How do I Physically Trust?

I’ve figured out that at the moment, I’m finding it pretty much impossible to trust anyone in THAT way.

The ambiguous “that”, which reminds me of a pointed nudge or a meaningful stare in the eye, refers to relationships. All aspects: partly emotionally, but mostly physically right now. Because of all of it, I’ve come to the (sensible) conclusion that I really, really shouldn’t involve myself with anyone in that sense for a long time.

I do not trust anyone, at all, to not hurt me. My fragile mental state, where I’m balanced somewhere between okay and so far from okay that it almost doubles back, means that anything could tip me off the edge. Paranoia, coupled with an endless clingy tendency, leaves me constantly wondering why the fuck people would care about me. That isn’t healthy, especially in a relationship.

It’s not anything to dwith the people I’ve been in relationships with. They are lovely, and have been nothing but kind and considerate towards me, but it’s just that I can’t deal with romantic physical “intimacy” (that word makes me feel sick) or emotional attachment.

My body is another thing. If you want to be physically WITH someone, you need to trust that they won’t make you feel like shit. I’ve been in a situation where I’ve separated the physical from feelings, and that’s totally okay, because sometimes you need that. There’s no use in judging people for it, because at the end of the day, it could make them happy which is so importan!. However, it gets to a point where though you trust them, you don’t trust yourself. I don’t trust me not to do something idiotic, or to destroy my feelings. I already feel urgh enough as it is, so adding to that would just break me a bit.

Who am I kidding? There is literally NO way I could have anything with anybody right now. For one, I’m so damaged from the past year of crap that anything else would confuse me and make me worse. For another, I recently became single, and you always need time to process that and deal with the loss with something. Thirdly, my mistrust of whoever would be unfortunate enough to have something with me would impact negatively on both of us.

Even if I still have feelings for S, I know that nothing will happen with us in the future, which is helping me recover a bit. It stings like hell and I want to cry a lot of the time, but Iw be able to smile one day. I’m drowning in memories but at some point, they’ll become happy ones and I won’t flinch at the thought of anyone kissing me.

I want to tell you something. Your body is your own, and don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. What you do is your choice, no one else’s; with every “physical” thing I’ve had, I’ve made it very clear to the person in question that if either of us felt pressured, you should talk about it.

In the not too distant future, I might get caught up in the moment and kiss someone (but honestly who would be willing to do that) or get momentary feelings, but that would start a whole other cycle of horrendousness. I’m not at all prepared to deal with that, not so soon after I’ve had my heart smashed.

I dislike my body, particularly now. Others have let me have confidence in myself, like you guys, but that’s all been thrown out of the window as my feelings of inadequacy have surfaced again. The thought of someone seeing my body, now, calling me beautiful, saying I’m perfect – it makes me feel ill. That unsettled feeling would be totally detrimental in any situation, emotional or physical.

I know that not everyone will hurt me. But how can I not help feeling defensive, worried, when I’m always thinking I’m being ignored/ hated by many people? Perhaps it’s irrational, but that’s how my thoughts operate.

Letting you glimpse a bit of my mind has helped me sort things out. This post may be a bit disjointed, but my point is this: if you feel you’re not ready for something, the likelihood is that you aren’t. Don’t force yourself to do something JUST because it seems right, or just because it’s in the moment. Think about it: will it make you happy, or will you be always on edge?

I’m strong enough to think of myself. It’s NOT wrong, not stupid, and I should never do something that will shove my feelings aside. I hope I can remember that, because S and Pansy taught me that I’m actually important to them.

I’m not saying that I’ll never trust again, because I know someone will arrive who’ll let me have faith in them not to rip my heart into shreds. That day isn’t today, though, and it won’t be for a while. I need to stick to my logic and realise that I’m NOT in any state to physically be with anyone. Or emotionally.

That’s okay. Life isn’t all about romance, and it isn’t all about that type of love.

From Elm 🙂

My Terrible Voice is Back!

A few months ago, I used to make voice recordings for this blog, which I put up on Youtube.

I miss doing that, and because I was bored today, I decided to record a new “video”. My new followers most likely won’t have heard my voice (you really aren’t missing out because I sound painfully posh) and since I’m awful at staying anonymous, here it is!

This one is 8 minutes of me talking about my breakup, which you can read about here. More spefically, I haven’t been dealing with it well, and I want both you and I to learn from that.

Breakups are horrible. Even though mine ended with no argument, no anger, it’s still very painful for me and that’s alright; how could it NOT be? There’s always going to be a certain sadness about things ending, which I’ve experienced in the (three) breakups I’ve had, to varying degrees. You have as well, or you will, and don’t be scared of it.

I’m not expecting this recording to be groundbreaking, or anything. It’s just one girl rambling about her rather insignificant problems, but I wanted to do it on voice. It’s all very well to write it down and I mostly prefer that, because I’m a blogger at heart, but I sometimes need to let you hear the true emotions of my words.

I hold no bitterness towards S or Pansy: they are lovely people. I want them to be the happiest they’ve ever been, because I know their great qualities and I also know that they fit together. That’s all I can ask: for them to smile. I don’t want to come across as angry with them, because I’m not in the slightest.

Yes, I’m paranoid and sad and I think that people hate me, but soon, I’ll prove that wrong. At least some people love me, and I’ll hold onto that.

Also, I’ve just realised – at the end, I refer to what I did as a “post”. Excuse me while I cringe in a corner.

If you got to the end of that recording, thank you. My posh voice astounds even me, and if you’re hearing me for the first time then heyy! For the record, I’m not a youtuber (that is HILARIOUS), only a blogger who likes to speak occasionally.

From Elm 🙂

A Little Segment of Internet Nostalgia

Back in the day – and by that I mean a year ago – I sent a lot of emails to my friend Ivy.

That had been happening since we were 12, like a routine. Sometimes, when I want to remember friendship, I look back and smile: when a crisis happened, I emailed her, usually with a long explanation. Over the past year, we’ve used messenger more to communicate, when we can’t call or see each other. Emails, though, are something I can never forget.

When I was 12, I used to email S (my now ex-boyfriend) a lot. Due to my, er, weird tendancies as a tween, he now has several horrendously embarrassing voice recordings that I sent to him. It’s become an on-going joke between us, because we both have recordings and emails that could mortify the other. Oh god, I don’t even want to think about the shit I said which I thought was cool at the time. My voice sounded like I knew everything and there’s one particularly awful one that I REFUSE to contemplate.

Now, the main group I email are bloggers. Saved in a folder far far away are some of the loveliest messages I’ve ever received from anyone, so well thought-out and beautiful to read. Whenever I get an email from one of you, it makes my day; I need to start emailing people more who I haven’t spoken to in a while.

