Oh, Love…

I loved you once, in the autumn when you took the form of a solid bar of gold, then when you dulled to a wrong bronze in the winter; when you crumbled to missed chances in the spring and when you were new as a winged possibility in the summer. They say that spring is the time of new beginnings, but you were the time of new endings then, collapsing in on yourself as I bloomed, and then wilted.

Missing you is something I do frequently, when I compare you to the eighth of love I feel now, the diminished thought of a memory. I miss your beauty, the way my heart would skip and jolt, happiness lancing through my veins one second and then the presence of you, calming. “I love you,” you said, too many times, but was that you, Love? Perhaps you only descended once, twice, in the wreck of infatuation and the splinters of half-love that could not quite coalesce into you.

I feel sorry for you, for all the ways you could have been formed, but where you were never quite able to be seen. In a way I resent you for it, all of the running up of hills only to fall back, never cresting the peak. Where were you then, at my failings – though how can I blame you? You are love, nothing more. You filled me with temporary whimsicality, your antibodies still present to prevent the intrusion of your next attack, but never quite working. Should I thank you, I wonder?

You were secret, once, stolen away in droplets of tears, never said nor heard. You were a thread of happiness, tangled, until I could not distinguish you from the echo of a song you left. Where have you gone? Because you flew away, another golden feather clutched in your hands.

Your emotion is something I could never forget. In the quiet nights, the shining days, tampered down with the rationality of paranoia and swellings of affection for friends, family and strangers on the street. Still, you consumed me, opening rivers of thought I never knew I had.

I still love you, I suppose, but I ask myself which version? The version of you that held me with quiet certainty, or that was so soft and new I could barely breathe, or perhaps the you that glowed with your own familiar light until it moved, beaming to another star. Maybe all of you is still there, curled in my heart, a dormant dragon waiting to rise. Would I still love you, then, in the dulled sense I do now, or would the flames and silver scales heal the cracks? You neither know, nor care – do you, Love? You are just a person, or an idea, or a blend of both rolled into spun silk, ripped.

When you come back, don’t break my heart as you did before. Don’t be warped, twisted, turning my heart into a receptor for expectant pain; on my toes until the catch comes, just waiting to be proved wrong and for you to vanish into shadows. Don’t make false promises, that you’ll always be there; never say you can hold me forever. Don’t do the things that burn me, and I’m begging you, don’t show me you exist until I’m sure I have the strength to match you.

I can’t do it otherwise.

Please?

From Elm 🙂

A Letter to 14-Year-Old Me

Dear 14-year-old Elm,
I spoke about how I was two years ago today, and it made me think about you. Or me. Or the me that was you, I suppose; I’m not a separate person but I’ve gone through so many changes that I don’t consider the qualities that you have to be all the ones that I have, and I don’t think we have the same outlook on life.

If I could warn you of all the things that are going to happen, and if I could go back and change them, I wouldn’t. If you knew how I was now, how sad I was but also the amount of happy shit that’s gone on, I don’t think you’d understand and you wouldn’t believe it, for sure. Then again, maybe I’m not giving you enough credit, but the character development I had to go through to become the me I am now, you haven’t had yet. Identity’s a weird thing, because it’s almost like I’m separating myself from you, but where does the line blur? We are the same, but I’m fundamentally different from you in how I think.

I won’t think about that, because I want to explain something that I wish you’d known. I don’t know when I started to respect myself, but it certainly wasn’t 2 years ago: yes, you’re a good person, but you have also and will also be awful. Back when you didn’t know who you were, you were just becoming the person I am, I I guess, but before that was two years ago and that was just shy of the turning point.

In December 2014, I was in love. You are, and you think that he is amazing, and back then he was. But tell me this: when he ignores you for days, when he tells you that his mental health is so bad that he can’t talk – do you deserve that? You think you do, but you don’t, and it makes me so sad that you – I – couldn’t see that. Ash, though you won’t know him as that for at least four months, isn’t your world and you are not his.

It’s so hard to realise that he’s not the centre of everything. It feels like he is and I get that; I won’t deny that at this time, you need him. He brought you one of the best friendships you’ve ever had, but he brought and is bringing you pain, and feelings of panic and paranoia. That’s not healthy, because you aren’t just alive when he messages you, and your heart shouldn’t just beat for him. He is human, and has awful parts to his personality; you may know that but you don’t know that enough.

You’ll blame yourself for so long after. If you knew that he would break friends with you in a horrible way, maybe you’d take stock of things more, prepare yourself for eventual heartbreak. It’s lucky you didn’t, though, because it’ll make you realise a terrible flaw in your personality: you expose people’s privacy, and it’s not cured by a pledge in the dark.

