - or fixing it in some either diplomatic or forceful way - never loosing that exterior self.
That's what politics is all about. The mask you wear and the persona you portray.
What's underneath matters only to the very close people you have around you.

What's real isn't what is seen. What is seen can be real (don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we're all liars!!) but it's hardly ever the full truth.
I mean, you can look at some couples, for instance, and think their relationship is perfect (or as near as you can get in life). But you get the reality of it and you find these huge cracks and problems that you'd never imagined. Things you'd never be able to even deal with yourself. Things you couldn't comprehend people staying together through.
Or you can get people who are arrogant, and cocky - so full of themselves you want to hit them round their supposedly perfect little heads and bring them down a notch. You think their lives are so great, and it pisses you off because they're always ramming it down your throat. But you get the reality of it, and there's actually this really insecure person, terrified of failure, or whose life has totally crumbled around them - and instead of crumbling with it, or giving in to the torments of fate, they put on a brave face and pretend they're the best thing since sliced bread.

By the way - what's so great about sliced bread? I get that it's a convenience to buy it sliced and everything... but it's not that amazing, surely? I mean, back then the best thing was surely the power of greyskull or something with moving parts? Like the wheel?
Why do we never say "The best thing since the invention of the wheel!" ??

I suppose there are some things we never know.
Some things that we're never allowed to know - and other things that just can't be known, or understood.

I'm honestly tired of people trying to know everything about other people though.
It seems so pointless.
There's no way to understand a persons every action or reaction.
You'd have to know their entire life... and even then you'd have to know more. You'd have to know what they were feeling, how things made them feel and so forth - and a lot of people wont talk about emotions.... even more can't talk about them honestly.

There's always something of yourself you want to keep to yourself.
That's my belief.
There will never be a person in the world I wont want to keep a little bit of myself from. Because if you give it all away to them, what are you? What's left for you to say "I know my own mind better than you do" ? How can you be validated in anyway if that person can predict everything about you. How can you be a valid human being if there is not a single thing you can hold as your knowledge and yours alone??

I'm rambling far too much.
I should really sleep at nights.
Signing off


Blessed Be xx

Sat in the Library...

Well, I'm sat in the library (no, it's not the first time this year, thank you very much!) and I'm now completely bored. I don't seem far enough into my essay to actually write anything, and the next step is going and looking through books... research... yadda yadda... but I'm quite comfy sat here doing very little.

I'm only actually here because my friends were coming - and I didn't want to go back to the freezing-cold lonely-ass house that I don't really call home anymore. Yeah, there's a long story there... which I'll probably tell in a bit... but right now there's this thing stuck in my head (which, as usual, is why I'm writing).

I stand in front of the sink. I know I've broken into a new circle of closeness now, because the arguments over me not washing up are starting to dwindle - I'm winning finally, and Li only complains properly when his flatmates (or anyone who doesn't accept me as a permanent fixture at their house) complains about him letting me do it. Like now. Charlotte is horrified at the idea of me cleaning... even though I fight to do it all the time. She'll get over it soon enough. I'll be on the rota soon if I'm not careful actually.
So here comes Li to tell me to stop. Which I wont. Which he already knows.
He helps by tidying things, bringing the dirty stuff over to the side of the sink (now that there's room for it). As a joke he stands behind me and presses the back of the large kitchen knife against my throat. It's funny, till I tell him the knife is the wrong way round and he puts it down horrified that I'd even imagine him holding an actual knife to my throat. Shocked that I'd ever imagine him putting me in danger like that.
"Luke used to do it." I say, automatically.
Well... that killed the fun - and the conversation.

I can't help these little flashbacks lately. It can be something small and silly - like someone blowing a raspberry on my forehead and calling it a kiss, bringing back the pain of desperately wanting a kiss from the man I loved only to have a raspberry blown on my lips - or something big - like someones hands round my throat...

