It seems I’ve managed to go a few weeks, where I’ve let Little Winter slip by. And honestly? I haven’t even felt guilty about it..
It’s not that I don’t want to write on here, it’s just that I don’t know what to write.
I feel empty, yet as though I’m a completely different person to who I was this time last year. I’m learning so much about myself, and the world and I’m even figuring out how to build furniture. To some that may be nothing.
To me, that’s an achievement. One that I should probably write on my CV.
Even if it means leaving out the part that I messed up.
I’m not going to sit here and say things are great, but I’m also not going to sit here and say things have been awful. They’ve just been, in a sense… Strange. Very very strange. My friends have been absolutely incredible, and it’s times like these that you sit back and remember why they’re your friends.
The fact that they’ll sit up texting me till silly o’clock when I’m feeling lonely.
That they’re always trying to find a way to make me laugh.
How they don’t mind when I cry, sit in my pants and question everything. And they sit beside me, and listen.
How they’ll never judge. Instead share their experiences in a warming way.
That they make me make plans with them.
And that, they’re just there. Like all the time. And I’m really grateful for that. They’re good eggs, actually the best eggs that you’d get in an egg box.
Maybe I could marry them instead?
My family have also been supportive, offering to help me move furniture, teach me how to put up shelves, and checking in for coffee. It’s sweet. It’s weird. It’s hard. And I didn’t realise you could feel all the emotions at the same time. All at once.
But you can. And I was told that it’s OK to feel all of them.
At the same time.
There are days when I feel independent, when I feel like I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I tell myself that maybe I could book that holiday somewhere on my own, because that would be an awesome thing to do. I tell myself that I’m not such a bad person, and that I’ve got this. I force myself to do things I wouldn’t normally. I remind myself that my new place is nice, it’s fresh and cosy, and it’s me. And I tell myself that I’ll be alright.
But there are also days when I feel like the world is coming down on me. I feel like the simple things of someone playing with your hair in bed are the most important ones in life. I remind myself of what life was like two years ago, and what I had, could have had. I think about if I’ll ever feel truly happy again. I worry about somebody else seeing my naked body. And I question why the hell I’m still sitting in my pants at 3pm on a Sunday afternoon and wonder how my future is going to pan out.
Those are the days I don’t like.
Those are the days that I want to curl up in bed with my little prince, and wake up to something better. To not feel these mixed emotions. All rolled into one.
And to only feel excited for the future.
To feel challenged and ready for whats ahead of me.
To want to be stepping into the unknown.
Because that’s what I want to feel.
But I guess this is what comes with heartbreak. And yes, I am hurting too. People forget that I am hurting just as much as the other person. But I am.
I hurt too when I’m deleted off Facebook which I hope is to help the other person. I hurt when I’m asking myself if I’m such a bitch and a horrible person for all of this.
I hurt too when I want to find out if the other person is OK, but know I shouldn’t.
I hurt too. And I’m allowed to hurt. I am. I must be.
And it sucks. It’s hard.
But it’s also life. And I’m only human. But I know I’ll get there. Even if my proudest moment some days are just stepping outside my front door.
I know I can do this. I have to do this.
Because there’s a whole world out there waiting to be seen.
Just, maybe not today.