I often find it “easier” to write an email to someone. I’m notorious for not replying to people, but with email, I can compose it spend TIME on it, without being pressured to respond just then. I can think more about what I want to write, which makes it less stressful. Because of Ivy, andother people, emails hold a special meaning to me. It’s rare now that I actually write one that’s not to teachers or bloggers, rarer even that I receive them, and whenever I do it’s nice and makes me smile.

On the Internet, in my files and folders and buried somewhere in the archives of Wattpad/Facebook/Twitter are a lot of things that I either love, despise or want to hide forever.

In addition to my voice recordings and nostalgic emails, there is:
• My various roleplay characters (I miss them)
• Various messenger conversations such as with Ash, which I just refuse to read because they’re either too uncomfortable or awful
• A horrific story I wrote when I was 7, that I typed up two years ago to keep (WHY?)
• Tweets from my 12-year-old self, more specifically the ones about the boyfriend I had then and the attention-seeking and overdramatic ones that came after that
• My ranty, three-paragraph long facebook posts from when I was 13. I was known for them, which now I think of it, is kind of bad
• My incredibly weird facebook comments and posts, plus numerous arguments I had various people (by the end of it, I enjoyed arguing and just did it for the banter)
• A video of me singing when I was 8 in my friends Poppy and Rose’s bathroom, in which I sound like a fly
• An even worse one of me attempting to do “sport”, which my dad plays to people sometimes when they come over
• Possibly the worst one of all: one of me when I was 11, talking about books. I’m not revealing any more because anonymity

Even if many of these make me cringe, or smile, I’ll always remember them with a sort of exasperated fondness. I’m looking back over Ivy’s emails and smiling because they are just so nice, and some I sent were nonsensical.

The ones from S are even funnier, as they’re just one line in an email attached to a voice recording. “Happy now?” “Shhhh” and “HEREEE” are just some of them. What was I thinking?

At some point, I’ll take a trip down memory lane, to properly show you my… Interesting internet side. For example, I have a document called “Bugger off” and “S’s shitty ramblings” and whenever I read them, I burst out laughing, like today when I was supposed to be having a free lesson.

I don’t plan on deleting any emails, or files, from when I was younger. They’re a reminder of who I was, all of the strange things I did, which make me who I am today.

Do you have anything terribly embarrassing/cute/nice on the Internet?

From Elm 🙂

Heartbreak in The City of Love

(I wrote this late last night)

Over the last two weeks, I’ve cried more than I have over the last two months. That makes me sad, except the knowledge that for most of these crying episodes, I was around people that could help me. I’m proud of myself for that.

When you’ve been cheated on, no matter if you don’t blame the person, no matter how happy you are for them – it still feels like you’re getting repeatedly smashed in the heart by a broken do-not-disturb sign, which obviously failed at keeping uou the shitty emotions. Perhaps I should be grateful for it, because if I’d have blocked it out like I did my last heartbreak, I know it would have been ten times worse.

In case you didn’t know, I went to Paris in the half term – read this post for more details. Although there were many good times, there were also some horrendous times, and I’m going to explain them to you because it wasn’t all laughter and happiness, at all.

I made a promise to S, when we spoke before Paris, that if I felt miserable I’d find someone. Whether that be him, someone like L or Violet, or even a staff member – just that I’d find someone so that I wasn’t alone. He knows how I get, that sometimes I’ll shut away and not talk because I don’t want to be a drain on anyone. For the most part, I kept that promise, remembering it when my heart hurt so badly that I wanted to break all of my fingers.

I cannot describe to you just how much emotional pain I was in when I saw – heard – them together. Though I was expecting it, preparing myself for it, nothing can prepare you for the sting, the gut-wrenching fear when you realise it’s entirely over. I felt second, terrible, because they spoke with such ease and laughed and I asked myself, “Could you EVER be like that? Could you speak like that, no, because you’re not funny and you’re just trying too hard.” And I dealt with it, until I literally couldn’t.

Crying on people makes me feel bad for them, even though I find it easier to get the tears out. I’ve always had a problem with putting myself first, because I’m just not able to do anything without asking how the other person feels, if THEY are okay, and apologising. Constantly. I said sorry when I lost my cane and cried on S, and for all the other times. I said sorry – or thought it over and over – whenever I accidentally made a pointed/despairing remark.

He has been so lovely, like you wouldn’t imagine. Because he knows me so well, he can predict how I’ll be, how much of a wreck I am. He didn’t make me feel stupid for crying, and oh for fuck’s sake here come the tears again. When I remember we’ve broken up, that nothing can be the same like THAT again, tears come spilling out of my eyes like they’re waterfalls; I know he’ll always be there for me in a friend capacity but god I just can’t.

On the first night, I cried a little on Violet, when we stayed in the first hotel. She was my constant support through all of it, and when we were actually IN Paris, we were in the boys’ room. She went out, I followed a few minutes later, and she found me. After that, I cried so much that my eyes hurt, and I told her exactly how broken I feel, my voice echoing too loud in the corridor. It had got too much, with the constant reminders, me feeling trapped and lonely and SO damn awful because I’ve been replaced, utterly, and what can I do?

That Thursday was when we went to the Eiffel Tower. Over 100 metres up, on the second floor, we stopped. S and Pansy were on the section below, I stared down at the nothingness I could see and let one tear fall. I knew that they would be having a good time, that it would be special for them because it’s Paris and it’s romantic, and all I could think about was the world away from that which I felt: I whispered to Violet, “It’s funny that Paris is the city of love, and yet my heart’s completely broken.” Others went as they came up, going to the other side of the tower – not on purpose – and that was when I sobbed my eyes out on the bloody Eiffel Tower.

That was also when John, a volunteer, found me. My tears were falling over the edge, in an oddly poetic way, and I could feel my heart bruising and shattering all over again: when I think about it, it makes me feel cold. Just remembering me standing, whispering “Mon cœur est brisée” and emitting these broken-sounding gasps that I didn’t know I could produce. They, I was pretty sure, would remember that day as something so happy, for them, when I would remember it as the day where I felt the most separated from anything. John came up to me and I told him something of what I was feeling – the obvious, that you could see in how they close they were, and the expression on my face. Nothing he couldn’t work out on his own, if he tried, and I cried whilst leaning on his shoulder and non-staring out at the air because that was all I could do. He walked with me in the tower, talking, telling me that one day I’d be okay even if that day wasn’t today.