There was so much that was messed up about our relationship. I knew it at the time, but looking back it seems so much worse.
Yes - for the record - I did just as much back to him. Well, not just as much... but different things that I should imagine amount to the same thing... if that makes sense. And no - I never discouraged it. I should have... I should have put a stop to so much that I let just keep going. Stuff that made me cry at night, stuff that made me lay next to him and wait for him to go to sleep so I could slip out of bed and lay on the floor just to be away from him... but I didn't.

It doesn't make sense to me now that things carried on as they did for 2 years. Two whole years!
What on earth was I thinking?
I would never do that sort of thing now. Never. I wouldn't let someone hurt me constantly like that.
Maybe that's because I've been there though?
Maybe it's because I've been in that place where you have your heart broken every day, over and over, feeling it in your chest like a physical wound. Feeling the splinters grow and move - smashed open again and again... maybe I needed that in order to grow a back bone and know that I wont, wont do that again.

In a way it's made me stronger - so maybe it's true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
At the same time it's made me a lot more fragile.

Such small things can tip the balance of my mood now.
Little tiny things can make me want to run from people who I absolutely love.
These insignificant, infinitesimal actions can break my trust of someone... and it takes ages to build it back up.
So maybe I'm not stronger.
Maybe I'm broken in some strange way.

I don't like that idea though. I don't like the idea of being broken. Of not being whole.
So I choose to believe in myself.
That's what life comes down to in the end. A series of choices.
What we choose to do now is what makes us who we are in the future.
We can choose to be effected by things, or choose to move on and be strong.

Ah... moving on...
That's something I wish I could do when it comes to the house.

Not that it's a bad house or anything... it's just that... well...
It's cold, and it has this really really really bad vibe!
Li's called it a 'presence' before, but maybe that's because of the weird experiences I've had...

Okay, so I wasn't going to mention this anywhere my flatmates could see it, read it, hear about it (you get the idea) but I can't actually keep this to myself anymore.
There's something freaky in my house.
I hear it walking about  in the kitchen... especially when no one else is around... it's like it comes out when there's only one person there. Its toes click when it walks sometimes - that's when it's in a good mood. Others it scrapes its feet across the floor and it screeches. The other night I swear it was scratching on the windows too. It freaks me out when it's like that.
It follows me to my room too!
I hear it come up the stairs and walk along the landing, and it makes my heart race.
A fair few times when this has happened I've hidden in my bed casting protection spells and circles around me in the hope it won't come in.
It stood by my bed once and totally freaked me the HELL out!!
It makes my lights flicker all the time too - and it's even opened my door a few times. I've taken to locking it at night when I think it's in the kitchen - just in case.

I came home the other night and it was there. There was no-one else about and it started making really scary noises. I was really upset - mostly because my witchy friend had just left me at the door. If I'd just invited them in the stupid thing might have stayed quiet, or my friend could have helped me out...
So there I am, stood in the kitchen without the light on (because I was in a rush for the loo at the other end of the kitchen and hadn't thought to turn it on) with this creeped out feeling of being watched, listening to the freakiest scratching and scraping noises this stupid thing has ever made. How I didn't pee myself I'll never know. Yeah, that's me being smart right there. Instead of going to the loo, or turning a light on, I stopped to listen.
Anyone got a brand handy to imprint 'IDIOT' on my forehead please?
Eventually I managed to make my feet move and turn the light on. Thing is, it always seems to come from the little room/enclave next to the bathroom... so I'm stood at the other end of the kitchen trying to decide if I can hold it long enough to go upstairs to the loo instead - wasting precious minutes of bladder retention - as I try and pluck up enough courage to move towards the sounds.
Yeah, that's right, clever tit here actually went towards the sounds that were scaring the hell out of me.
"Could be the boiler!" I argued with myself "Could be the washing machine!" why the hell they would sound like breathing and feet scraping... don't ask me - but the boiler and washing machine are in that alcove, so there was some logic to the madness!
Okay, so the boiler wasn't on. Neither was the washer. But the toilet was empty - so I used that before wetting myself. I also remembered to turn the light on in there. Somehow scary noises aren't as bad when the lights on. Till it flickers... then you bob your pants some more...

