New Beginnings

I've taken the unexpected path down the fork in the road. I'm going to try my utmost to stick to these changes. There are so many reasons to do this, I just have to have the will power and the stamina to keep it up. It's going to take time, and a lot of hard work, but I'm feeling pretty determined. Today was day 1. Just you watch this space.

Also. Just had to share this little blast from the past which I've been blasting out this week. Celine Dion, get back in my life.

Effing and Jeffing

It puzzles me how when I get the feeling that I should blog out my thoughts, and I sit down to write, what comes out is almost never what I sat down to write about in the first place. Today I wanted to write about angry things, uni things, angry things about people who are starting to grate on me. So I'm blogging again, but this time about what I wanted to write about. But to be honest, I'll most probably post this and then realise that I've done it again, gone off on a tangent, digressed. (Have you noticed that, as per usual, this has already happened here!!) Okay. There are some people. They are starting to grate on me. I hope they don't read my blog. I just feel like they aren't really getting me at the moment. I'm pretty sure that if I turn on my phone, which I haven't done since Thursday, I will have a whole host of angry texts. But I'm not really fussed. I need space at the moment; I need to just do whatever gets me through this. Not have my actions dictated or whatever they are trying to do. Okay enough pussyfooting around here, this is what I actually wanted to say. I'm pissed off. You left me in Central London, all alone, and I had no idea where I was. You just walked off and left me there, shouting after you. What the fuck? Who leaves a girl who is clearly upset after the loss of her father alone in a place she doesn't know without even saying anything? And yes, you others texted me saying how it was wrong of her. But I just don't really think you understood how much that upset me. And you thought it was a fucking joke. And yes, I told you to go fuck yourself. Because I actually think that is what you should do. You're four years older than me. Grow the fuck up! It shouldn't be this way around. And now it's that time where we have to think about where we live next year. You've submitted the form saying that we're all living together next year again but are we? Because I'm thinking about it. I said before.. I wanted to go back into halls for third year. And I think I still do. Oh I don't know. I'm just not happy the way things are at the moment. And I don't know what to do about it. End scene.

The Flood - Part II

So a few days ago I wrote about the gates being opened and the flood being let loose. That was dumb. I didn't even know what the flood was then. Now; now is a different story altogether. The crying is endless. I can't stop it. On the bus to uni. On the night bus back from Central. In a lecture. In a restaurant. Watching Match of the Day. What has happened to me? Apparently it's delayed shock. But seriously, this isn't me. Usually, in fact, always, I can control tears. Even when I really, really want to cry, I can stop them. Like that time I woke up in the morning and an ex had texted me, and I only read the first line, then I went to uni, and knowing only that first line for the whole day almost killed me, but I knew if I read the rest I'd collapse into a crying heap, so I saved it until I got home. The whole day I wanted to cry. But I held it in. But now is a whole different story. And yes, I know, it's a very different subject matter, but this is getting out of hand. I'm making a fool of myself wherever I go. But I don't want to not cry because it's supposed to be a way of dealing with what's happened. But I definitely think I'm on my way to stage two: Anger. Not that they're angry tears, but I can just feel the anger beginning to bubble up inside me. Before I was just sad. Now, things are a little different. It's not like I'm angry at anyone in particular, except perhaps the world for taking him away from us. I still think I'm in denial about it; it's taking a long time to sink in, nearly two months now. I don't think I believe it yet. But I suppose if the crying is any signal to go by, it must be sinking in in some way.

Role Reversal

Contact has been made from both parties. I don't know what I want. I keep thinking I do, then something happens and I'm back questioning everything again. It doesn't even have to be something big. My head is all jumbly. But we're back in touch. I just think you deserve better than me. You deserve everything you could ever want. And yes of course you make me smile. You really do. But half the time I don't even know where I am at the moment and I'm not sure if I can give you everything you need. You need stability. And I said a while ago I wanted to be the one who could make it all okay for you. But that was before this massive event in my life. I think now, it's not my time to be trying to fix you. I need someone to fix me. Someone to tell me everything is going to be okay. Everything has turned upside down.

We Were Young, And Wild, And Free

Okay. Okay so these words have been a long time coming. I think it's the snow, it's brought it all out of me. For the last hour or so I've been taking myself back to 2008, reading every message we exchanged. Listening to the songs I listened to then. The day I first went into your shop. Then I went away. And came back again as you were shutting up. Then the first time I went round yours.

'stop saying sorry,
i loved it.
every minute of it.'

I loved it too. I loved you. 