I think that the worst crying episode I had, not counting one of the ones with S, was with Violet, her boyfriend and L. It properly hit me then what had happened, gripping L’s hand so hard I thought I’d break it, as I whispered “I’ve been cheated on, I’ve been CHEATED ON, fuck it hurts.” Because it did, and does, and sometimes I want to scream from it. I couldn’t get many words out through my tears, as I told them how empty I felt.

When it boils down to it, I’m not okay. Today, it kept on sinking in: that they’d be at school together and I wouldn’t be, that I was there helpless. I can do NOTHING. You can’t help someone’s feelings, and if they’re happy then I’m going to be happy: they deserve it. I don’t know how long it’ll take, and I’m half-crying again because I just want the pain to fucking STOP. I hate feeling like this, like my heart’s folding in on itself, like my throat’s choking me, and it makes it worse because all I want is for people to smile with each other.

I spoke to Pansy a lot. Though we don’t see each other often, I view her as a close friend, because she’s never been awful to me and she’s such a good person. The second night, we stayed up until 1:30 and talked. The next night, we stayed up until 3: I told her about Ash and remembered just why I value her. Originally, I wasn’t going to speak to her because I was much too scared, but by the second day I knew I needed to – for both her and my sake. She may not understand my pain, but she tried and that’s all that matters.

Then again, I don’t think anybody can truly understand anyone else’s pain. At the moment, the following has built up into a howling crescendo, so that in my last lesson today I felt weak and so sad that I wanted to freeze.

• I feel like I’m not good enough
• That I was NEVER good enough
• I can’t think about anyone else without wanting to disappear
• I’m asking myself why, just WHY
• You never know you’re capable of doing something until you do it, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing
• This may not be a definitive END but it’s the end of one thing and the start of another, for him
• People keep saying things that are seriously toxic to me
• I can’t forget my feelings for him
• His feelings for me are fading, and those for her are growing and I’m so glad of that, because right now he doesn’t need confusion
• He DID like me but it’s all ended now and I have to deal with it
• I’m crying again, little tears

I have strong feelings for him and that kills me. I feel as if I’m breaking, one brick at a time, and that I’m going to be left in the dust, scrabbling like a needy fuck. I don’t want to be the clingy one, but I don’t want to lose him either. I don’t want to lose him like I did Ash, where I couldn’t do anything, but where I STILL blamed myself. I can’t keep going back, but it’s not going back. He’s one of my best friends and yes, he’ll always be in the back of my mind in that capacity, but I hope it can fade. At some point. I’m not kidding myself – it won’t be quick at all – but that’s alright.

There’s too much, too many unresolved tears and feelings. I’m scared people will get sick of me, of my constant not-okay-ness, when how the fuck am I supposed to get up from this now? I’m expected to jump up, smile, tell the world I’m good in a moment but I’m not in the slightest and I can’t pretend. My work ethic has gone down the drain and I can’t exactly tell my teachers, “Sorry Miss, I’m recently single, I felt too shit to do my homework!” because that is such a bad “excuse” and they don’t care anyway.

All my fears are swarming me here, late at night, in the dark where I’m hunched over as if I’m in physical pain. It feels like I am, sometimes, the coldness of rejection and heartbreak and loneliness leaving me breathless. Where am I supposed to go? Why does it hurt THIS badly and what am I doing?

Yeah, I’ll be okay. Bright now, I’m so incredibly scared of letting go, that my tears are falling faster and it’s good that I can’t see because I wouldn’t be able to read because of it. I’ll be alright, but they are and will be before me with each other and fuuuuuck why was it me that this had to happen too?

I wish it could have lasted longer. I wish I was happier for longer, that I didn’t feel guilty for crying. He respects me though, and I respect him because he has ALWAYS told me the truth, and been the amazing boyfriend and then friend that I knew he would be.

I think I’m going to get some sleep. Paris made me feel equal parts happy and sad, and today is reserved for sadness. That’s okay.

From Elm 🙂

The Beauty in Paris

When I wade through all of the other stuff that happened, I really enjoyed going to Paris. How could I not? It’s an amazing city, filled with so many things, and walking down the streets and listening to people talking gave me the enjoyment I needed.

I’ll dwell on the pain tomorrow. Today is reserved for the amazing things that happened, the light and smiles and almost magic. So, I’ll run through what happened, snapshot by snapshot, to show you a little of what it was like.

S, my ex-boyfriend, came to stay with us on Sunday, as you saw by my last post. That involved talking things out, dealing with emotions and other things I really don’t want to talk about, and surprisingly a lot of happiness. You don’t realise just how much you miss someone until they’re there again, even if not in the way you’d like them to be, but that’s a whole other bucket of shit.

On Tuesday, we took a train and a cab up to a travel lodge in King’s Cross. After we met up with people, I screamed for about ten minutes when I reunited with Violet and the girl who now has an unofficial “thing” with S, I’ll call her… Pansy, because she’s someone who means a lot to me. I hadn’t seen her in a year, and so when we met up again, we laughed until we howled, walked around the hotel trying to find a toilet, got lost when we attempted to find our room and so much more. It’s easy to be around her, and a lot of the sadness melted away because I KNOW she’s a great person.

We spent the night there, singing in the communal area, doing a lot of shouting and just making new friends or reuniting with old ones. I shared a room with Pansy and another girl that night, and we stayed up until 1 as we couldn’t sleep, speaking about deep shit but also laughing until our sides ached.

The morning was kind of hectic. We ate breakfast early, listening to the classic bustle of London, as I sat with L and Violet and ate a croissant (I was getting into the French swing of things). We were taking the Eurostar, and so we went into St. Pancras (NOT Pancreas) but not before S and Pansy got a photo at Platform 9 and 3/4 at King’s Cross. Border control was easy, but it did involve me holding the hands of three strangers. Then, we boarded the Eurostar – I’d never been on it before and IT WAS SO COOL – which was uneventful as fuck, except for L finding chargers beneath the seats and Violet crying with laughter over a song on her boyfriend’s phone.

When we got there, we got on the Metro which was about the best thing ever for the whole trip. I’ll whizz through all of the days, what we did and how fun it was, so as not to bore anyone. For anyone that doesn’t know, the Metro is a train system in the City: think of the London tubes, but they run on wheels and have tyres; you’re much more likely to stumble and fall over, but the people don’t mind if you grab onto them.

On the Metro, I almost strangled S because I fell over, screamed and laughed. We arrived at the hotel (involving getting lost and being tired), relaxed for a little, but then went on a little tour of the surrounding area. I shared a room with Pansy and two other girls (one lovely, one not so). I also had to share a bed with Pansy, but because I’ve known her for 6 years, I didn’t feel uncomfortable.