After psyching myself up a little more (okay, so I text Li in a total panic and he calmed me down) I decide - you know what! I'm not afraid of this! I'm gonna get something to eat!
Yeah, back into the kitchen I go... back past the place I think of as the center of all this 'icky presence'... I'll tell you now that was the quickest pick up of food you've ever seen.
Lights all on while I did it (might even have left the toilet light on, can't remember) tapping my foot and wishing I'd put my headphones in to listen to anything other than the sporadic scraping noises.
Then running practically all the way to my room, turning lights on in front of me and only just bringing myself to turn them off behind me.

So this is why I don't like our house.
This is why I don't spend much time there now.
Because every time I'm there there's this... this thing...
And I'm actually scared of it - scared of facing it alone again...
I don't sleep well, because I constantly think it's going to come into my room again. I don't use the kitchen often (or stay there - especially alone) because that's where it seems to live.

I sound stupid and paranoid... but still - it's scary!!
And I have an over-active imagination which doesn't help the situation!!

Anyway, I'm going to stop rambling before people in the library think I'm actually working hard on an essay, what with typing so much!


Blessed Be xx

The desire to explain

Sometimes your past stays there - in the past - and leaves you alone.
Other times it haunts you.

I've come to learn it's the mistakes that haunt you the most.

This mistake just keeps going round and round in my head, and I felt the need to share it...


I'm laid next to him in my little flat, the single bed feeling like a tomb. The weight of what happened is pressing in on me so much that I eventually sit bolt upright and tell him.
"I cheated on you."
I can't remember what else was said, or done. I remember his fist going through my wall. I remember him storming off to see our friend. I remember being on the phone to my sister... but it's all vague and indistinct...

The thing that sticks out is the actual night when I ended up sleeping with another man.

We'd all been drinking - band get together. A bunch of us ended up back at Johnny's for more drinks. That ended with Sam getting totally smashed and somehow walking home. But it was so cold, and I just wasn't ready to go home yet. Luke and I had been fighting, practically yelling at each other on the phone, I was pretty sure he'd told me things were basically over. I'd cried outside rehearsals. Johnny had been walking me there when I had the phone call... I knew he understood why I was un-reluctant to go home to a cold empty flat and have to think about it.
So we sat snuggled up on the sofa talking about music, and autism, and god knows what else. Then suddenly we're kissing.
My instant thought is "You don't kiss right..." but I've just done a double shot of jagermister... so who cares right? I can at least pretend to be drunk and that this is ok. To be fair, I've been a little dizzy since necking it...
Then some how we're stood up. I'm intending to go, but he's pulling me to the stairs.
"No..." I pull away "Johnny, no." but his mouth stops me and now we're the other way round and he's gently pushing me towards them.
I pull away again, repeating no. no. no...
But his mouth is so insistent. I don't remember if he even argued. He's already offered for me to stay the night if I don't want to walk home.
I pull away again, but some how I've managed to get pinned against the wall on the bottom steps of the stairs. It's hard to pull away with your back against the wall.
All I can hear is my head screaming "no!!!!" but my body is responding to the way his hand runs down my side, the way his kiss includes his whole body pushing me into the wall. The insistent way he draws me further upstairs.
We finally reach the top of the stairs and he opens another door. More stairs. It's dark. I'm so tired.
He starts up these stairs and after a couple of steps lets go of my hand. I can't think. I'm so tired. I'll just lay down a second and...
"Hey, come on.. don't sleep there... look, my rooms just over there, it's closer... come on" his hands are pulling me gently up. oooh, bed... sleep good... okay.
Part of me suddenly thinks "wait - where were you taking me?" (I found out later his flatmate had a double bed... and wasn't in...) but the thought doesn't last long before I'm guided along the corridor to a little room. The bed is small, like mine, but really messy. I don't care. I practically fall into it as soon as he lets me. My belly is doing something strange.

