The alarm went off at 8:00am and, as we both are awful in the mornings, we groaned and hugged each other closer.
Lazy kisses, eyes still shut, fingers lazily tracing patterns on one another’s backs, your hair sticking up all over the place.
You always ask me what I see in you in the mornings, you think you look awful.
To me, though, you’re beautiful.
Your cheeks are flushed, making the freckles on your nose stand out more, your eyes are semi-closed but smiling and then, when you notice me staring, you smile properly and the butterflies in my stomach go crazy.
You’re beautiful in the mornings and the afternoons and the evenings and the nights.
To me you’re beautiful all of the time.
I’m scared of what’s going to happen to us when I leave.
I know our relationship will survive, I know we won’t fall out of love with each other; I’m scared of what will happen to us, as individuals.
I know, ultimately, that it will be good for us, because we both have our plans, we both have our goals for this year and we had them before we happened and they’re still going to happen. It will be good for us.
But will it? What if I get bad again? What if you get bad again?
The reasonable side of me is telling me that if that happens, you’ll have support and it’s important to not have to rely solely on one other person, to make yourself good again without being dependent on that one individual.
I know that.
It doesn’t change anything though- I’m still scared and I’m torn.
I want to travel and do this and have this experience and adventure and yet, at the same time, I want to be with you.
I want to be with you and make sure you never get bad again. I want to be there for you during all the shakes and the headaches and the stress and the paranoia and the doubts and the bad times.
I’m committed to this- I’m not just in it for the good times, for the sex, for the laughs (although they are wonderful attributes). I’m in it for everything. For all the highs and the lows: the good and the bad. I’ve got you.
It will be good for us, I know that.
I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.
He’d say, “that’s the way it goes, but don’t forget, it goes the other way too.” That’s the way romance is- usually, that’s the way it goes, but every once in awhile, it goes the other way too.
You drunkenly rang me for the first time tonight.
You were incoherent and you were talking way too fast for me to fully understand what you were saying.
But I got the gist.
You were honest, unashamedly so, but that’s just the way you are- you don’t bottle things up like I do.
But because of your honesty, in an act that was completely out of character for me, I was honest with you.
I’ll admit, it’s all a little bit scary and maybe it’s all moving a little too fast, but I can cope and I trust you- and I don’t trust others easily.
I’m putting my heart and my head on the line, here, something I’ve always been afraid to do- I’m still afraid to do.
I just hope it’s not for nothing.
- how you’re really passionate about things.
- how logical you are and how you think things through- it’s the complete opposite to me, but it works.
- the way your mind works.
- how I can tell you things, things I’ve never told people before.
- how you look in the morning, when you’ve just woken up and your hair is sticking up all over the place and you’re having your first cigarette of the day and your cheeks are flushed and your eyes still aren’t quite open.
- the way you hold me- it’s a comfort I’ve never felt before.
- your laughs: your chuckles, your ridiculously high-pitched, stoned giggles; your belly laughs.
- the way you make my mind spin, just by a simple touch, your fingers on my skin.
- how you make lists: to-do, to read, what you want to be.
- the way your eyes light up when you talk about something that interests you, how animated you get, how you go off into your own little world.
- how we can spend hours talking about anything and everything and not get bored or distracted because we’re just so interested in what the other has to say.
- how happy you make me. I can’t stop smiling, my cheeks hurt so much.
- how similar and different we are.
I like you a lot.
Maybe I had said something that was wrong.
Can I make it better, with the lights turned on?
Life has a funny way of surprising you, of rendering useless any plans you’ve made in a vain attempt to introduce some form of organisation in your day-to-day life.
A year ago I was looking at universities, revising for exams and looking at loans and accommodation, absolutely terrified of what this year would bring. I was absolutely adamant that I was going to go straight into further education, that I wasn’t going to delay my education and take a gap year. I wanted to go to London, not because it was the best choice for my course, but because it was away from home and I wanted to live in the capital- completely disregarding the prices or thinking about the crippling debt that particular choice would get me.
I distinctly remember asking many of my friends, ‘Why?' when they told me what they planned to do. As far as I was concerned, I was going to go down the traditional route.
Eleven months later and I’m proving myself wrong.
I’m taking a year out; I have a place deferred for next year, in my hometown, which is the best for my course in the country (after Oxbridge), where I already have a job (thus reducing my debt); I’m currently experiencing what it’s like to work full-time, earning my own money and I’m going back to Nicaragua in a month’s time to live there for eight months, to spend some much needed time with the family I rarely see and to hopefully teach English in the local high school.
The self-doubt, existential crisis, flight instinct has yet to kick in- I have yet to, thankfully, lie awake wondering whether I’ve made the right choice. If I’m being entirely honest, it will most probably happen soon, but not because I’ll have any regrets- that’s just the way I am.
However, the rational side of me knows that I’ve made my decision. I’m not completely skipping out on university, I’m simply postponing it. This year is just what they call it: a gap and it won’t negatively affect me. In fact, so far, I’m confident that I’ve made the right decision.
This year probably won’t end up being a ‘life-changing’ experience and I probably won’t find myself spiritually or be ‘enlightened’ but at least I’d’ve learnt that I shouldn’t ever rule out things completely, because I may just end up going back on my word.