A french woman, I think called Marie, took us to Montmartre. On the way, we tried a baguette from the bakery (French baguettes are beautiful), splashed water at each other, nearly got run over, almost got high off the smell of paint, and did so much walking that my feet hurt (then again, I’m VERY unfit as it is). Going to the Church, Sacré Cœur, was a great experience – it was quiet, echoing and majestic, and though I’m not religious at all, I loved it. Walking through it filled me with a horrendous sadness, but I won’t dwell on that: we walked out of the church and it mostly faded.

After that, we said bye to Marie (I spoke French to her or tried to), walked down the street singing hymns with Violet, and then went to relax. That day was bloody emotional as I spoke to both Violet and Pamsy, and tried to help Violet as much as I could. For dinner, we went to this adorable little Crêperie because the restaurant we’d planned to go to hadn’t received our booking. I think that was better, because it was just us there – about 15 of us including kids +volunteers, all laughing. I sat next to Pansy, and between eating, we whispered that we’d talk later, and I overheard some pretty weird conversations with Violet, her boyfriend and L. After my conversation with Violet, we all went up to the boys’ room – all 9 of us – and didn’t leave until about 11. I nearly lost my cane, and just sat on the floor like a rebel.

On Thursday, we went to the Eiffel Tower, and that day was simultaneously the best and worst – the latter, I’ll explain tomorrow. Being classic terrists, everyone was excited, exclaiming over the Eiffel tower-shaped EVERYTHING (Pansy bought pasta, L bought about six models of them, and others bought keyrings). For both Violet and I, there were some horrendously low points, but also high ones too. Standing near the edge of the tower’s second floor, I looked out. I couldn’t see a thing – S and Pansy could, on the bit of floor slightly below us, but I couldn’t. All I could see was sky, a bit that wasn’s sky where there was a boundary, and some darker things below that was an unbroken line of… Nothingness. How do I explain it?

There was a volunteer there, and I’ll use his real name – John. John understood me, because he found me standing there, and took me to walk around. He described it all, from the river to the buildings, and said that there was always something he noticed when he came back to look, that he hadn’t seen before. I opened up to him and another volunteer, and we went into the gift shop to see everything. I’d say that the people who made my week were him and the other volunteers, for just being so relaxed: when we stayed up until 1 that night, they didn’t bat an eyelid, and told us that it was our decision and that they wouldn’t stop us. Their thoughts were that we were responsible enough to make our own decisions, and because they were so relaxed, we could freely swear and yell in front of them (I called Jamie, another amazing volunteer, an utter fucking bastard once and he choked on his laughter).

On the Tower, L screamed “QUI VEUT ME MARRIER?!” (a phrase Violet and I repeated under a bridge the next day, whilst 5 french boys walked towards us). It means “Who wants to marry me?” and he got no response, except for screaming laughter from me. In the afternoon, we went on a river cruise down the Seine, in which I saw the sunlight glancing and shimmering off the water. We screamed various phrases as we went under bridges, and there’s a video of us chanting under one of them. I sang to myself a little, and talked at length to the girl who I shared a room with that first night; we’ve grown much closer now, which is great. Some drama also happened which wasn’t too pleasant, but for a little while over dinner, it was mostly forgotten. I ate snails – which are actually really nice – Pansy and Jamie sobbed whilst laughing (still don’t know why) and whilst we were walking to the the place, Violet and her boyfriend got lost. We thought they’d gone to the numerous sex shops which frequented the streets, because they promised me they would if I let them cheer me up, but psh they didn’t.

As I mentioned, we went to “bed” at 1: again, we hung out in the boys’ room. That involved S “falling asleep” though he was actually awake, which made me cackle like a witch. In case you didn’t know, L had his blogiversary on Friday, and so at exactly midnight I ran over to him and bugged him, squealing “I’m SO PROUD, you’re so old now eyyy!” and that probably scared him. After going back downstairs, I spoke with Pansy until 3. The rest of them didn’t sleep much at all – S only got about an hour and so was delirious with tiredness, something that still makes me laugh. There’s a photo of both Pansy and I hugging him, and he could barely put a sentence together because he was so exhausted. To be fair, our adventures on the Metro and the rest of the day woke him up.

Speaking of that, Friday was definitely my best day, before we went home. In the morning we went to the Louvre, to an amazing art gallery with sculptures. Translating into French braille is surprisingly difficult, and took me a while, but then I felt the recreation of every single sculture. The attention to detail was exquisite, the lines of the flowing robes, fingers and sweeping features giving you such a good impression of what it looked like. Then, I could appreciate art, standing in the silence of my little section of beauty, marvelling at how beautiful everything was: Venus, Mercury, the Three Graces, each figure standing tall despite its size. I loved it all, even the maps of castles, even when we walked through rooms with cobbles and rough walls. Jogn explained it all to me, staying by my side with all the statues, helping me when I got stuck on what something was.

He did the same too, when we went to the Notre Dame: I couldn’t see the decorations, the purple on the stained-glass windows, the high ceilings and model of it with all its spires, or the floor worn down by thousands of feet, but I got a good picture of it from him. We spoke about the Pope, Saints, religion and everything in between: it was nice to be there in the hushed quiet, feet clicking on stones and just walking, not reflecting on any pain, and just existing.

Now, it wasn’t all like that. Throughout the day, before and after going to the hotel to pick up our bags, things happeng that made me almost vomit with laughter:
• We had a leaf fight, where I got leaves in my hair and Jamie chucked leaves at the leader of our group
• We went to a chocolate shop: I fangirled over the selection, eventually buying the most beautiful hot chocolate (it was literally like LIQUID chocolate)
• I drank it, and then immediately ate ice cream. Don’t try that at home, kids.
• Jamie made me sit on a freezing, metal lounge chair, screamed “OI WATCH OUT THERE’s A PIGEON!” and poked me with a leaf. I screamed very loudly, jumped up and then proceeded to yell at him. L fell for it, too, and everyone laughed at us.
• We danced the Cha Cha Slide in the middle of the Notre Dame square. I wasn’t embarrassed, and eventualhy we fell on the floor. So many people stared at us, but to be honest, I dinn’t care.
• On the way to the Metro, Jamie made joke sexist comments, and I’ve never yelled “Right FUCK OFF!” in public before that day.