I fade in and out of consciousness as his lips press against mine and his hands wander. I can't remember who he is. Luke? Li? TJ? a list of people runs through my head. Oh wait! You're... no WAIT!!!
My hand reaches for his and I press his fingers on my engagement ring.
"We can't."
He shushes me and continues to undress me. Suddenly I don't care anymore. I'm used to this anyway, the routine of it helps ease me into it all. So used to acquiescing. So used to letting someone do this...I give in and let my body take control.
All I can think is "You kiss wrong...." during the whole thing, and through it all the nag of guilt. My anger tides that over some how, pushing it down, down, down.

When it's over I don't know what to do.
Part of me feels violated, but then I also feel mildly satisfied; and the churning in my stomach is getting worse - pushing it all down, down, down. We lay next to each other, I feign sleep; where before I was practically unconscious, now I can't sleep.
It's not long before I'm slipping out of bed, into clothes, and across to the bathroom.
I want to be sick. I'm going to be sick. Oh god, please no - I hate being sick! I always end up peeing at the same time! Thank god I'm only sick once a year (if that) normally. Please don't be sick, please please please...
He comes in and finds me hung over the toilet bowl. So attractive. He must think I'm so slaughtered.

I can't throw it up though (anally/orally retentive) and I can't face the idea of staying. I feel so ill. He's trying to convince me to get back in bed, but instead I search out my shoes and other belongings (I've lost an earring!! It's a favourite!! well, serves you right) and he agrees to let me go home. Last time I was at his he walked me half way home... tonight he doesn't bother. I totter home feeling worse and worse - my first (and only) walk of shame.

It takes forever to get home through the tears and sickness, but I finally manage it. The security doors playing nice for once, the lift up to the fourth floor clunking along at its ordinary pace, the front door finally yielding to my persistence and finally I'm back at a toilet - feeling utterly sorry for myself.

Food poisoning. Bad food poisoning. Ham that was weeks out of date and bread that was changing colours... all tasted fine with BBQ sauce at the time! And I'd figured eating before going out was a good idea! That's Student living for you.
It affects me all day. From 4am when I get in, to 9pm when I go to sleep.
I feel like death. I'm confused and ashamed about what I did. I don't know what to do.
I end up telling my new best friend, who I'm so sure is never going to be able to look at me the same way ever again.


Telling Luke is the hardest and most necessary thing I've ever done.
I don't know how I stay so calm the whole time. The more I think about it, while telling him and then waiting for him, the more I start to think that it was rape. It wasn't though... saying no a million times in a row counts for nothing after any show of acquiescence right? Plus I'd kissed him back. Totally my fault.

I'm even calm when his fist goes through the wall by my head. Justified - I think. I barely cry when I try (and fail) to explain. I text Li for him so he can go talk to someone else.
Then I throw the ring at the door after him once he's left - all composure lost.

Three days he cries. Three whole days. He can't talk, can't look at me. My brain wont shut up though:
How could I hurt him like that?
How could I let things go that far with someone else?
How could I let someone pin me to the wall like that?
How could I let someone push me upstairs and into bed?
How could I be so cruel?
How do I fix it?
Why do I not want to?

Everything is so disjointed. My memory to this day is of total confusion and upheaval. I remember that I avoided band practice from then on. Didn't see him again. Except for at Oxjam, when he came and said hi. They'd kicked him out of the band anyway.

What's really strange is that I always imagined that the only reason that someone cheats on their boyfriend or girlfriend is because they like the other person more - or a hell of a lot... but it's not, is it? It happens for so many reasons, and it almost always starts with problems in the relationship.

For me, the worst part is that I still go over the whole thing and try to work out why things happened the way they did. Was the mood just right? Was I drunk? Was it the food poisoning? Was I mad at Luke? Was I attracted to Johnny? Are any of those (even combined) good enough excuses? Is there an excuse? Am I just a terrible person for having committed the ultimate sin against ones partner?
On top of all that, I don't see how I can ever be trusted again. How can I ever be believed by a partner if I say the immortal words "nothing happened"? How can I trust them to be faithful if I know it's so easy to be adulterous?