I think that now is one of the periods that he’s ignoring you, and you let it get to you. No, I don’t blame you, but you should realise there’s life outside him. You once compared him to a part in your machine that was so specific that you couldn’t replace it with any old part, but sometimes, you can live without a part. You find new parts that works better, more fluidly, helping you run rather than sapping away all your energy. Even now, I don’t blame him, because I can’t get swallowed up by anger. It’s been 2 years, after all, but remember that you have the right to be angry.

When I look on it, you were consumed by him. You had your friends, and they were and still are brilliant people, but you were always worried about Ash. Maybe the future has distorted the past, but I clearly remember cold days where you’d feel more freezing than the temperature saw fit. It’s not that you couldn’t have an independent thought, because you were happy – remember in lessons? But even then, your mind was a web of Ash and confusion and worry.

You’ll make mistakes, and you have. If I told you you’d kiss S that summer, you’d sob with laughter; if I told you the first time you kissed a girl was over a year ahead, you’d question me but not realise that it was a possibility. It is, and she’s a great person; none of the people you will ever have feelings for are disgusting people. It’s good that you don’t know the future, because though it brought me so much self-hatred, I needed to go through it so that I could grow up.

I need you to know that Ash’s secret is not an excuse for why he’s ignoring you. These late night conversations will be in your mind, that time you were on the phone in the cold with him which must have been just a month ago. All of that: the lovely words, the trust, the heart-stopping feelings you have for him – doesn’t make it okay for him to treat you like that. At that point, nothing is your fault, but if I told you that you wouldn’t listen. We are similar, after all.

I’m you, but I’m a you that’s had her heart broken three times, whereas you’re a you that doesn’t know how that feels. Getting rejected 8 months ago was nothing compared to what will happen, but whenever you’re going through pain, remember this:

You’re fucking beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you you aren’t. Your body is your own, and don’t do something just because you think it’s right for them, and not for you. Hold your friends close, and look to the future with hope; nothing’s as dark as you think because there will always be hope. Ash isn’t the end, your heart isn’t unbreakable, and all of the happy memories will get you through.

I love you, in a way, because you ARE thoughtful despite your apparent carelessness. You know what qualities you have, why people like you, so grip onto that and don’t let go. I may not respect some of the things you did, like telling people about your and Ash’s messages, but I understand.

You’ll start a blog, and love people and cry, but you’ll also laugh. You’ll find some beautiful friendships, lose them, and find them again. You already have them, and they will be there for you.

You aren’t alone and you aren’t a terrible person. I’m not, either. The one thing that’s definitively the same about you and I is that we will always help people when they need it. I’m proud of you for that.

Love from Elm 🙂

Dear Ash

Dear Ash,

You won’t remember, but when we were 14, I wrote on my stupid old blog about my ‘abandonment issues’ – which weren’t serious, though you helped me to realise that they mattered. Even if I’m very glad that you called me out on my bullshit, which caused me to write that excuse for a post, part of me wishes I’d never done it.

You see, if I’d have been honest with you from the start, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have tried so desperately to be friends, constantly replying to messages and getting paranoid even before the days where you called me a close friend, letting you trust me, trusting you in return: because if little 14-year-old me had held back, I would never have fallen in love with you. Is that a good thing? I don’t think so.

Not that I realised I was necessarily lying. In the early days, it was just a way to let myself realise that people didn’t all think I was stupid, that you – someone who was kind, out of my social circle – respected me. And so it continued, like the time I somehow got your number by lying. Do you have any idea how awful I felt about myself? No. You don’t.

2 years on, and I’ve figured out that I don’t care any more. You no longer have the power to make my mind spin in a circle with panic, to cause me to question what kind of person I am. It’s not you that does that any more; rather, it’s everything that happened after you. You were the root cause, the person who made me change and see that I was acting terribly.

I’ll be honest with you, despite the fact that you’ll never read this. It’s time to truly admit to myself that this shit wasn’t my fault, but that I don’t blame you either. So, here we go; I’ll delve into a year of hurt and love and all that shit.

I wanted to be to you what you were to me. I think it was as simple as that. I craved the friendship, the happiness I felt when you trusted me: that simple trust, from someone I had a deep-rooted respect for, was so foreign. Before I start howling at myself, I’ll explain what you did.

Yes, you had things going on at the time, with your girlfriend, your mental health, and people bullying you. But it didn’t give you the right to completely blank my existence, for a month, and then come back and tell me that I’ve been such a good friend to you. I KNEW I had. “No!” my mind screams, “He needed space, and you can’t blame him; you did all he asked and that was to be there for him.” Yeah, that’s true; I never doubted that you felt terrible for your actions because I know you did. It ate at you, ripping away at who you were.

