THREE SIX FIVE

This is it. I made it. 365 posts.

I set out wanting to make space to write everyday, with no pressure on content or length. And I’ve achieved it. Here I am, 365 posts later. Some are short and mundane, others are longer and more vulnerable. There’s gotta be room for both, and I’m glad that there is.

Still, can’t quite believe it. I’m quite stoked with myself, having maintained this habit for a full year, across countries and continents, inebriated and sober, I was committed to this blog and I saw it through.

What started as a response to a lot of pain, has morphed into this thing that has followed me through a year’s worth of joy and disappointment, insights and confrontations.

Anyway, I’m tired (because I had a lot of sex last night and only got 4 hours of sleep) and I’m going to go to bed now.

Until next time. Thank you for reading.

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Three Six Two

I keep thinking about how I’m almost at 365 posts and how bittersweet that is. I’ve posted every single day for a whole year and that feels pretty amazing to me. At the same time, it takes me full circle, back to where this all began, back to me nursing a broken heart in the only way I knew how – through words and tears. I’m not that girl crying in a cafe anymore, but I remember all too well what that was like, those painful memories are still familiar and very much alive when I think of them.

362 days ago I couldn’t have imagined I would be here though – finding love in someone else, having the time of my life with my best friends. So much can change in a year and I didn’t know that, wouldn’t have believed it if someone told me this is how my year would have played out.

Two Six Seven

I told O this morning that I think I’m falling in love with him.

His response? That he hopes I’ll still go to London, and that it won’t be a reason that I’ll stay. I told him that it won’t be, but also that I’m not going to live my life on hold in the meantime.

I’m not going to find reasons that will make me feel better about the way he responded. I think that it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same, and that’s okay – if he’ll eventually feel the same later on. The scary part of him telling me that I still need to go to London regardless is that it seems to suggest that he may never feel the same. Maybe he’s just with me because he knows there is no future, that he’s safe from being committed because I can’t honestly expect that.

I went into this knowing that I would very likely be leaving next year, and I’m fully aware of the potential heartbreak that I might have to deal with if that happens. But I still want a meaningful relationship, even if we know that there is a potential end date. I want to date as if the future didn’t exist, and now is all we had.

This idea of moving to London next year looms over my life and casts a shadow on everything that I want to do. It makes me feel like I should put my life on hold, that this is just an interim period before I leave. I resent that. I’m here now, and I want to live in this present.

Two Six Six

I’m typing this, slight drunk, at a party of my boyfriend’s friend. This time last year my boyfriend at the time was breaking up with me. I couldn’t believe it at the time, so confused about why he would leave me when we were so good together. Now I can’t believe I’m in another relationship. Life is strange.