Just a thought

I woke up before anyone else this morning and suddenly had the realisation, while considering ways to motivate myself, that out of all the people I could've been I was born as me. I could've been anyone else at all, or no one, but instead I was made as me. Doesn't that prove that I'm supposed to be here? For some reason instead of anyone else it was me that came into being at that particular point in time, and I don't know about you but I think that's pretty amazing – I'm here for a reason, we all are. Not one of us deserves any less than to be alive because we were born to live.
(Which reminds me… alive or just breathing?)

Terrified

First off, I’m writing this on my phone so I can’t promise perfect spelling or any of that. 

Secondly, I will hear from Central Saint Martins about whether or not I’ve got onto their foundation course on Wednesday. I have a ‘backup plan’ but in all honesty I don’t like it – my second choice is a college that does a UAL approved foundation course, so it’s good, but it’s not CSM. Obviously. 

So there’s the stress of not getting in, but then my boyfriend applied for the same course. Now, his art is amazing, not even from a biased view – it’s just flipping amazing. Incredible. Fantastic. Honestly, it’s unique and interesting and just so good

I want him to get into CSM so much, and I genuinely believe that he will. However, I want to get in too. Ideally we both would but this is not, and never has been, an ideal world. 

I’m so scared that he’s going to get in and I’m not, which I would hate to sound mean and selfish even though I know it does. The idea of not being with him and not seeing him every day like I pretty much do now, given that we go to the same school, absolutely petrifies me, and I mean petrifies – I just freeze up and see panic and it’s horrible. I love him so much and the thought of him going there and meeting someone amazing and arty and perfect is awful, but at the same time I want more than anything for him to be happy. I don’t actually, rationally, think he’d just up and leave me because I have far more trust in him than that, but irrationally my brain says otherwise and that argument is far louder in my head. 

Of course, him going there and me not could also result in us staying together and everything would be lovely. 

We could also both get in and be happy there together, or both get in and break up. 

Neither of us might get in and we could stay together or break up. 

I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen and that is horrible because it means that anything could. On the flip side, of course, that means endless possibilities but right now I’m stuck panicking over all these possible futures. 

I just think that, to me, is both going to CSM would mean us staying together, as if that black and white plan is a definite. 

I realise that all of this sounds a lot like CSM is important only so that we stay together, which is actually not true at all – it’s one of the absolute best art schools in the world and has the most amazing facilities. As well as that it attracts people from everywhere, and is essentially a concentrated melting pot of cultures and lives and that fascinates me. I love meeting people and they would all be there because they love art, something I love and always have loved. To get in there would be amazing. 

In all honesty, it’s the only thing in my life I’ve ever worked for – I winged my GCSEs and really my A-Levels aren’t looking too great right now either, although I am trying with them. I’ve always had this stupid mentality of ‘what happens happens because it’s the right thing’ which is bullshit because I think, with GCSEs, the right thing would’ve been for me to have worked and got grades that were good for me, not just ok ones that reflected well on the school. I could’ve done so much better. 

But with CSM… it’s art. It’s the thing I have always done and have always loved, forever. I’ve always had drawings stuck on my walls and photos stashed in boxes or blue-tacked to my windows, mirrors, doorframe… I love making things, and more specifically making things out of nothing – old bits of stuff I’ve found along the street or in skips or something that have become actual pieces of art. I love it, and to me CSM is an opportunity for my hobby to become something more and to maybe be recognised as something more by people who actually know. 

I’ve never worked for anything, but this. My portfolio was beautifully mounted and I love the sketchbooks I showed them. I can honestly say that I tried, and not only that but I gave it my all. 

If I don’t get in and he does, I will be so proud of him and pleased for him but I know that it will hurt me a huge amount, far too much for me to actually admit to, although I think that’s partly because I refuse to think on that pain long enough to really acknowledge how much of it there is. 

I don’t really know what I’ll do if I don’t get in, and for some reason that’s hit me particularly hard with a big ol’ wave of panic this morning. I think it’s partly because I don’t feel like I’m ready for my a-levels or to leave school and my home life isn’t great and everything has just got a bit much lately, and now there’s a few days until I know whether I’m in or not, and whether I am or not determines a lot of my foreseeable future. 

I really really hope I get in, and I hope he does too (and not for that selfish reason, but because he genuinely deserves it). I really really hope I do. For now, we wait. Agh!!! 

So today was one of those days where I’m uncharacteristically emotional. I hate that, because I’ve always had the mentality that crying is a sign of weakness, that emotions in general are a sign of weakness. Only in myself, though, because when other people show how they feel I think it’s pretty cool – they’re proving themselves to be alive and human and real. When it’s me, however, I hate it. As does everyone, I think.

