Why is it we always want to rant and ramble late at night? I wonder what the first ever deep and meaningful was like. And why do we do it anyway? Why do humans keep diaries and journals and blogs and feel the need to tell other people what they're thinking? I suppose not everyone does, I never used to tell people anything private unless I had to but these days I have absolutely no shame whatsoever and I think most of my friends know more about whats going on with me than I do sometimes. I'm not sure why that's a negative thing, but it feels like it.
I hate that half of me is still back in Exeter. I know there are a certain few people I'll still visit, but other than that how are you supposed to cut all ties with a place where you've had so many experiences over the past few years? Just because someone isn't a close friend or an old boyfriend why should that make it any less important to keep in contact...but then why keep in contact with someone when, from a completely impartial point of view, they probably won't ever have any significant impact on your life again? I don't want to keep marking off weekends in my diary so I can jump back on a train to Exeter, especially when I've realised how many incredible friendships I have at home and how easy it is to pick up where you left off three years ago.
I had a little panic earlier. The next year of my life is going to spent trying to remember to send "pre-midnight" texts to my parents if I decide to stay out and making up excuses about where I am and who I'm with...no more crashing in at 5am and drinking in tea in the kitchen and leaving a trail of belongings up the stairs. I might get another tattoo. I'm not sure why, I got over my tattoo phase years ago. I really wanted to paint something earlier but I have no idea what...I used to have so much patience for things like that, I'd spend days over a painting and now I can't even be bothered to doodle. I don't know why I'm talking about doodling. I get really frustrated with myself these days, I keep thinking horrible things (also, I've had this thing recently where something terrible will cross my mind and I'll think "god, can you imagine..." literally always those exact same words and now I think I've jinxed myself and one day one of these horrible things will happen and it will all be because I kept saying "god, can you imagine" like I was asking for it or something) and I keep completely fucking myself over too, entirely in self-sabotage mode, and where as whenever anything used to go wrong I'd write really long lists of the things I needed to do to make everything ok again and turn things around now I've completely screwed everything up so many times I know my lists are useless and so I have nothing to do, no motions to go through, to even TRY and make myself feel better. And what is a Luckey Oakfield girl without her lists????
This time last year I was in a serious relationship, completely and utterly in love and applying for training contracts with top Law firms. What's scary is that I was so blissfully happy, and I can remember what it felt like, but I can't seem to imagine myself like that again. I know it's a massive assertion to make but I quite seriously can't imagine myself ever feeling that attached to someone again. And part of me really wants to but whenever I get anywhere close I get this horrible uncomfortable feeling like things are expected of me and the same seems to be happening with careers; the thought of being stuck in some 3 year graduate programme absolutely terrifies me. When did I become such a commitment-phobic cliche?
I was really hoping writing all this down would get it off my chest and help me get to sleep but I'm wide awake. Quite seriously I have no idea what to tell myself or how to remind myself to stop fucking up at the moment. How can you be so in control one minute and so...the next. And I know it probably did happen around the time we broke up, so was I a perfectionist for me or for someone else? Everyone claims you go away to uni to find yourself but quite honestly I had a much better idea of what I wanted from life before I left.
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