Four of us had to go on a separate train, because the previous one was so full. It was me, Chef Boob (e’s actually called Bob and isn’t a chef but that’s a long story), Jamie andthe girl I shared with that first night. Jamie tried to say a stop in French, to which the French couple next to us burst out laughing. The girl said, “Jamie, they’re all laughing at you, shut up!”
“We most certainly are,” replied a random french man. I started talking to him, unable to speak because Jamie was so embarrassing. When we left the train, Jamie shouted “Mercy buckets!” and I couldn’t stop laughing for the next 20 minutes.

On the Eurostar on the way back, Jamie, S, Pansy and I walked down to get food. That resulted in Pansy’s dolphin laugh, me falling into people’s arms who were sitting down, me accidentally groping a man’s stomach and the slowest food line ever. When we got back, we were all talking, which caused two to LEAVE the train carriage because we were being so loud. By the end, I was so tired that I couldn’t walk properly.

Saying goodbye was the hardest part: S was coming home with us, but I knew I wouldn’t be seeing Pansy for a while, or Violet. I promised to come and visit Pansy some time in her school, and I hugged John and Jamie because they were fabulous. It feels weird to be back in England, almost unreal, and I miss the laughter, Jamie’s awful French and everything else.

There were little snippets of things that I’ll always remember. I’ll never be able to think about the word “pulsating” in the same way; whenever I cough violently I screech, and there are too many inside jokes to count. I feel like I’ve grown closer to a lot and people now, something that I needed to do. I got more than I wanted out of Paris, in some ways.

Oh my GOD, that was a long post. I hope I’ve done Paris justice, and that you could see what I felt and what I experienced there. It was funny, insane, and I made friends with French people for about 5 seconds.

From Elm 🙂

People Will Actually Think I can Speak French

BONJOUR!

That’s not the only word je peux parler en Fran¢ais, and because of that, I’ve been told I can LITERALLY speak French. Um, there’s a slight problem with that… Whenever I try to speak, I can’t string sentences together.

Tomorrow, I’m travelling to Paris with a bunch of other blind people, including the fabulous L, S (my ex-boyfriend), Violet (another great friend of mine) and girl who S now likes. We’ll be back on Friday, but I doubt I’ll be able to post much in that time, because I’ll be busy wandering the streets of Paris, trying to laugh, and most likely singing High School Musical songs at the top of my lungs with L. It’s happened every time we’ve seen each other before, and has turned into a kind of tradition.

Last time I went to Paris was about ten years ago, and so I don’t remember it much. However, I have beautiful memories of France in general – having the best time of my life with Robin, lying by the pool, feeling like a teenager. I’m hoping that in Paris this time, I’ll get that same experience, because I really really need it now.

If you read my post on Saturday you’ll know that I’m not exactly the happiest person at the moment. That still applies, and though having S here has helped, I’m still really not 100 percent. We’ve talked everything out, I’ve cried about 20 buckets of water and we’ve been entirely honest with each other, but again, the feelings of sadness still remain. They won’t be going away for a while, and especially because I’ll have to see those two together, in Paris it’ll be amplified.

However, that’s why I’m going to try and enjoy myself. With the help of L and Violet, S Club 7 songs and more honesty with S, I should be able to get through it. I’m hopefully not going to be crying too much, and if I do, I’ve agreed to find someone so I don’t have to do it alone. That’s the advantage of having someone you can truly talk things over with around you, and I appreciate it more than I can say. I’ve always found it difficult to put myself first, in any situation, but I suppose that now’s the time to try.

My mind’s a bit of a blur, to be honest. I’ll go from being slightly okay to being so not okay that I feel blank inside, eyes staring into nothing. When I get back from Paris, I’ll definitely write a post explaining how I’m feeling: the good, the bad and the confused; there will most likely be a lot of that.

Je te parlerai le Samedi – YES I know that’s most likely incorrect; I can’t bloody speak French! If people make me try and speak, my voice will sound about three octaves higher and four times faster as I try and garble out words that don’t even make sense. Uuugh, how am I supposed to do this?

I haven’t been able to read your posts recently either; things have been hectic, both literally and in my mind. How have you been? If you’re going anywhere this half term or this holiday, then let me know.

Seeing certain people will be tricky, but I’m looking forward to Paris. It’ll give me a chance to get away, and to start to heal a little from how bad I feel. This could either set me back or push me forward, and I’m hoping – I’m trying – for it to be the latter.

From Elm 🙂

What’s Really Been Going On

I’ve not been entirely honest with you.

Though I’ve never outright lied, so much about the truth of what’s been happening and how I’ve felt about it I’ve not told you, simply because it’s either too confusing or I can’t deal with it. But now, when I feel like I’m falling to pieces, I’m going to explain exactly what’s been happening over the past three weeks. Why I’m now single, why I respect my (ex) boyfriend, but why I feel the worst I think I’ve ever felt.

S – my ex-boyfriend now (it hurts to say that so I’ll be referring to him as S) – goes to a boarding school about three hours away from me. This is his first year there, and it’s small, so there aren’t many people in his year. One of the people there is someone I posted about here. She’s a girl I’ve known for 6 years, and though we haven’t talked much recently, in the past we shared a lot of stuff and she was, and is, someone I think is kind and a wonderful person.

S and this girl are very close friends, and had been ever since he started in that school. I was constantly paranoid that the you would get together, because I’m me, but S and I talked every day and so that paranoia faded, because I know he’d never INTENTIONALLY hurt me. This girl and S talked a lot, and I’m presuming that the girl told S about her insecurities (which I’m presuming are similar to mine) and I hope she did, because he’s a trustworthy person. I became a bit more clingy, which I’m really annoyed at myself for, but in the days of uncertainty where I didn’t know what would happen, it’s my natural reaction to do that. I should really do something about that.

About two weeks ago, they went on a trip to do a really cool sport. On the way back, she told him that she liked him and had ever since he’t started. That night, he told me – he’s always made a point of doing so, even when he knew it would make me feel terrible. I wasn’t HAPPY, but I can very much understand why she likes him.

He was terrified that he’d do something stupid, that she’d kiss him and he’d respond. I told him that it was a human reaction, that it was okay, because if he DID grow feelings for her then he couldn’t help it. They are around each other all the time and so it would be better that he not hurt her, and if feelings did develop, then he should go out there and get happiness. I’m trying not to let my emotions warp my words. When he was confused about the two of us, I thought it was logical conclusion for him to choose her, partly because I thought and think that I’m ALWAYS the worst option but also because it would be easier for him.

Two days later, he told me that he had feelings for her. Actually, it was more like me asking him if he did because I knew he wasn’t okay, and then him confirming it. I broke a little then, just a little, and whenever I cry at him I feel bad for it because he doesn’t EVER deserve to feel guilty. I knew he felt terrible, confused, sad – all of the emotions I’ve experienced before.

