I’m tired but content. Things are bad but things are also good. Some things are bad and other things are good and other things are a bit of both. But right now I am in bed. I am clean-faced and fresh-breathed and comfortable. I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you properly for being so wonderful. All of you. For being the funniest people in the world. For all the fun we have.
I’m in a really, I dunno, grateful mood lately. You know when you get that surge of happiness all of a sudden and your heart swells and, if you could express emotion in a healthy way, you might even shed a tear? I have that. I am so grateful for my wonderful friends. I am so grateful for Francis and Niall, who make every college day hilarious and brilliant.
At the moment, I have a long list of things I need to sort out: various errands I have to run; college work I have to do; stupid things I’ve been putting off for too long. I’m bad at life. I avoid it when it gets hard. I sleep too many hours and I spend more than I can afford and I don’t give anything too much thought. And it catches up on me. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want life to be snapping at my heels and me trying to outrun it. I don’t want to self-destruct again. So I have a list. And I aim to complete that list by tomorrow evening.
It contains silly things like putting some money on my print account, checking my bank balance, and posting a letter. There’s some more serious things as well like showing my medical cert to one of my lecturers, and going back to counselling. And then there’s you.
You’re not on my list but you should be. I am going to see you and we’re going to talk, whatever that means. I know I’m being stupid and naive, of course I am. But there’s a reason for that: I am stupid and naive. Hopeful. Lonely. I miss you. But it’s true what people say: there are plenty more fish in the sea. (Luckily they’re referring to a metaphorical sea because what with global warming, pollution, and oil spills, the numbers of fish are depleting and that is the last thing I need.)
“You can't make someone love you; all you can do is be someone who can be loved, the rest is up to the person to realise your worth.”
I like to believe that. I mean, I’ve spent far too much time trying to conceive a personality to suit whoever I fancy at any given time. And guess what? It doesn’t work. People see through it. And I don’t know what kind of person you would want me to be anyway. The point is, I can’t construct a personality. I’m just me. But I can’t help thinking that I’m crap: my natural personality wouldn’t attract anyone. Of course, this isn’t true. I’ve had boyfriends before, and I got them and I kept them by being myself. Not consciously being myself, but by just forgetting to pretend, you know?
Not everyone will like you for you, and you can try all you want to be the type of person that Hot Guy would fancy but it’s never going to be real. And how amazing will it be when you accidentally stumble across the person who likes you and fancies you and wants to be with you for you? Little old plain you who hates having to go anywhere alone, who is the messiest eater in the world, who leaves everything to the last minute. It’s going to be wonderful. And it’s going to happen.
I’m learning to accept things now, you know? I’m learning to accept myself for myself, for who I am and how I look. It’s not easy but already it feels like a hopeful and brilliant little light.