My fear of commitment is rooted in many things, but I think this is a big part of it all. Commitment means never being allowed to mess up.
I'm prone to messing up.

I don't know what on earth has possessed me to share this with you. I feel incredibly stupid for doing so in fact. So stupid I was going to leave it in draft form forever... but I'm not that kind of person. So here it is.

In the end though, I'm just that girl - the one who can't say no. I may dread doing something, or really not want to; I may have grounds perfectly reasonable not to do it... but ask in the right way and I'll do it.
There's only one person in this world I've ever found I wouldn't go against if I thought it would actually upset them in anyway; and that's my best mate Li. If there was something that someone wanted me to do, and it hurt him - I wouldn't do it. Or at least I'd be extremely unlikely to do it (depending on seriousness and severity). That's not to say I'd never do anything to hurt my friend. I often end up doing stuff that hurts him. They're the things that I hate the most. But we all make mistakes - and like I said earlier - I'm prone to messing up. I'm pretty much a mess up.

So yeah, I just had to get that said. Get it out of my head for a little while.
Now that's done, I'll go sleep.

Peace and love to you, whoever you are


Blessed Be xx

In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

The words sting my eyes as I read them. The words of longing, of regret; they make my heart thump out of rhythm as I realise they'll always be for someone else.

She was always the one he wanted, yet she never managed to get him. How? It seems impossible. But the thing that hurts the most is knowing I'll never be as good as her. I'll never be able to make him smile in that way. Never be able to light those emotions, or make him laugh like that...

I remember swimming with them both. Even when they were in the middle of arguing there was that something there, something in that smile, that erased the world and left only them. I don't think either of them saw it then... but it was always there.

I can make him laugh, and smile, and even cry at times... but it'll never be that laugh, or that smile... or even those tears.
Sometimes it hurts.

No, that's a lie. It always hurts. Knowing you can't give someone that love, can't make them happy in that stupidly eternal way. Knowing that nothing you do can ever make it all ok for them. Knowing that they'll never understand that all you want is their happiness.
It doesn't hurt not having the feelings returned. Not for the reasons you think at least. It's not painful because those eyes don't look into mine with the same tenderness that I can't take out of my own eyes... it's because I know that there's no way to make them soar the way just their smile makes me fly.

It's knowing that the boundaries will always be there, keeping you away from their heart. Keeping you from being able to pour that soothing balm into their wounds and kiss everything better.

In truth, it's knowing that you'll never be good enough.

Because no matter how ardently I love and admire him, no matter how hard it is to repress those feelings, they'll never make him happy.
I'll never be the one that brings that happiness back into his eyes.

Sometimes I fool myself that I will.
But it's all in vain.

I'll keep this love caged in the friendship sized box I've forged for it, and hope it doesn't grow too much bigger than it already is.
I'll love him forever, and I'll not speak a word of it again.


Blessed Be xx

Dearly Beloved...

Have you ever been told that you act like a married couple with someone?

If you're actually married to that person, stop looking at me like I'm speaking gibberish, because you're not who I'm talking about.

I'm talking about when you're so close to a friend that everyone comments that you're practically married.
Now, I suppose they have a point in some respects. Like the telling each other off for silly things they do and the lack of sex... but really...

Okay, so by now (if you know anything about me at all) you'll have worked out that this is going to be a rant about my best friend Libor.

Yes, we get treated like a couple... constantly. Yes, we've been told we're a married couple (even by each other)... far too often. So what makes a couple different to a friendship??
This is the real question buzzing round my head.

Obviously if you're talking about an actual couple, there's the mutual agreement between two people that you're 'together'. But how do we classify it from the outside? How do we make the assumptions that two people are not just friends.

