Going home tomorrow 20/03/2013

Going home tomorrow. It’s such a bittersweet feeling. I’ve been looking forward to it for about a month, I won’t lie. I crave my ‘normality.’ A huge part of me just wants my old life back. I want my dogs and my walks and my course and my simplicity. I want what I know. I want my comfort zone. I miss my fireplace when it’s freezing and my amazing, amazing British comedy on TV that I miss so much. I can’t wait to have that back. But then I hate to leave…

After me and my bfs arguing got to the point where it was too much, I came to a dawning realisation. A realisation that I couldn’t do this. This life we were living, I didn’t want it. I don’t want to live in America. I don’t want to get married or even engaged at this age. I don’t want to argue endlessly day in day out anymore. Oh my god, I thought, I just can’t do this. And I broke up with him and waited for the day when I could return home and forget all this ever happened.

My bf assumed, like the dozens of times I’ve split up with him that I was merely just being annoyed and it was an empty break up, within the day we would be back together. But it wasn’t. Something changed. And it still hasn’t reverted back. This day has been coming for a while now, with each day getting more and more difficult. He knows that when I leave, chances are extremely high that I won’t come back. We’ve talked about him coming to see me in a month or so for a couple of weeks, but as friends, and it’s not enough.

He wonders how I can be content with us just being friends. I’m not. But I know we can’t be anything more. Even friends is a push. Nobody wants to watch the other one move on… It’s a gutting reality that if we don’t get back together, we will simply stop talking and that will be it. All over.

He can’t take it. I’ve watched him cry a dozen times over. It’s the hardest thing in the world. I hate when he cuddles me and I can just feel that he loves me so much. And when he asks me in almost a 5 years old voice not to leave him, I don’t know what to do. I still love him so much. It feels like I always will. It hurts me to think that one day these feelings might fade away like feelings do. Sometimes I stop and look at him. How can I leave him? It doesn’t make sense. This guy is fucking gorgeous and amazing. He is the man I could only ever dream of being with. He’s the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen, and that’s not even me being biased, it blows my mind when he says that he’s attracted to me. Me the ugly girl at school. What?? It should be him leaving me. And he’s been with so many people, and he’s told me when we met that he’s never met anyone that he’s wanted to settle down with forever, he gets bored with girls. And now here is that same guy, crying over the thought of me leaving him. How did it happen that I became the one for him? He’s too good for me. It doesn’t make sense. Why am I leaving him? How on earth is this relationship not right?! I don’t know how to cope. Because I don’t want to leave him, I don’t want us to be over, but it simply is. I can’t live here, he can’t live there, we can’t keep arguing, I can’t do this anymore. And so when tomorrow rolls around and we’re both standing in the airport, I have no idea how I am going to keep it together. I hold vain hope that being in public will prevent me from showing emotion but I am tragically weak. Because we know it might be the last time we ever see each other again. If he starts crying, I will lose it. It’s going to be a very lonely, very depressing 8 hour journey back home.


My problem with kids 28/02/2013

I’ve been thinking about whether I want to write this for a while now. I’m worried that someone I know will eventually find this blog and read it and get the wrong impression of me. I guess it’s almost taboo to say what I want to say and if it isn’t taboo well then it’s just downright unfair I suppose.

When I was younger, between the ages of 5 and 9 I had a big group of friends and we would all hang out on the same street all day every day. Because we weren’t friends from school and instead were just the kids who lived on the street, we all varied in age. The oldest was a guy who at the time, and I still do see him as about 25 years old. In reality he was probably about 18 at the most. The adults on the street used to hate us. We’d always be playing football in the street, kicking the ball into people’s gardens and going to get it and messing up their hydrangea bush, accidentally hitting their car or just making a lot of noise. I saw my childhood as the kids vs the adults, like some sort of 90’s blockbuster movie where the kids fight back against the adults to conquer the street! I can remember so many adults who would shout at us or just give us a disapproving look. I was always confused by this, we were just kids. They were kids! They probably have kids! How can they be annoyed at us? So now, around 12 years later, here’s my confession: Kids annoy me!