That argument. God, it was stupid; if we’d both talked it out, it could have been resolved. I still blame myself in the corner of my mind, because I never gave you privacy. Here we go with the honesty thing again: I told my friends what we talked about because I fancied the shit out of you. I was soaring on the feeling of love, happiness, and excitement at something new.

The point is, I never thought straight. I’m making excuses, I know, and it’s pointless anyway because it’s all in the past. Every conversation we had, I stored in my head, and if that’s not possessive and weird I don’t know WHAT is.

Remember when Holly made me upset when she talked about suicide and we called from your friends to come and talk to me, help me? I still feel cold when I think how… Awkward that was. I needed you at the time, yet you said for me to not do that again because you weren’t good with sudden real life things. I understood that, still do, but it hurt like the chill of regret.

So many things hurt, actually; it’s all coming back now. Your lovely words, when you said I’d always been there for you when you apologised after our massive argument. I had, but I wish it had only been as friends because THEN, I could have been honest and not let my feelings get in the way. Those arguments, when I was so awful to your ex-girlfriend and you said it had made things worse, but you didn’t blame me. Thank you.

I’m doing it again, see? Exposing your privacy. Telling the internet what you said, what you did, still trying to make myself feel better. Who cares if you’ll never read it? It’s still not fair, and it’s just drudging up old memories and pain.

Honestly, it makes me cringe how I acted before, after we stopped talking utterly in June last year. No goodbye, no anything, only scraps of “Why should I talk to her?” from Holly, and the pain in my mind from countless hours of telling myself I had fucked everything up. I’m presuming that you had so much going on at the time that I was the last thing on your mind, which I respect.

You had no idea how much a simple thing affected me. How, every time I showed it to my friends, I felt sick with myself and pathetic that someone could rule my thoughts. It was toxic, poisonous, crawling underneath my skin through the scratches I left.

Now, when I look back, I wish you hadn’t consumed so much of my thoughts and my time. It’s pathetic really, though both my friends and me tell me it’s not: you were a large part of my life, and so it was only natural – right? For a long time after all of it, your name made me flinch and hate myself just that little bit more. It’s overdramatic I know, but I think only I understood the mind-numbing pain I experienced when you never replied to me. Burning, sinking with all the certainty that you were no longer my friend.

I felt needy, clingy, all the things you described me to be before. I shut everything out sometimes, not letting myself feel the pure hatred I felt for myself, and when I heard your name it was like a slap to the face as my heart split open. All the fights I heard about, the stuff you did at parties, and the ever-present knowledge that you smoked weed: something I thought that you would never do, for reasons nobody but a few people understand. Not that it matters; you most likely think I’ve told everyone, when that’s the furthest from the truth.

I’m not sorry, which surprises me. I feel horribly guilty for how I acted, but I was in love and it wasn’t my fault. You were the first person that truly inspired me to want to help people, support people, which made me into who I am today. People won’t get why I still have to thank you, why I still would care if you got hurt.

Through you, I became friends with the person who hated you, who is now one of my closest friends. That’s probably ironic, so maybe that’s why I’m laughing? My friends at the time are closer to me now, and I’ve made so many new ones too.

We’re talking again, and you act as if you care. THOUGH I’m terrified that I will, I’m trying not to fall into the same trap of trusting you, getting drawn in. I’m not stupid enough this time. So many things have changed about me, like you wouldn’t believe, but I don’t want you to know. My heart doesn’t skip when I see your name and I don’t WAIT for you to reply, because if you don’t, that’s fine.

It makes it easier that you aren’t coming back to our school next year. I don’t have to hear your voice, or your name in class, and the only contact I’ll have with you is the Internet – oh shit, that’s how it was in our friendship. That’s messed up and isn’t how things should be; I’ve learnt that now.

I don’t love you, and haven’t for over a year. It makes me happy to know that, because I can admit that moving on was because of my strength of character. In some corner of my mind, I suppose I hate you, but it’s a muted roar and is nothing important. It’s impractical and immature, far overshadowed by the things that happened after.

All in all? You aren’t why I do things any more. You don’t keep me sane, happy; I’m not the great friend to you I once was, and you don’t trust me on a whole different level. Good.

If I’d have been more honest, less willing to share what we spoke about, and if I didn’t care so much – I wouldn’t have been so hurt, and maybe things for both of us would have ended up differently. But I’m glad they didn’t, as because of you, I grew up, realised how horrible I could be (yes, I’m quoting you) and learned to live with childish guilt.

Have a nice life in college. Maybe one day, we’ll be friends, and we’ll see sides to each other that will remind us of days gone by. Maybe we’ll trust each other, talk about who we’ve fallen in love with, and ask each other how we’ve REALLY been. Until then, I’m very much done with you. For a while, I’ve been STRONG enough to be done with you.

