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Monday, June 12, 2006 

Sun shines out from behind gloomy clouds

This is hard for me. But it’s easier than I expected. I’m not pregnant. The relief at that news was nearly overpowering. I’ll admit, the idea of living at home and dumping the baby on my best friend every morning while I went to uni was starting to sound appealing to me, especially when I found the website devoted entirely to baby names. But a baby? No. People can tell me congratulations, and other such morale boosting things, but Jesus Christ was I relieved to see blood. My history is not such that I would wish to pass on to a child. Maybe some day when I look out my window onto other oceans, and when there is someone in my life that I could actually contemplate raising a child with, but until then, I’m happy without.

Everything seems so final at the minute. I’m planning my leaving party. I know that I’m actually only going for two months, and that after that I’ll be back and in everyone’s hair as much as I am now, but it’s me. I’m not too fussed about the excuses- any reason to have a party is great. So we’re borrowing my aunt’s field and taking advantage of the astonishingly beautiful weather. It does mean that for the last weekend that I am in this country I will be either hung over or drunk due to the Leaver’s dinner for our final goodbye to full time education on the Friday, and then my goodbye party on the Saturday. But at least it starts the summer with a bang and means that I’ll have something to occupy me on the plane on the Sunday morning, even if that something happens to be a headache.

I said goodbye to him. And not just in here with a long essay on my mournful loss, but actually. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, not to his face. But I wished him luck, told him to try not to come back too camp, and told him to take care. And I said goodbye. I finally managed to do what I’ve been wishing I would let myself do for months. And I changed my mind.

People told me, “It’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all.” But I despise cliché’s with a near psychopathic passion. When recently on the phone to a friend, I had to hang up on her because she could have been reciting from “100 most overused cliché’s in the English language,” and I wouldn’t have known the difference. I despise them, and they’re worse when you are having an argument. How can you argue with someone who is talking in cliché’s? They don’t mean anything! It’s like expecting to win an argument by not saying anything, and then getting confused when the other person gets frustrated.

Anyway. Lost myself on a slight tangent there. I never believed the people who said it was better to have loved and lost. It didn’t make sense. How can you celebrate losing something that important? I mean yeah, you have the memories, but the happier those memories are, the harder it is to get over them, and the more pain you feel when remembering them. But I finally got it. I loved him, I lost him, and now I’m okay. I miss him slightly, his crazy sense of humour, and the way no matter how stupid my comments were, he would always respond with something equally or more stupid. The boy had imagination, and that I respond to. But it’s made me more adult, it’s made me more independent, and it’s made me become more the person that I will be, as opposed to the person that I am now.

So while I loved and lost, what I lost was made up for by the experiences gained. The wounds aren’t still open, and I can talk to him now and only feel a faint twinge. There is still the twinge, and always will be probably. But I don’t feel wrong when I flirt with others anymore, and if I behave scandalously then I know that it is only me who will get hurt by it. I’m happier, and finally, genuinely happy to be me again.

A lot of things have gone wrong recently. For a while I truly began to hate myself. That’s one of things he gave me that I’m glad I lost. But it wasn’t just him who was to blame for it. I’m not like that anymore. I’m less needy, more self-assured, and far more confident (though considering my confidence needed little boosting before, that one isn’t necessarily so wonderful). And while it feels like the end of something. While it is the end of a lot of things really. It’s also the beginning of more. And that I could really grow to enjoy.

Anyway, enough, I have a party to organise, host, and most of all, enjoy. :D

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Cheer up, there are plenty more pebbles on the beach and fish in the sea. After all, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

You have other irons in the fire and other fish to fry this year, although you should bear in mind that "east or west, home is best".

Hope this helps. ;)

Colonel: Thanks. You've cheered me up, but also made me want to throw a brick at the monitor. Haven't heard the "east or west" one for a while though...

Solitaire: Feel like I'm talking to a weird internet game- that name is just silly. Karaoke- great! I have zombie and a few others that I can burn to a CD. And you and Hayley plus cocktails equals total mayhem. Add in karaoke and I'm really going to be dead on the plane. I hope I don't have to start work as soon as I get there. I'll be utterly dead.

xxx

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About me

  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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    albatrosssavethe

    * In 2001 one New Zealand fishing boat killed over 300 seabirds in just one trip, while fishing for ling.
    * Each year over 300,000 seabirds are killed by longline fishing.
    * Over the past 60 years some albatross populations have declined by 90%.
    * Annually around 10,000 albatross and petrels are caught in New Zealand waters alone.
  • Save the Albatrosses
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