I’ve never felt myself really being the “maternal” type when it comes to children. I don’t know if that’s because I sort of halted my life at 14 years old and never felt that I made that leap to adulthood and so I feel too young still to develop it or because I thought I’d never find someone I wanted children with or have a family so I never gave it much thought and thus it never developed. Now I’m with my boyfriend I do feel like eventually one day I do definitely want children. Not long ago we would talk about it and I would express my desire to have a child right now! This weird urge that I wanted a baby. When I got my period, I was actually depressed. We weren’t trying for one or anyone but I guess I got all caught up in the idealized fantasy of having a cute, stress free angelic blend of both of us. However, a few days ago I decided without any doubt that I do NOT want to get pregnant at least for another 5 years.

My boyfriend already has a kid, he’s 7 years old and just witnessing what it’s like to have a child as close as I can get without actually giving birth to one just puts me off completely. Now this is where I feel I have to be careful. God forbid my boyfriend finds this blog and reads this and thinks I’m talking shit about his son – I’m not. But there’s no denying that experiencing what it’s like to have a child is very very off putting. Now when I experience this, I don’t get the joy of maternal, or paternal in my bf’s case, love and all that shit. I don’t love this child anywhere near the amount that he does. I’m sure my bf looks at him and is filled with love and other shit parents experience, but for me the halo, the bright light, the “I made that” feelings don’t exist. And it just all looks very bleak. There’s no denying kids can be a joy. They come out with the most wonderful quotes that make me understand perfectly, and appreciate wholly, my mum’s obsession with writing down every humorous thing I ever said as a child. But there’s just so many downsides to children.

My biggest problem is that they’re messy. They’re dirty and I can’t bear it. Now, this sounds gross, but I’m not the most hygienic person in the world. If I’ve not gone out then I’ll go without a shower for a couple days, most of the time I don’t floss, sometimes I forget to wear deodorant or whatever. But kids are disgusting on a whole other level. They go to the toilet and don’t flush leaving me to see things of theirs I don’t even want to see of my own. They pick their noses and flick it on the floor for me to step on. One time I was at the a friends house and her annoying bratty 7 year old brother picked his nose and flicked it on the floor and I refused to walk anywhere near the vicinity he was in ever again. The thought of my foot standing on that and it being stuck to my feet made me feel physically sick. You know they don’t wash their hands yet you have to let them press the button in the lift or help you out with baking cookies. Leaving everything they’ve touched contaminated and me nervously trying to avoid touching anything they might have touched for fear of what I might get on my hands. I never eat anything a child has made themselves or even touched. I can’t do it. I sound so mean and so nasty but I just can’t do it unless the kid is like forcing me to eat the thing in front of them. I’ll always tell them I’ll eat it later and throw it away when they’re not looking. One time my step dad’s kid made me a cupcake or something to eat. I took it and was very thankful that he made it for me but I never even touched it, I threw it on the fire later on and lied instead. I’m sorry but the thought of being contaminated with a child’s dirty hands is not worth it.

This brings me onto something else that might explain why I take a general, not dis-likening but uneasiness when it comes to children. I’ve always liked being immature. Not in a childish way but doing things that are stereotypically activities for children. I like coloring in, doing puzzles, playing games and decorating cookies sometimes. It’s just a fun thing to do. But when a child is around you immediately have to relegate those activities to the child. I hate this. I like baking, but if a child is around you have to let them stir in the ingredients and decorate the cake. I sit there thinking “But I want to decorate the cake!” as pathetic as that sounds. Any enjoyment you get from immature activities is taken from you by a child with dirty hands. When me and my bf were out once we saw some cookie making kit or something and I thought how fun that sounded. My bf, having a child, immediately thinks how fun it would sound… for his child. So I just have to go “Oh… oh yeah” and then later watch in envy as they messily decorate and smother chocolate over the furnishings. I guess it’s immature of me to want to be selfish and enjoy things meant for children. I’m not saying I have a problem with sharing activites with children. It can be fun to play games and both get enjoyment, but I hate the fact that once a child’s in the picture, that activity is no longer yours, the child always takes top priority. And that’s just how it is.