I’m not angry. I’m not sad, not longing for the past, and not crying over how you made me feel. I’m living my life, and if you ever find out about this blog or that I’ve written this, you’ll laugh so hard that you’ll be sick because I’m being too dramatic and sentimental. I don’t care.

From Elm 🙂

I Cried At My GCSE Results

I’m trying to convince myself that this isn’t bragging. People on Twitter have said that it isn’t, I’ve more or less told myself it isn’t – and really, I’m going to let myself be proud of myself.

In case you didn’t know, today was Results Day. Last night, I did manage to sleep – though not much – and so when I woke up at 7 this morning, I spent about half an hour getting myself out of bed.

Having a shower really, really helped. It let me feel like I had my shit together, and who cares if I took ages getting ready? I kept on freezing up, having to take deep breaths, because I told myself I was going to do terribly. Willow – one of my best friends ever – rang me up and we yelled “Good luck!” at each other, but I eventually had to go and eat. Not that I COULD eat much, on account of the fact that I felt like throwing up.

I can’t really remember the car journey down. It took us 45 minutes to get there, with me blasting loud music from the radio with the car roof down. I called Fibit about 15 minutes before we got there, texting various bloggers and real life friends; all of it calmed me down.

I stared out of the car window, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. It hit me then just how fucked I thought I was – I considered how bad it would be if I failed a subject, and my vision went blurry as I could barely breathe. Mum’s “Oooooh this is a bit nervewracking, isn’t it?!” didn’t exactly help, but the world faded into the background as we reached the school.

Cars were parked inside and outside the school, people from my year walking in and chatting to each other. As I got out of the car and the fresh air hit me, I remember thinking, “GOD this is it, arghh!!!” We walked into the reception, and I could hear people I vaguely knew talking, but no one approached me there.

We got about four steps into the hall before a teacher said hey, and “The section for your surname’s over there.” I heard someone shout, “FUCK ME, that’s terrifying!” which summed up my mood perfectly. Another three steps, and a teacher called out, “Elm! We’ll give you your results now so that you don’t have to wait in the queue.” (Why they did that, I don’t know, but it saved me shitloads of time).

I got given the piece of paper – folded, with lots of writing on it I believe, but I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember the noise of the hall, only the feel of the paper in my fingers. My hands shook so hard that I could barely hold it, so I smashed it against my chest, eyes wide. I stumbled out of the hall, my mum guiding me.

It had happened too fast for me to register it, or to comprehend that i was holding my results. She took the paper from me, I collapsed in a chair, and she started reading. First of all, she got confused and didn’t understand the numbers, or why it said ⠦⠠⠓⠊⠌⠕⠗⠽ B” when that was the name of the course, not the grade.

Well, here are my results. I feel almost guilty for posting them, because it makes it feel like I’m showing off? As she read them out, my hands covered my face and I let out involuntary sobbing noises, staring into space and hearing the familiar voice of one of my classmates nearby.

I’ll tell you my reaction after the result.

Maths: A (I THOUGHT I’d FAIL OHMYGOD! I had nightmares about it!)
Music: A (YES I passed music thank fuck; I was so worried about that one)
Sociology: A (Wish I’d got an A star – OH SHUT UP an A is amazing!)
English Language: A (It was a bitch of a paper I GOT AN A YES!)
English Literature: A* (incoherent sounds of screaming, OMG my teacher will be so happy)
RE: A* (I tried really hard on this one, so I’m proud)
French: A* (Je peux étudier le Français l’année prochaine!!!!)
Biology: A* (HAH, bloody drunk rats take ⠞ that I passed Biology!)
History: A* (I cried at this one, Birch said I could get an A* and he was right and HOLY SHIT. i almost feel like messaging him, just to tell him)
Physics: A* (Is this some sort of joke?! How did this happen, I’m SHIT at Physics!)
Chemistry: A* (… … WHATTHELITERALFUCK!!!!!! On finding out that one, I burst out laughing, then cried a bit, and was basically speechless. My chemistry paper went the worst out of all of them and I got a bloody A* how!)

7 A*s, 4 As. I’m in complete, complete shock; I thought I’d do so badly. I was expecting a B in Maths and Music, a fucking C in Chemistry, and ALL my predictions were wrong.

Pine turned up just as I was wiping tears from my eyes, we screamed and hugged each other and I cried a little more. She got an A in Music and a B in English and I’m so incredibly proud of her, because she deserves it. She thought she’d fail English, but she proved everyone wrong.

I saw Red, too, and hung out with him for a lot of the time until we left. My Physics teacher gave me a massive hug as we shrieked over my result, and she congratulated Red too. He got an insanely high mark in drama which is so great.