It's really odd the assumptions you make through the day though. Deciding who you want to be friends with on the pure assumptions you form from what they look like or what they wear. Who they talk to, or how. How often they answer their phone. So what is it that we notice between two people when they walk down the street that screams 'we're together!' then?
Is it when they link arms? Or hold hands?
Or is there something more about how they walk? How they gravitate towards one another?

Sometimes it feels as though me and Li move together, around each other... Like we're connected in some way, moving because of each other. Like there's this weird pull... I dunno how to explain it.
There'll be times where we'll be sat somewhere and one of us will move unconsciously so that the other is more comfortable. Or will reach for something that hasn't been asked for and give it to the other person.

We jokingly say that we're in each others brains. It does get to the point where we know what each other are thinking at times. Answering thoughts aloud instead of having to have them voiced first. Finishing each others sentences. Explaining each other to people who haven't followed the thought process. Knowing stuff about each other without having to ask.
It's as if we're hyper aware of each other; noticing minute changes and understanding what they mean. Noticing when they like something else, or change a habit. When they smile in a certain way understanding the emotion and what sparked it... it's scary. It's like knowing someone as well as you know yourself.

But why does everyone say that makes us coupley?
Does that not just make us really good friends?
Part of me thinks it's because we're both single and of opposite sex.

You know what I've just realised?? My blogs are starting to sound more and more like his... I'm about ready to run away in fear.
It's odd how much you become like someone when you spend time withe them. You retain your core... but the peripherals become more and more like each other. It's like you start to mirror each other.
Maybe that's what we recognise in couples? Their mirroring of each other.

My mum once told me that she did an exercise in college where they had to pair up photos of people who they thought were married. What she found interesting was how similar certain people looked - especially if they had been married for very long. It's as though they became more and more of a mirror of one another as the years progressed.

I think that's one of the weirdest parts of friendship though. The way you soak up each others gestures and sayings; their little quirks begin to be your own. The way someone does something becomes an inside joke or a convenient way to express a feeling or situation.
I think the thing that made me notice it the most is the way in which our personalities seem to have been tempered by each other in this case. For instance, his positivity and optimism has worn off on me (I even got told off for reiterating one of the sentiments in an old blog post of his which I'd initially disagreed with the other day) while my protectiveness and honesty is rubbing off on him.
Think I got the better end of the deal on that one !

One of our friends always says "Never a Lauren without a Libor", and lately it's been true. But part of me is worried that we're going to start annoying each other soon. I mean, I've never had someone so close to me before... but the people I have had close (boyfriends mostly) have always ended up getting on my nerves sooner or later. Not to mention I know that he likes his space...
I think what worries me the most is that the more we're treated like a couple the more we act like one... the less likely either of us are to get an actual partner.
I suppose I shouldn't worry about it though. The end of this academic year will be a decider in many things, best to let things run their course I suppose and enjoy them as they come.

This year, this shiny glittery year, is the last in an era. Perhaps that's why I'm squeezing as much enjoyment out of it as I can. Lets face it, next year is when we have to enter the real world again. Jobs. Work. Bills. Boredom. Loss of student-discount status (right when I've finally found out where they give the student discounts). Settling down. Choosing a career. Probably back to sunny (read scummy) old Grantham.
Next year will be the one without my other half... learning to live without a limb... living with a missing beat to my heart. It's gonna be so strange, and probably very hard too. But if that's what comes next, then that's what we'll deal with. It's inevitable that all of us - all our friends that we have now - will grow apart over time. Doing such different things in such different places... and lets face it, I'm not great at staying in contact with people...
So I suppose that's the real source of my unease. I'm scared of the 'husband and wife' status that I have with Libor because I'm scared of loosing it.
That makes so little sense it's silly!