On Wednesday, they kissed. They were saying goodbye, because she was going to something – not sure what – and in the moment, they kissed, and it was about the emotion and I’m sure it made them feel happy and great. I’m genuinely glad if it did because I truly, truly understand that sentiment.

The one person who has truly helped me through this is Rapunzel, my ex-girlfriend, even though both S and I put her through shit. My respect for her has skyrocketed, because through it all, she’s been there to talk to me and listen to me. She let onto me that something had happened, not actually telling me that it had, but I guessed and she couldn’t deny it when she said she’d spoken to him for two hours. It had been on my mind for the past week, and so it was no wonder that my mind immediately jumped to that conclusion.

It was then that I broke completely. He told me later that night, everything that had happened, and how bad he felt. But with Rapunzel, before I had spoken to him, I shattered. I have never cried that hard, walked around my room and felt everything falling, talking about morbid things with horrifying ease and causing my mind to twist until I could get it back to its regular shape.

I told her that I just wanted to die. I wanted it all to stop, and I knew it would pass but at that moment, I wanted to die. Afterwards, when the raw pain had faded a little, she said I had such desperation and hopelessness in my voice and I realise now that it was true. Both when she and he were talking to me, at one point I was on the floor, but I didn’t let him see me at that low point because he doesn’t deserve to, as it would make him feel worse. He feels guilty enough as it is, and I don’t think he should – is that messed up?

I still respect S a lot, because through it all, he’s told me the truth. He hasn’t bullshitted, or lied, and he’s quite frankly said how he feels.

I’m going to make a list of what I think about the situation, because it’ll help me cope.

• I want everyone to be happy
• Both him and the girl deserve to smile because they’ve been through a lot, and if that’s with each other, then it’s good for them
• I don’t exactly care about my happiness when those two are happy, because I knew someone would get hurt in this situation
• It’s better that I did than her, because I wouldn’t have to see him every day
• I’m used to not feeling great, and so I didn’t want her to feel like this. It’s fucking awful. I don’t mean to sound so desolate.
• She’s such a lovely person and I don’t blame her at all, because she was just getting something she wanted
• I don’t blame him for the same reason – they’re human, and she’s someone who’s unbelievably talented and is all around a good person

However, my emotions are so painful at the moment that I can’t do anything. I’m half-crying, when I didn’t want to, tears sliding down my face. And so, despite all of my acceptance of this, because how could I not accept it – I feel so miserable. So awful.

I’m seeing him tomorrow. He’s coming round to mine, because we’re going to Paris in the half term with a bunch of other VI people. He’s still my friend – he thought I’d never want to see him again because of how he (indirectly) hurt me – but he couldn’t be more wrong. No matter what he did, I know that he never did it vindictively.

The only catch? She’ll be there. I’ll have to be around them when they’re together and FUCK, I’m honest to god crying now, because I can’t deal with it. I’m going to be feeling like this for so long and I hate it. If I don’t sob all the time, I’ll be surprised, but I can’t let her see me like that. She shouldn’t know how much pain I’m in because I just want her to be happy and to NOT have that clouded with my sadness; it wouldn’t be fair.

To be honest, I’m sick of everything going to shit. In the last year, it seems as if I’ve had 2-3 months of being happy in a relationship, before something starts to go wrong. When I was with S the first time, I messed that up. Three months after being with Aspen, I realised I didn’t have feelings for him, and that made me feel so guilty that I couldn’t cope. Rapunzel broke up with me after two months and then SO much shit kicked off (not her fault) and now, this.

I can’t give myself a break. This, coupled with everything that’s been happening in the last few months, has all piled up to make my heart smash. How am I supposed to be strong, when I feel so weak? How am I supposed to be okay when nothing I feel is alright and I just want to disappear?

I feel like I’ve been replaced. That even though it’s no one’s fault, I’m just not good enough, and the reality of that is burning me. Why can’t things be okay? Why do my eyes have to leak tears like they’re broken; WHY do I have to feel numb inside one second, hollow the next and so sad that I can’t breathe the next? It’s like the optimism has been scraped out of me, the gold and bronze replaced with a grey, metallic blur.

No one deserves to see this side of me, when I feel like giving up. My incoherent thoughts, scattered like leaves in Autumn, until I’m so tired and so upset and so awful. I want it to stop. Am I overreacting?

My heart hurts. It feels like there’s a hole in my chest, dark and bitter and scary, and it’s frazed and ragged around the edges like an open wound. I feel pathetic, because what if I can’t get my act together? In school, I’ve been acting like I’m fine, failing in certain lessons where I find it difficult to get motivation to do work. If this continues after the half term, I’ll do terribly on my mocks, and it’ll affect all of my learning.

Speaking to S has helped, a little. After telling him that I wouldn’t post about this to protect his privacy, he asked if I wanted to, to which I replied “Maybe, but I won’t because I don’t want people to get the wrong impression of you.” He then Encouraged me to post about it, to get my emotions out, which I really appreciate. Before anything, he has been my friend, and I won’t throw that away even when my sadness feels like it’s bleeding.

My friends have been supportive, too, helping me out. They understand when I say that I am miserable, that nothing they can do will help me much, except being here and cheering me up. I need it, and I need to be able to deal with this and want to die sometimes. I haven’t harmed myself, except for nails digging into my palms when I feel as if I’m about to break, and not sleeping much, but I can prevent that. I’m sorry if that triggered anyone.

It hits me, at certain points in the day. Realising that it’s over, knowing that she’ll be his first for things I haven’t been, feeling empty inside because I’m so done with getting hurt and so done with feeling and trying all the time, when relationships shouldn’t be ABOUT constantly trying. Over and over again, the only difference now being that I can’t blame myself, and that kills.

They will be happy, but I won’t. They’ll live, and I’ll live, but I just dinn’t know how much. I want to be okay, but realistically I don’t see that happening any time soon, but it will in the future. As I said earlier, I feel the worst I’ve felt – worse than Ash, worse than when my sister was going through hell, because at the time I didn’t understand. Everything’s built up and I am sick of wishing for something and having it ripped away, no matter how selfish and attention-seeking it is.

Hello Elm, you got cheated on. Your relationship is over, and it will never go back to how it was before. Stop hoping, stop trying to hope, and STOP distracting yourself to try and make yourself feel more human. One day, you’ll be okay but for now you’re not and you just have to find ways to be. Oh, and your heart’s broken again.

Oh God.