Other people I saw were Willow, and we hugged for so long whilst shouting. Odd and I went to collect their results. They worked so hard and I’m very happy for them and they got a B in English which is awesome!

Oh, and… Apparently I had one of the best results in the school? Obviously not THE best, because someone (cough Wren cough) got a ridiculous amount of A*s, but it was good enough to be interviewed by the local radio station along with two other people.

AS IN I GOT INTERVIEWED BY THE RADIO. They asked me about my disability, if it affected my learning, and how I felt about my results. Because I had been crying a tiny bit, I was a tad emotional and said I expected to have done so much worse – not to get any A*s at all, for one thing. The most hilarious part is that some of my friends’ parents HEARD ME on the radio, so I got about three messages saying “Congrats on your results!”

Crap, I actually got my GCSE results and I did WELL. Like what? I worried so, so much, and panicked, but I did WELL. I rang up Rose (who got 9 A*’s because she’s amazingly intelligent) and Poppy, two of my best friends who I’ve known since I was a baby, and we just screamed “Well done!” at each other.

Sav and Ta both did really great and I’m sending them all the hugs because I’m so proud.


I found out what Ash got as well. It might not have been the best, but he passed everything he wantow to pass. I’m oddly proud of him, and we appear to be talking again? He congratulated me on my marks, said it was great etc. It was weird.

For anyone who got results – well done. Let yourself celebrate – I’m going out to dinner with my mum and sister – because you deserve to give yourself a treat. You’ve tried your best and done so well. Remember that.

I need to thank you guys for, well, helping me. Throughout the last year, you’ve supported me: when I cried over the fact that I’d done no revision (I THOUGHT) for my mocks, you convinced me that it was okay, that I still had time and that I was going to do well. You told me, time and time again, that I COULD do this. You increased my confidence, which made me go into the exams with a positive attitude. Always, you believed in me, and now I’m getting choked up because I’m remembering what you’ve all done for me.

Thank you. They may say that positivity has to come from within, that it was all up to me, but I disagree. Blogging has made me realise I’m not all shit, that posting my results and being proud of it isn’t arrogant.

I’m astounded at my results. I just… It’s ME. How did I get that, especially when I was sure I’d not do that well – ever!

I’m really, really happy. All of my friends have something to be pleased about and they did so great.

No matter what result you got, it’s over. The waiting’s over, the fear, the uncertainty. Well done, guys.

From Elm 🙂

Today’s The Day!

Not going to lie, I’m very mildly terrified, because today is Prom. As in TODAY. WHAT. THE HELL.

It feels like I’ve been preparing for this for so long, and I’m worried it won’t live up to expectations. To be honest, I think I’ll just wing it – because I’m nervous, I think I’ll run through the plan.

I’m going to get my makeup, hair and eyebrows done at 2. HELP!!! I don’t know what I’m doing. On Monday, I got my dress properly adjusted so that it ACTUALLY fits, which made me feel great. Trust me: I never get fully made up, so this will be a weird first for me.

Red and I agreed to go with each other, as friends, over a year ago. That’s still going on, so I’m going to his house at about 5:30. After that, and after his mum and mine take about a billion pictures, we’re going to Pine’s house (my oldest friend from secondary school) for a sort of pre-prom.

Here’s where it gets complicated. Originally, I was going to go to my friend Holly’s. My entire friendship group’s going there, but I decided to go to Pine’s because Red and I both just wanted to. Pine’s always been there, and I am SO grateful to her for everything she’s done. I feel unbelievably guilty for just abandoning my group, and I love them so much; I don’t want them to think that I hate them because that’s as far from the truth as you can get.

I’m getting even more nervous now, but a friend of mine – S – said I’d be totally fine so I’ll TRY and believe them. Breathe, Elm, breathe!

After the Prom, I’ve roped myself into going to an afterparty. WHATTTTTT!!! I was going to go to Holly’s, but I decided not to because when will I ever get the chance to go to a proper party again? It’s undoubtable that there will be drugs and insane amounts of drinking, but I’m okay with that.

There’s just one minor, tiny, TOTALLY INSIGNIFICANT issue. It’s hosted by Ash and one of his friends. The Ash. The fuck am I doing? He said it was totally fine that I could come, but still, I’m SO incredibly scared because:
1. It’s Ash.
2. I hate drugs.
3. I’m scared Pine will abandon me (I doubt she will).
4. It’s my first REAL party after Ivy’s birthday one.

When it comes to things like this, I’m a total disaster. Today, though, I’m just going to LIVE my life and to hell with the consequences. It’s rare that I let myself go, let all my inhibitions fly away, because I’m scared of losing control.