Like my friend Dan was saying the other day, there's no point getting into a relationship now because it'll turn into a long distance thing far too soon... so what's the point in getting this close to someone if it's only to be ripped apart in 6months time?
It's really hard sometimes, to look at my closest friends - Jodie, Libor, Dan - and think that in a few months I may not see them again except for sporadically. It means two things.
1) I need to learn to keep in contact better
2) I need a set of wheels!
My new years resolution will be to save enough money to do my Direct Access (bike test) and get that bike in Mum and Dad's back yard sorted out so I can ride it properly. A job to pay for it. That way I can blast up to see them any time I miss them too much.
Lets face it, if things continue this way I'm going to spend a hell of a lot of time blasting from (I'm guessing London) to Leicester and Halifax... working as little as I can afford to just so I can spend all my time with the people I love like family.
I suppose I'll stay with my parents for awhile until things calm down enough, and I have a good idea of where I want to live and work.

My head is so full of the future right now...
It's as though I can't stop looking at those paths that are spreading off in a million different directions.
Ones leading to a factory, a job that I can't stand, living in Grantham for far too long after this year.
Ones leading to London, or Derby, or wherever Libor ends up going; following like a puppy in his sure footsteps.
Ones that lead to Leicester, a job that barely pays for my rent while I write and play at being a student with Jodie.
Ones that lead abroad, to some odd hopeful prospect of something more...
Ones leading to an MA that I can't afford, living in debt for longer and longer...

All I can truly see is that I'll only be happy if I'm writing. That's what I've realised I want more than anything. I want to write.
I was thinking about going into medicine like Kaydie and Li... but I realised what I more long for is the idea of studying medicine. The idea of researching genetics.
I want to be the one who peruses the edges of the world of knowledge, understanding what I can and turning it into stories. I want to be the one sat at home typing away on chapter after chapter; handing out bits of story to my friends to see what they think.
To be published! Oh! To be published would be wonderful!!

So there we have it. No matter what I do I'll be sat at my laptop tapping away, creating odd little scenarios, living them out in my mind and putting them into words. Re-writing them, playing them out in more depths. Learning to love the characters I don't yet know, giving each person a depth that matches that of a friend...
I'm looking forward to those early novels that are terrible terrible replications of my own experiences and relationships, and how the next ones will evolve, grow - and so allow me to grow into something more like a true writer.

The thing is, I don't see how I'll do it without my best friend at my side, supporting and cajoling me the whole way. Reading with awe even the worst of my writing, poking fun at my characters, laughing at the jokes no one else could possibly get, dragging me away from the computer when I've spent far too many hours absorbed in my stories, keeping me on track with questions of 'what next??'...
It's hard to imagine even being me without him though; so it's no wonder that I can't picture being a successful writer version of me without him.

Odd how you spend your life being so independent, only to find that after two years of growing closer and closer to someone you no-longer find a distinction between yourself and them, and you become almost wholly dependant on them. Their views, their actions, their caring, all of it means so much that you can't live without them.
After 10 years of being as independent as a girl can be, managing to keep that self-dependence through countless relationships, to find it almost entirely disappeared now is a very strange experience. To find yourself wondering 'what would they think' at almost every turn; thinking not 'what does that look like' but 'what would they think that looks like'...
I'll be honest, being infatuated is nothing to this level of inexplicable consideration. Perhaps we really are like a married couple... less in the idea of a couple, but more in the idea of a depth of caring and knowing for and of one another. To be fair, if I had to choose a person to spend my entire life with it would be him without question.

I'm afraid this blog post has made very little sense.
I don't quite know what I've said, or what I meant to say... so I invite you to attempt to wander through my though processes and I congratulate you heartily if you have managed to follow them with any level of understanding. I'm not sure I've understood any of it.

For now I'm going to go write some fiction. Hopefully it'll be better written than this has been.


Blessed Be xx

Things you stumble upon!

I've just found an old blog of mine from waaaay back in secondary school. It's mostly filled with silly poems and random writings, but feel free to take a look ^_^

Lollypoprocks

Other than that, I'm just working on being me.

Got some books to get read, some presents to form from thin air, and some good laughs to be had.
Hope your life is coming along swimmingly ^_^

(longer, more rambley posts to come soon, don't worry lol)


Blessed Be xx