The thought of getting with other people literally makes me feel sick. People saying that I’ll find someone else doesn’t help, at the moment, because I just don’t care. To some people it may be comforting, but for me it just reminds me of how unconfident and lonely I feel, and how everything feels as if it’s entirely destroyed and screaming around inside my head.

When I go to Paris, I’ll worry about my mental state. I’ll be nice to the girl, because she doesn’t deserve me being awful to her, as she’s human and I don’t know if I wouldn’t have done the same in her situation. I think I’ll feel worse than I do now, but that’s okay because it’s better than shutting it out. If it gets particularly and consistently bad, I WILL go and see someone, I promise.

I’ll update you on anything that happens. I’m not angry; I’m just upset and I feel like nothing will be okay, even though it will be. I just needed to get this out before I start to mend.

From Elm 🙂

Finally Realising I’m Useful to People

This morning, Birch called me an absolute ledge. After choking on my laughter, wiping tears from my eyes and finally being able to breathe properly, I felt mystified. I’ve never been called a ledge before – short for legend, not the window ledge kind of thing. Because who wants to be compared to a piece of building?

To be fair, I was helping him out with history homework – like I’ve been doing for the past two years. It’s become almost a routine, broken by the holidays and any periods of not talking. I thought he thought he was too cool to ask me for help this year, because even though we’re in the same history class and he sits a seat away from me, I thought that he could ask anyone else. That I was literally nothing to him: too weird, too outside, too ANYTHING. That he’d forgotten the laughter we used to share, the conversations and the knowledge that we we weren’t quite friends, but we wouldn’t stand by if the other needed help.

Then again, why WOULD he have voluntarily sat near me if he thought I was a moron? Maybe it was a coincidence, but I think that even he would have felt a bit weird to break the routine of sitting near each other in history. Him asking me for help this morning was a jolt back to the past, where I thought that him doing that was something more when it was just him needing my help with academics. I’m not kidding myself now: it is what it is, and there are no illusions of him wanting to hang out with me after class. It might seem cruel for him to “use” me, but I – for some reason – feel secure when he asks for help? I don’t need his validation, but for someone to want to ask me for help is nice. Indirectly, he’s showing me I’m of some value to him. Even if it is for homework, it’s something; I’m the person he goes to.

That message sent me on a path of thought, where I asked myself if I WAS – and ever had been – useful to people. Useful friendship-wise, but just also resource-wise; I prefer the former, but the latter makes me feel worth something and I need all the reassurance I can get on that front because I’m an insecure pebble sometimes. To some people, they might be bitter at being wanted for shit like homework er academic advice; I used to ask myself if that was all I was good for, but in the end it makes me feel intelligent and like I’m trusted to HELP people if they’re struggling with work.

Being wanted for advice is a great thing. I don’t crave it as I once did – if I feel like nobody trusts me, I DO lock myself into a loop of feeling I’m worthless, but I pick myself up in the end. But a simple request from someone if they want to talk is one of the best feelings, because they’re showing me that they can trust me. That I’m good enough at giving advice that they’d come to me with their issues. Wren, Willow, Red, Odd or whoever: I feel like I’m properly doing something when I help someone with anything they need.

You guys have let me see that I can do things, too. Thinking I’m not a horrific person isn’t arrogant. In the Blogosphere, people trust me enough to ask advice from me, or to appreciate my words. I can shriek about my love life, or ramble about nonsensical shit, and you STILL put up with me. Friends who I’ve made here talk to me, and let me help them – with blogging, with real life, and it doesn’t make me feel like the clunky useless thing I used to feel like.

Actually making me believe I’m not just a thing that people could do without is another matter. It took S – my boyfriend – a rather long time to convince me I mean more than something to him. I still get a bit paranoid, but I get paranoid with everybody: it’s not bad, but it’s bad enough to make me question who gives a crap about me. S has shown me time and time again that he does, in fact, value my advice; he doesn’t just SAY that my advice is good but he takes it and thanks me for it. For some reason, that was a novelty for me. I’m not used to it.

Yeah, I matter to a lot of people, even if in the smallest way. My new friend in French values me because I spoke to her when she first started. The person I met at the LGBTQ+ club cared about me because I talked with her about loads of things when I could have spoken to my regular friendship group. A girl outside my form looked at me differently because my conversation was intelligent, and I didn’t just stare at the ground as I’m prone to do.

Of course, my friends think I’m reasonably okay. Alright, they think I’m nice and all that but shhh, I’m trying to be modest! They are all wonderful, and I think I’m crashing my way into believing that I’m not just a spare part to them.

Birch let me realise that it’s not just my close friends that care. It’s other people, in the littlest of ways; I’ll take all that I can get. I’ll be all that I can to as many people as I can, even if that’s just a fleeting glance or the thought that I, of all people, could help them.

Do you think YOU matter to a lot of people? If not, then try listing all the people that care about you, in ANY capacity. You’ll be surprised, because sometimes, caring’s not just about trusting implicitly. It can simply be a smile to someone who thinks that they don’t deserve one.

Screw being a spare part. I can be a whole fucking machine if I want to.

From Elm 🙂

Something I Want to Tell You

I swear, as of late, my blog’s become a place for terrifyingly deep posts, or for announcing shit that’s been happening with no prior warning. Of course, as you can tell by the VERY ambiguous title, it’s the latter.

Long story short, I have a boyfriend. I never said I’d ease you into the “revelation”!

So. A lot’s been happening over the last… Three months. Pretty much all of it, I couldn’t talk about on my blog because:
The people in question read it
Some of them didn’t know and I couldn’t deal with them knowing just then
I felt so horrific, emotion-wise, that even if I could write about it I wouldn’t know how

Even now, I can’t be entirely honest. Stuff is still happening, which is making me feel god-awful but there’s nothing I can do. This will be a short post, well, to announce this very mysterious thing that you’re not curious about.

Back to the point of this: Elm has a boyfriend. I think I’ve done two of these announcement posts before? This one’s a little different.

Some of you know, but to most of you, this will be a massive surprise. There’s a good reason as to why I haven’t been talking about the specifics of my love life, but if you read some of my more recent posts, you might be able to pick up on some barely-there references. I mean, even I can’t pick them up much, but I’ve found out that people can read me better than I can.

Err soooo, the boyfriend… How do I explain this without totally confusing myself and you?

Last summer, so back in the days when I was naive Elm, I wrote about a guy called S. It’s annoying because I can’t think of a tree name for him and at the time, I was so panicked that I picked a LETTER. UGH. You can find the post here and I suggest you do, to get some context.