If I “get with” someone, that’s okay. Now’s a good enough time to do it, because it’s Prom and I’ll actually feel confident. Who knows what’ll happen? All I know is that tomorrow, there will be a long post, detailing exactly what went on the night before.

Elm, at a party? HAHAHAA! Elm, kissing random people and not feeling miserable afterwards? Woah, holy shit! I’m telling myself it’s not wrong to do that, because I won’t be playing with people’s emotions and it’s fine. I can do this.

Although I’m nervous that my dress will look terrible, my makeup will go wrong or my hair will look like a train wreck, I’m just going to enjoy myself. Maybe it won’t live up to how I wanted, but I’m going to get as much out of this day as I possibly can. Why not? I’ll be with my friends, and with people I can get to know; I’ll be free to actually show my year what kind of a person I am.

I want them to see me, and I want myself to truly appreciate who I am. This is long overdue, and now’s the time to do what Birch always said: live.

From Elm 🙂

Nearly There

I have 2 exams left.

2.

Remember when I had 23, and when it was 19 days away and I was panicking? Yeah, me too.

I’ll save all the “I’m SO RELIEVED”, and “YAAAAYYYY FREEDOM!” posts until after they’re done. Maybe posting this will make the anticipation build and ultimately make me more nervous, but I’m a total rebel and don’t play by any rules okay that’s a complete lie.

Unfortunately, my chemistry exam – the second one out of two – today went really badly. I’m not even just saying that; I feel sick whenever I think about it because I could barely answer the questions (and I felt confident at the beginning, as well). People found it easier, which makes me feel terrified for my chances. WHOOPS. Ah well.

I’m honestly quite upset about that. It was the first exam where my horror at not understanding something DIRECTLY affected how I approached the paper. With the first maths paper, it was alright because I tried to be logical. In chemistry, it was panic panic panic and I felt that awful fog descending where I wanted to scream and I thought that I was a total failure. It was a little bit of a shock, as it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so incredibly negative about an exam. For the others, I haven’t let myself feel terrible when I KNEW I’d got something wrong, partly down to the fact that I realised that if I broke then, I wouldn’t be able to stop but also because I wanted – and still do – to stay as positive as possible.

That’s mostly dissipated, but there’s still a lingering horror that I’ve majorly screwed myself over. Though I can’t do anything about it now, it doesn’t stop me from worrying. Also, it doesn’t help when I feel like my worries are insignificant because I don’t need that at the moment.

The only two I have left are physics. Like Chemistry, I’m dreading them – the chemistry has knocked my confidence a LOT, but I should be alright? Tomorrow is going to be intense revision like you’ve never (and I’ve never) seen, and I’m going to shut myself away when I’m not in school doing revision sessions. So basically hermit Elm to the not rescue because she won’t be talking to anyone.

Yeah, physics is scaring me. There’s a lot I don’t understand, and I want to beat my head against the wall several times, but I’m going to give myself a break for tonight. Right now, it’s about 9:30 so I can’t do anything anyway without feeling panicky and the information floating through my brain. Y’know moments, and magnetic fields and stars – AHHH I CAN’T!!!!

God, I can’t wait until it’s all over. The only thing that’s getting me through it is the thought that in two days, I’ll be free.

It’s strange; I’ve been talking to Ash quite a bit over the last, well, three days? ALSO before you scream at me, if you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about and you wonder why the fuck I’m messaging ASH, read

It’s not the End, and I’m Glad

Let’s grab your attention and shock the shit out of you and myself: today, Ash and I spoke for the first time in a little over a year. To find out who he is, visit this page. Here’s how it happened.

I spent the day with Red and Ivy – two of my best friends who are fantastic. We walked around the town, laughed at stupid things (I cried because I laughed so hard), took pictures of birds and sat on the grass. GODDD it was amazing and I felt so happy; I needed a distraction from the stuff that’s been going on recently. Also, I can never think of mirror selfies the same way again, so thanks for that 😛

It was over lunch that I broached the subject of Ash, and how I’d been thinking of messaging him over the past few weeks. It’s true: recently, I’ve just been wanting to do it, to see how it would go; to prove to myself I COULD. The two of them didn’t judge me at all – in fact they were bloody supportive. After we walked around for a bit, we went and sat on the grass, chatted and threw grass at each other, and that was when I messaged him.

I’d talked about it with them, got a little scared, but then just messaged him saying hi – that was all. It worked, really; I couldn’t say anything else. It felt freeing, and like I could really do this. How do I express this?

I then wouldn’t think about it – I told myself, “Don’t obsess. You did that last time, and it’s okay – he’ll reply when he replies.” Ivy reminded me to check now and again, but it didn’t turn into a constant worry; I’m proud of myself for that. After I’d sent it, I felt really sick but that was the only time when I properly freaked. Luckily, they were there to help me, and we turned it into a symbolic thing without making it overly serious.