I guess this is the conclusion of what I’m saying. Right now I don’t want a child and I realised I don’t want a child because I am selfish. And that is a horrible thing to say – I can admit to that. But at the end of the day, I’m only 20 years old. I think I’m entitled to still be that selfish person. And when I decide that I’m done with being selfish and playing my immature childish games and decorating cookies with glitter with NO HELP AT ALL, then I might consider having a tiny someone who can take the top spot instead.

I hate being home alone 19/02/2013

It’s currently 3am in America. Or 8am in English time as it says on my desktop. My boyfriend will be home in an hour. I’ve been home alone since 6pm. I hate being home alone. It makes me misreble. Whenever I find time alone to myself I always think about depressing things.


Lately, I’ve had this niggling feeling that he is cheating on me. I know he can’t be, as I can’t possibly think of a time when he could get out the house to go cheat. But regardless, he’s cheated before by talking and flirting with girls online and I often wonder what he’s hiding on his phone. I’ve been thinking lately about taking it while he’s asleep and having a look through. I don’t know what I’m scared of – him finding out I looked through it or finding out he IS cheating. I dread finding out that he is. My whole world would come crashing down again like it did the first time I found out he cheated. But sadly, I know he’s the cheating type. I don’t know if a lepoard can change their spots, or whatever the phrase is, all I know is he says I’m the one person he’s ever loved the most, and I believe him when he says that, because he proposed to me. I know he loves me a lot, but will that stop him from wanting to cheat on me? Our relationship seems to always be on rocky ground, will that make him cheat? When he’s suspicious of my actions and what I may be doing when he’s not looking, is that cover up for what he’s actually doing? When I playfully take his phone and pretend to look through it and he takes it back is he just playing along? Annoyed I’ve taken it? Or is he worried about me finding something out? That innocent text message I saw he sent to a random number, was it just a mistake? Or had he deleted all previous text messages because it was to a woman he was flirting with and didn’t want me to see? There’s so many questions just floating in my mind. It’s terrorizing me. It’s destroying me.

While he’s away, I look through his things sometimes, half heartidly looking for something to upset me. He has a CD in his filing cabinet. There’s no label on it, no nothing. He’s obviously keeping it for a reason, it can’t just be blank. Is there something bad on it? Why would he keep it on top of everything where I could so easily find it though if it was? Ah, my paranoid mind. This is what happens when you cheat on someone, they can just never trust again. When I found out he cheated I found out I didn’t know him at all. And that doubt still lingers in my mind to this day.

I don’t want to confront him. Because if I did he will obviously deny it and delete anything on his phone just in case. I guess I’ll take his phone one night… I’ll just have to gain some courage first.

I’m sat here now just with some alcohol on the side. I don’t think I could ever become alcoholic. Although I do seem to turn to it when I’m stressed out. Mainly I drink to get drunk. It can be fun to just be a bit giggly for a while, make things seem bubbly and harmless. Alcohol doesn’t taste good enough for me to become alcoholic I don’t think. Even the best tasting drinks I can only tolerate. I’ve inherited my mother’s built in anti-alcoholic device – the instant headache, too. Which is natures best deterrent.

Thinking about all this just makes me realise there’s so much I can’t talk to my boyfriend about. He’s the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with and our relationship seems so jagged. Sometimes he’s like a complete stranger to me. I shouldn’t mention ex boyfriends but my last boyfriend I could tell anything to, we had a really great relationship but I just stopped loving him. It’s not that it didn’t work it just.. didn’t work out. My boyfriend I know is the one for me but our relationship feels like it’s not working. It’s so weird and difficult to be in this situation. With a man I love so deeply but can’t express my thoughts to. I know it’s because we argue so much, everything turns into a argument. We need to improve our relationship, be honest and open with each other before we can get anywhere. I hate staring at my engagement ring on the side table. I haven’t stopped to think if I don’t wear it anymore because it’s a bit too big and annoys me or if it’s because I don’t want this engagement.

I want this man in my life so much, but without trust and an ability to talk to one another, what do we have? Who knows… I can’t wait till he comes home and I can hopefully stop dwelling on this depressing stuff, just go back to normal for a few hours.

Ricky Gervais makes a joke in my favourite podcast “The Ricky Gervais Show” about Karl Pilkington’s girlfriend leaving him “shiny objects” around the house in her absense so he doesn’t get too depressed and think “weird stuff.” I think I need that!