I have exams next week, that I’m oh-so ridiculously stressed about, that don’t even really count for anything and result in grades that won’t ever make it to any official records. Because of that worry, however, I haven’t been sleeping properly and I’ve pretty much stopped eating. It’s been like this for about four days, and I feel so awful. I don’t want to go back to how I used to be, and yet all these food-related thoughts powered by extreme sleep deprivation have infiltrated my mind, or at least become more noticeable than usual.

All of that anxiety has then made it horribly easy for other unwelcome, supressed thoughts to make themselves known (again): your boyfriend doesn’t really like you; your boyfriend’s friends hate you; your boyfriend doesn’t love you (and here come all the reasons why); your friends are only there because they pity you; your grades are slipping and your school will reassess your scholarship and kick you out… I could go on but I think at this point the list would go on for far too many pages.

I should note that I know that a few of these things aren’t actually true, but on days like this the rational side of my mind manages to disappear for a few hours and leave me alone with the other side, the one that mocks and taunts and points out everything that is, and could possinly be, wrong.

I think I mentioned in a previous post that on days like this I hurt the people closest to me, and it’s true; my lovely boyfriend who I like and love and care about so much, who is also the kindest, most thoughtful, funniest and most cleverly intelligent person I’ve ever met, saw me on the stairs at the end of the day, a few very short minutes after I’d ended up crying into my friend’s shoulder in the toilets, gave me a hug and goodbye kiss and I was so close to crying again so I turned away and hot-footed it down the stairs. He laughed from behind me, at what I have no idea, but I’m so terrified that I hurt him and that was a laugh of incredulity at my awfulness. He’s honestly so amazing, and I know that if I keep doing this he’s going to leave. I’m so scared about that.

Hastily pushing that painful topic aside, I was also supposed to have dinner at a close family friend’s house this evening. I went round after school and told both them and my mum that I’d had a horrible day so couldn’t stay to eat as I needed to get to my room and calm down. I should mention that a few tears made their hated appearance around about then because, as well as the nastiness of my day, I knew that I was being rude. Something my mum’s just come home and told me in greatly exagerated detail, having left a few hours after me.

The reason I take issue with my mother sometimes is something I should probably mention and explain here; whenever I’m having a day like this, and even when I’m not, one of her seemingly favourite things to do is mimic me, putting on a ridiculous voice and flapping her arms about while twisting the things I say and intentionally making me feel guilty. She’s even admitted to the fact that emotional blackmail is something she knowingly uses on me, which is horrible because she knows exactly how bad that makes me feel.

Anyway, I’m well aware that this post has become something akin to the content found on an angsty teenager’s blog, so I should end it before it gets worse.

I’ll finish by saying that I hope no one else feels like this, but as it’s inevitable that one or a few of you do please feel more than free to leave an emoji in the comments and I’ll find a way to contact you and try and help.

Shadow Boyfriend

‘Ah, wouldn’t a shadow boyfriend be amazing? I mean, a boyfriend made out of shadow who could hold hands and be there forever…’ – my friend, 2016

A shadow boyfriend, you say? So, essentially someone who’s there for you pretty much all the time and will hold your hand and be there, behind you, most every step of the way? Someone who is flexible and solid and dependable… Except when things get dark and they suddenly fade away. Right when you need them most.

I don’t quite fancy that now, do you? Really, though, that shadow boyfriend thing is how a boyfriend, or girlfriend, should be, minus the disappearing act at the end. Shouldn’t your, excuse me, ‘other half’ be there for you through thick and thin, dependable and reliable and there if you need them, and shouldn’t you be there in exactly the same way for them? I think so…

But then haven’t I just described a best friend? Aren’t they someone who ticks all those boxes, and more, and doesn’t ever leave unless you really push them to?

Doesn’t that, therefore, mean that your, again excuse me, ‘significant other’ be your best friend? Of course, I don’t mean for you to run up to your bestie of however long and ask them out, but shouldn’t you have that level of trust with them, that unwavering knowledge that they’re there? I think so.

It’s pretty awful, then, when you don’t have that. I suppose it can work for a while, a relationship built on something other than trust, but I think that depends on how you define ‘relationship’.

For me, my absolute best friend is ridiculous in all meanings of the word, but they’re also my confidente, ‘my rock’, and the person I know really will be there no matter what, because I will be for them too.

A boyfriend, or girlfriend, should be the same, shouldn’t they? All the things a best friend is, but slightly different.

Perhaps, then, your best friend is your soul mate and your boy/ girlfriend is the person you’re more than happy to spend your life with.