He DID reply, and I’m so happy that when I saw, I only got the slightest twinge of “WHATTHEFUCK is going on???” I was relatively calm, which is surprising; it kind of shows me that I’m way more okay with what happened than I thought. YESSS.

God, it feels so surreal. You know when you just experience things and you ask yourself, “Is this ACTUALLY HAPPENING?!”

I think what propelled me to do this was that a few days ago, Aspen (my ex-boyfriend who I really respect) messaged me which made me unbelievably happy; he and I have conversations from time to time but we hadn’t spoken in two months before he’d messaged me. That made me feel like the past was in reach, and that it was okay to do this; I’ve been feeling like I NEED to get closure for things. Aspen was the first step, and I think now WAS the right time to message Ash

Our conversation is very formal – asking how each other is, how exams are going. But it’s something. My heart’s filling with so much happiness right now, because I took that first step. It may seem like I’m dragging up the past when I shouldn’t, but it actually doesn’t feel like that. I’m no longer that girl who would wait for his messages and wonder, “Does he hate me; what have I done wrong; am I awful?” I’ve grown.

Sorry, I’m feeling so emotional at the moment and I’m not. sure why. Just the fact that I’ve opened the door to something that used to cause me so much pain, and when I opened it I was FINE, makes me feel so happy for things to come. I doubt that Ash will attach any significance to my messages, because we aren’t exactly having a heart-to-heart, but it’s important to ME.

It’s not the end of Ash and I. There’s still more to the story, still things unsaid, but that’s okay. You don’t always have to tie up all the loose strings – well, in our case, pick up the thoughts scattered for miles.

I won’t make this in to a massive deal. I’m posting this here because I want to – need to. My blog started with Ash, and throughout it, I’ve gone through stages of loving him and hating him. My emotions towards him now are… Neutral. That’s surprising.

Yes, he’s turned into a horrible person. He gets high every day, I’m pretty sure, and has been known to beat people up. That doesn’t stop me wanting to look back on things, and for wanting to show myself. that I can speak to him without screaming. It’s in the past, but I can still talk; I want to show him that we don’t have to be strangers.

Red and Ivy are the only ones that know. When this is published, so will you and I’m happy about that. The majority of you won’t have been here in the midst of everything to do with Ash, but I think you can understand. He was the first person I fell in love with, the person who showed me what being so openly trusted felt like, and the person who smashed my feelings into the ground and kicked them, without realising. Someone like that’s always going to be important. I haven’t told any of my real life friends, but if they read this then they’ll know.

Even if I may get backlash, or questions as to why the hell I’ve done this, you have to understand my reasons. It’s for me, and for everyone who used to cry over someone who never, and could never, love them back.

If you’re thinking of getting back in contact with someone who once meant the world to you, think about it before you do it. Ask yourself, “Will I be okay afterwards? Will I be able to deal with whatever happens?” If your answer is yes, grab it with both hands. You can do this.

It’s not the end. It’s not the end of my past, because it’s in reach. I CAN be strong enough to talk to Ash, in fact, I AM. Today is not the end of our conversations – though I may message him with a simple hi every now and then, that’s not pathetic. It’s just… Okay.

I’m okay. I’m happy. I’m going to take this and learn, and hold the past with no tears in my eyes.

From Elm 🙂

Little Piece of Their Heart

This post was inspired by a wonderful post by a blogger called Sophie, which you can read here. I’m going to write about what she wrote about, but in my own way, I suppose.

When someone tells me something – something personal, or sensitive, I store it away in my heart. I take it and hold it close, not sharing it if I truly care about them because they trusted me. Perhaps I’m not trustworthy, but when something matters, I keep it.

There are some beautiful, brave people in this world who I would have never discovered if they hadn’t told me things. Because of that, I know what trust feels like – to be trusted, and to trust. It’s a funny word, that; laden with so much meaning but thrown away so easily. In itself, it’s always meant a lot to me, because it’s the one thing I can keep and that I can solidly say is something I am. Trusted.

When someone tells you something, to me, it means the world. I know just that little bit more about them, something that adds up to a part of their personality. I ask myself, “How important is this?” Even so, I don’t tell when I promise them I won’t, unless something awful happens regarding it or I hate them so much that keeping that secret, or trust, will hurt me in the long run. That’s a terrible way of doing things, but I know that for the huge things, I’m reliable.

Sophie said that once you understand someone, they have a funny way of making it into your heart. That’s the thing, for me, that really struck home, because she’s incredibly right. Now I think on it, all the things people have told me – little or serious – have helped me to understand them. From then on, I know what shapes their personality. That might sound strange, but by understanding them, they’ve taken a tiny piece of my heart without knowing and imbued it with what they’ve gone through.