As you read, he was my first kiss. Then, I fucked it all up by bailing on him in the October half term of that year, and then we didn’t really speak for 3 months. I learned a huge lesson then, and that was that I was VERY much capable of getting scared and throwing something great away. After January, we sort of spoke; it wasn’t that I was upset with him or he was with me, but so much other stuff was happening.

Here’s where it gets blurry, into the section that I can’t talk about much. If I didn’t WANT to tell you, I wouldn’t have mentioned that I can’t talk about it, but I’m dealing with not just my emotions here. After the breakup with Rapunzel, complicated shit started happening. Again, because of privacy and because I find it kind of horrible to dwell on it, I can’t talk about it so much. All I’ll say is a screwed up “love triangle” occurred and I felt so guilty that at times I couldn’t think.

The “official” relationship started about a week and a half ago. It’s actually been going on for a while, but I’ve been much too scared to admit that I wanted a relationship until now. You know me – I question my feelings all the time, and get afraid that I’ll screw things up. What happened in terms of it would be something I’d be describing if I COULD, and maybe one day I will.

He makes me very happy. We’ve known each other for, technically, 6 years and though he wasn’t around for some of the massive things in my life, he saw me before AND after the changes in my personality and still put up with me. Even when I was a dick to him (he said I wasn’t but shhh), he stuck by me. It WILL seem out of the blue, but I needed to tell you because I trust you all.

It’s funny, because he understands me so much. Sometimes I don’t even need to finish my sentence, because he knows what I mean anyway. The relationship’s long-distance, but I’m okay with that; we’re not the type of people to suddenly lose interest because I trust him enough for him or I NOT to do something stupid. I’m able to laugh around him and be serious and yes, he gets frustrated with me sometimes but so do I.

This is the thing. I’ve been wanting to tell you guys for so long, to update you on EVERYTHING but I still can’t. I needed to tell a few people first, because this is a blog that goes out to the Internet and though I wanted you to be the first to know, it didn’t turn out that way.

Relationships won’t ever be 100 percent perfect. I’ll have my crying moments, my feeling shit moments, but I’ll also have times where I feel so incredibly happy. My sister asked me if I actually liked the people I had relationships with, which is the first time I’ve ever been properly offended in a while. Because though it could be argued that I have had a fair few “relationships”, they’ve all got me to where I am right now. That right now isn’t perfect, but it’s here and I’m willing to make it shitloads better.

All in all, I’m happy. I’m in a relationship and I’m happy because of that; I don’t hate myself for it or think I’m rushing, because it took me a long time to realise I wanted one and to finally put a part of my happiness first.

Thank you for ALWAYS sticking by me through everything that’s happened. In having this blog, I’ve got more confident as my love life’s expanded and gone a little haywire at times. This post may seem a bit bland, laying out the facts with little emotion, but I don’t know how else to put it.

If you do want the full story of what’s been happening, you can email me or click on my contact page. I’ll tell you, if you’re willing to read long paragraphs about my life.

I wish I could post everything, but sometimes I can’t. Balancing who reads this blog from real life and me letting out my emotions can sometimes be very difficult, and now’s one of those times.

I want you to remember something. Always, no matter what, look at things from someone else’s perspective. Don’t jump to conclusions, or treat someone as the villain outright, because the likelihood is that you don’t know the full story. You can’t know how a person thinks, and you can’t get inside their brain to feel all their emotions – so, before you tell yourself they’ve done something, think about how they feel about it.

I’m ready to deal with everything, and I know you’ll see me through it.

From Elm 🙂

Some Friends Don’t Fade

One thing that you learn about me, quickly, is that I get scared of change. For example, if I realise I’m not as close to a friend as I once was, I get incredibly upset and overthink, wondering what I did wrong and how I can fix it. Realising that it just happens and that it’s okay is a whole other story, one I’m sure I could talk about for years.

Today, I had an experience that made me remember what friends I had – and not just that, but I remembered the friends that have stayed with me. The friends who, no matter how much time you spend apart, will always come back and will always make you feel valued.

I’ve known this girl – I won’t give her a name yet – for 6 years. Like with many of my friendships with blind people, I met her at “blind camp”. A year later, we were in Portugal together to do something which I can’t explain because anonymity. Ever since then, we’ve seen each other at some summer camps, and our parents are friends. The last time we saw each other, and spoke in-depth about anything, was last summer at ANOTHER blind camp. She’s lovely and hilarious.

A bit of background information: my friend S (I would come up with another name for him, but I used this one at the beginning and it stuck) goes to a school. I won’t say which one, but it’s far away from where he lives. My other friend also goes to this school (S has been going there since a week ago) and today, she took his phone and he then rang me.

There ensued a really long conversation, which involved her hiding in the bathroom from S, freaking out about not being able to get ready because they were going out with some friends, and so much laughter from me and her that I eventually felt sick. Talking to her was easy, and made my entire day. We promised to talk again, us saying that we hadn’t spoken in ages and that that NEEDED to change.

That conversation showed me that she’s a good friend. Despite the fact that we don’t talk much, in our chat we STILL spoke about deep things on occasion between the laughter. She and I have trusted each other with a lot of things. I admit, I’ve got jealous of her a couple of times because she sings seriously amazingly, but at the end of the day we’ve known each other for so long and I have a lot of memories with her.

It astounds me that I haven’t caught up with her sooner. Friends like that can’t be neglected, but occasionally I forget? That sounds awful, but I often get swept up in life and don’t remember to catch up with the people who have always been there. Even so, for all of that, they still don’t leave. They’re still there when I want to talk, and it’s with the same ease as before.

Knowing that there will be people that have my back is comforting. I’m not just talking about the people who have known me for a long time in school: they mean just as much of course, but it’s refreshing to take stock of the friends like her, like Robin and Poppy and Rose, that have stuck by me for such a long time.

I know that if she read this, or if any of the people I mentioned in the above paragraph did, they’d laugh until they sobbed or not understand that when I feel grateful for my friends, I mean it. I don’t thank people enough, and I won’t start going “THANK YOU!” to all of my close friends, but I think they know that I would say it.

Sometimes, I feel lonely, even when I’m surrounded by people. That choking feeling, when you ask yourself who would really give a shit if you just faded into. the background. However, now, I know that some people do care.

Some people won’t LET you fade away, because they’re always there. They may not call you daily, even text you for months, but that’s okay: when you need them, they’re there to make you laugh or to just catch up on life.

Friendships are a funny thing for me at the moment; I’m not as secure in how I feel about everyone as people might think. I will always respect my friends, but who I want to hang out with is changing, and who I AM is changing. Who I want to be, who people see me as and how I want to interact with people are also changing.

Through those changes, at least I have those constant friends.

From Elm 🙂