'i cldnt evn look at u 2day, let alone make u smile.
=[
xxx'

Why, three years on, do I still think of you when I have to write. There's many a story within you. Within us. I like to say how writable you are. Very writable. Inspirational. There are so many little things about you that inspire something within me. I told you the snow was my favourite. You said you thought you were my favourite. I didn't know what to say. You asked if there was anything you could do. I said make it snow. Make it snow so I don't have to go into school tomorrow so I don't have to see you and you don't have to see me in this state. Make it snow so we're apart, because if I see you, I'll fall apart. Make it snow so us being over doesn't seem real just yet. Make it snow so I get one more day to take it in. You said you'd try. The next day it snowed. School was called off. Snow always reminds me of you. So tonight I'm writing about you again. I don't love you anymore. But I still care about you. You'll always be the person that inspires something within me. You're too writable to ingore. And one day I'll publish the story of us in my own way and I'll post you a copy. And maybe you'll realise just how amazing you are. Everytime I said it, I wasn't lying. And I didn't even know to what extent you were amazing back then. It was a magical time back then. Those six weeks inspired more in me than the other 19 years of my life. I don't know where I'm going with this. But I'm writing about you. Again. Feel special. Or try to at least.

The Flood

I cried. I think writing the last post opened the gate to the flood. I hadn't cried in a long time. Much longer than usual before this happened. I thought about it for a while. But not long. Even now I'm already putting it straight out of my mind again. I've shut the gate. This kind of thing is hard in ways you didn't even know existed before it happens to you. My brain isn't ready for this kind of thinking. I think I know now why I put off watching the end of season six and season seven of Grey's Anatomy for so long. I kept it for a time when I'd need it. It has always been my way of diverting thoughts. I used to use it years ago to allow my insomniacal brain to concentrate on something else so I wasn't thinking my usual thoughts so I could sleep. It worked. And now I'm using it to stop thinking about this. Maybe I want to stay in stage one, stay in denial for a bit longer. I mean, it's not like it's a race to get through the five stages. You're supposed to take it slowly. So, I guess I'll keep watching Grey's Anatomy and after that I can progress. My mind needs a break at the moment, a moment to rest before it has to cope with this loss for the rest of my life. And if it takes me a month to watch all the remaining episodes, though that might seem a long time to not think for, in the grand scheme of things, if I've got another sixty years left, it's not that long. The flood can wait.

Most People Get To Have Grandkids

I've been thinking about this a lot. Since. You know. And as much as I'm adamant that I'm still in stage one of grief, denial, I have been thinking about this. A lot. This is the only thing I've been thinking about though. I don't feel ready to think yet. Which for me, is unusual. I usually like to think a lot. But with this, everytime it enters my mind I force it out again. It's starting to worry me. It's like a huge part of my brain that I'm stopping myself from accessing. It's not that I don't want to think about him, of course I do. I just think it hasn't sunk in and I don't want it to. Maybe I'm scared that if I allow myself to think about it, it will seem more real. I think if I allow myself to think, I'll break down. I'm putting on a front but I don't know how to take it down. I'm scared to think. But I've been thinking about this. About the age he was. 63. People say he was young to die, but 63 isn't that young. People say I am young to lose my father, but that wasn't one of the first thing that crossed my mind when it happened. Then I started to realise that I am, I suppose, quite young. I know my brothers are young. The only way I could really work it out was to compare my experiences to those of the people I know. My friend Laura, lost her father a few years ago. I definitely thought she was young then. And my cousins when they lost my uncle. They were very young. But those are the only people my age I know that have lost their dads. Then my mind turned to people my mothers age, a lot of whom still have both parents. My mum for example. My great grandad is still alive, at 102. I spoke to a few people of my parents age at the funeral who shared their experiences of losing parents, but those were mainly in the last five years. In the very early days I was very interested, so much so that I tried to google it with no avail, in the average age to lose a parent. I worked out my own little formula, say the average age to have a child is 30, and the average life expectancy is 80, then the average age to lose a parent ought to be at fifty. Which makes me feel very young to have lost my dad. I don't know if it will ever seem real. I just can't imagine living in a world where he isn't. Which I think is why I don't want to think about it. But anyway, I've just been watching Grey's Anatomy and someone mentioned grandchildren. Which made me think about grandparents. And I thought about how many grandparents are around. A lot. Most people I know still have at least two grandparents alive. Most people get to have grandkids. My dad didn't get to have that. Which makes me sad. And also reinforces the feeling that my dad was young to die, even though 63 isn't a particularly young age. So that's what I've been thinking about a lot. But it is the only thing. The other thoughts will just have to wait until I feel more ready. I'm not ready yet.