Whenever I’m trusted, it means that little bit more to me, which is why I get so incredibly upset when people break my trust – or even when I break other people’s. It feels like a betrayal, because I understand them and they understand me (trust goes both ways, after all).

A specific example? There is something I know about Ash, something that breaks my heart whenever I think about it. Despite hating him for so many things, and having a year of stored up hurt, I still can’t hate him fully, because I understand a little of why he does things. It doesn’t excuse anything at all and is only a root cause for other things, and it seems detrimental for me to think about it, but still: he trusted me. To break that trust, especially now, would be vindictive, even though he wouldn’t give a royal shit. I know I harp on about it a lot, but through him, I knew what it was to understand people and it’s helped me to form the most unlikely friendships. I don’t regret that.

Even when I hate people, I can understand them. Through them sharing something from their life, they open up their heart and if I’m there, I would never abuse that because that would be more than cruel.

I’m not a saint; I’m far from it. I’ve done shitty things to shitty people, and I know it. But at least I have something to hold onto.

I have the capacity to understand people, and it’s one of the only things I truly like about myself. Sometimes I get emotional, especially when my friends – or someone I hadn’t considered a friend – tell me something which means a lot to them, or something that they’ve kept inside.

They might not like me, but at least I can say that I hold – and don’t throw away – a little piece of their heart.

That’s just a thought process for you. I wonder – do you feel the same? When you find something out about someone, does it help you understand them more?

Also, if you haven’t checked out Sophie’s blog already, you really should – I found her today and she’s great!

From Elm 🙂

Let’s, Err, Talk Real

Hii!

So, I made a voice recording. It was kinda… Difficult to talk about? I don’t actually know how I managed it without stuttering or shaking, but yeah. I wish I didn’t sound so needy, but it would mean a lot if you’d take a listen.

You can find it here – and before you faint in shock, yes, it’s on youtube, because I wanted to make it more accessible. Is this a good idea, d’you think?

Remember that if you’re made to feel awful, get yourself away from whoever’s making you feel that way. You are fantastic, and strong, and it’s OKAY to say you’re being treated like crap.

Love from Elm 🙂

It’s Good that I Didn’t Post Yesterday

On my blog twitter, yesterday, I posted about three tweets – you can go and have a look – where I said I wasn’t feeling okay, but not to worry and that I would post about it tomorrow (AKA today).

On my part, that was a sensible decision because I was miserable at the time and anything I wrote would be so negative, not make sense and ultimately cause me more pain than I was in at the time. BEFORE YOU ASK, no, nothing bad has happened. I just thought a lot and those thoughts made me upset.

Last night, I sat for about half an hour, listening to music and just feeling awful because I was thinking about the past. I thought about Ash, Cassia, even fucking PALM and Birch – look at this page to find out who they are – and the songs I listened to, I remember, were ones I had listened to before. By before, I mean about a year and a half ago, where I sat in the dark, shaking (GOD I remember that time so clearly), and I was in love for the first time and just… Why? I don’t get why everything just slammed into my brain yesterday.

I couldn’t really think: the thoughts just washed over me, feelings of sadness and missed opportunity. It brought me back to different times, different feelings and when I thought about different people, and I think that’s what hurt. For once, I didn’t beat myself up about the Ash situation – I just let myself feel every negative emotion I could, to get it out, and to just LET myself feel without hating myself.

I was angry, furious, upset, resigned, hopeless.

But I’m NOT, any more. Not today. Not once I went to sleep and woke up, without that awful cloud over me. I mean it didn’t help that I found out that Ash got into a fight with someone significantly smaller than him, he lost and broke his nose – in this case, he deserved it. I didn’t get the awful stab of pain I sometimes get when I think about him hurting. I just… All those emotions had been felt yesterday. They’ll come back, but at least for today I know that I have NO feelings of loyalty to him any more.

And that’s okay. It’s MORE than okay because slowly, I’m admitting to myself that he was HORRIBLE, perhaps for a reason but perhaps not for one either. It might seem obvious to you, but it will always take time for me.

To sum up, I’m okay. I’m so happy that I’m okay, because sometimes, you just have to let yourself feel emotions. Don’t think you’re awful for it. I might not have been the most sensible in my methods for making myself feel – AKA forcing myself to feel emotional pain – but that’s just ME.

Don’t lock things inside. You need to let things out, and tell yourself that doing that is OKAY.

I hope you’ve had an amazing day, because you deserve it. I want you to learn from the things I’ve done, and you’ve done – that’s why I tell you all these things, why I’m so raw and sometimes negative on here. Life isn’t all roses and sunshine, but neither is it all despair and loneliness.

From Elm 🙂