I know I’m only 17, but that’s how it seems to me at the moment, possibly because my whole relationship-thing is pretty rocky, even though I think I’m the only one that’s the case for; my best friend is that one who’s there, always, and my boyfriend is too but in a different way… I can’t talk to him about anything and everything, but I can to my bestie. I’m not sure if that means I’m doing something wrong here, because I’ve just written a post on how you should date your best friend, but for me that’s just the way it is. Weird.

Either way, I love them both a stupid amount, and whatever happens I will always be there for them both.

But I think the point of this post wasn’t to highlight the significance of significant others, but instead to say one thing: whatever you do, don’t get yourself a shadow boyfriend. It’s far better to go it alone than to go it with someone who leaves just when you truly need them.

I Love You

When is the right time to say those three little words?

I think there’s a difference between being in love with someone and loving someone, but I think the distinction is often hazy, and for good reason because there are so many different ways of loving different people.

To me, loving someone is that deep feeling of comfort and a desire to make sure they’re happy. It’s feeling absolutely helpless when they’re sad or hurt, and wanting nothing more than to be there for them in any way that makes them feel even the slightest bit better. It’s that physical ache that you feel when you miss them, and that complete feeling of content when you’re close, or even just when you’re talking. It’s caring for someone and knowing that their needs far exceed your own, putting them before anything because seeing them happy fills you with warmth. It’s never really stopping loving them, no matter what happens. It’s knowing that the idea of losing them petrifies you.

Being in love with someone is slightly different; it’s all of those things but on a different level, one that can be either stronger or weaker than simply loving someone.

When talking to my friend about this, he said that when you’re in love with someone ‘you just know’, but I’m not so sure; to me being in love suggests that one could fall out of love. That idea scares me, so I think that loving somone and being in love with someone come together in the form of ‘love’ and that really they’re just two branches of a bigger tree, but loving someone is a purer sense of that emotion.

I know that there are people who I love, in both ways, and I know that telling those people could so easily be misunderstood because of the stigma attached to the three little words.

I know that there are people I love far more than others in a completely different way to the way I love, say, my sister or my best friend. It’s strange, because the whole idea of love is terrifying to me because if it goes unreciprocated then it would hurt more than anything I can imagine, yet if it was mutual it could be the best thing in the world.

Ultimately, I think it’s one of the strongest emotions there is, and its power is what terrrifies me most.

But to answer my question, I don’t think there is necessarily a ‘right’ time to tell someone ‘I love you’ because it could be misinterpreted or meant in so many more ways than one. But either way, I think you really do ‘just know’ when you love someone, and in whatever form that may be I think it’s important that you let those people know just how much they mean to you.

Appreciation Post For My Idiot

So in my previous post I wrote that going to university would mean leaving everything and everyone I know, but really there is one person I’m most terrified about leaving behind.

If he ever reads this, not that he ever would, he’ll know this is meant for him right away.

I’ve known him forever, literally, and so I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t around. It’s only recently that I’ve realised just how important he is to me, I mean I’ve always known but just never quite acknowledged it, I suppose because I just figured things would stay as they are with us. Anyway, I’ve always considered him the best of all my best friends, possibly because I’ve known him so long, but only in the past few months have I properly realised that he feels the same way.

He’s like my best friend, brother and other half all rolled into one, in the least sappy way possible. I know that I could tell him all this and he wouldn’t bat an eyelid because it’s the truth, but our relationship has never been a sappy one; we’ve never needed to say the ‘I love you’s because we’ve just known, and because I don’t think a simple ‘I love you’ would suffice to express the way we feel.

If anyone is reading this and getting a niggling suspicion that perhaps we’re not just friends, let me just stop you there; we’re friends. That’s all it’s ever been and all it ever will be because that’s just us. (Plus, he’ll always be the boy who sits on me and farts, and the boy who wipes goodness knows what on me.)

He’s the one person I can trust more than anyone else with anything at all, and I know I’m the same to him, because neither of us would ever dream of judging the other. He’s also the only person I don’t doubt likes me – even if he didn’t, it’s been 17 years so we both know by now that we’re stuck with each other, and there’s no point trying to pretend otherwise so a simple dislike for one another wouldn’t keep us apart.

But yes, saying goodbye to him terrifies me… We’ve never been more than 20 minutes away from one another, and I know that there are phones and texts and Skype and I know that there will be university holidays and things, but I’m still terrified.

So I suppose this is a post that probably means nothing to anyone, but it’s also a strange little appreciation post for him as well as a way to let loose some of the ridiculous anxieties I have.

So thank you, idiot, for being amazing (you).