Where Freedom is Responsibility

Today, in the UK, it is the longest day. As I type up my thoughts and feelings at eleven o'clock at night, the sun continues to shine in the sky as if mocking my sense of time - but it would not be incorrect. The events of yesterday are raw and feel as though it were all a dream. Everything around me is surrounded in mist and the only thing that is clear to me is that I am typing to clarify things.

My writing has taken a hit in the worst way. I have been slacking off, dismissing my own principles, criticizing any work that I manage to dribble out of my idle mind. I feel as though I'm letting people down through all of my choices. 

Yesterday, I returned to my university out of free will. 

Well, sort of. My friend asked if she could get a ride up and I agreed to it since I hadn't been to training for months. There was also a photoshoot happening which I had planned so I figured it would be the mature thing to attend it. These are only some of the excuses I made. I can come up with more: I was bored; I felt obligated; I really really wanted to see him again. 

I had been planning this for weeks. I wanted to see him there, I knew he would be there and I wanted to prepare myself for what I would say. 

There was nothing I could say.

I walked into that hall, staring at him from a distance and ended up judging myself for my decision. 

I caved. That was what happened. I sought attention and went about it in the worst way possible. I knew subconsciously yet I let myself go. I should have taken more responsibility for myself, my mental health and my principles.

As things were, we got teamed up for training and his hands were on me once again. There was nothing melodramatic about it. Just cold hands on top of my clammy ones, twisting them into position. I wish I could say there was a spark there, or we flinched when we touch, or at least something - if only to say there was history between us. But there was nothing.

Everything was in my head.

This guy doesn't care about me. He hasn't spoken to me. And even though he held my hand there, looked me right in the eye, said my name confidently, he doesn't give a crap.

I've been hurt about it before. I'm still hurt. But this made it real.

What am I supposed to do?

How do I make this go away?

How do I stop? 

Where I Go Back

I thought I'd never see him again.

On my final day, suitcase and all, he comes to my flat. He tells me he broke up with the other girl, that I was always the one because I tried to get to know him, that he would like to have asked me out properly. He said all the things I wanted him to say.

If only this came earlier.

I am not a strong-willed person. I am weak, but everybody has been right. Time does change your perspective on things. His validation made me feel great, but it is manipulation. To do this to me on such short notice, to take advantage of being option two, to try to lower my self-esteem once again - that's really low.

Yet I couldn't help but let him in, comfort him with hushed tones, reassure him that I was here.

Never did I expect this chance to arise. Never did I expect me to react this way. Never did I expect him to break his friendship with me.

What does that even mean? Am I not even enough to respect? Or is he just that bad of a person? All of the options are awful.

Most of all, I am numb.

I don't feel an amplitude of emotions, in fact I feel nothing. I don't know how I am supposed to face him, talk to him, react to him. Nothing makes much sense anymore.

Here I am now, away from the countryside which I thought was refuge, but it brings me more frustration to think about it. I had finally begun to move on and now I've been pulled back. It was better when he was with somebody else, not giving me the validation I needed.

Being in my home now feels restraining. I want to go back and speak to him but I don't know if that's the desperation talking. I've been doing what everybody tells me to do: give it time. Yet sitting still has not been helping me at all.

There are so many details to run through, so many plans to transpire, so many issues to address. The worst part is that he is a fuckboy who does not care, but I am a girl who does.

I need time to heal again.

I've gone back to the same place again. There is no peace for me. But there will be.

Where I Stay

Finally, I have reached the end of my university year which I had so anticipated, only now I don't seem to want to leave. The peaceful hills and crumbling buildings of Scotland now allure me more than anything else, and I seem not to want to leave the place that has tortured me. But it is so beautiful that the remnants of my heartbreak seem not to matter.

I still haven't cried. Maybe I never cared that much for him, or maybe I am still raw from how he tore me up. Maybe I am too numb, too unfeeling to know how to cry anymore.

It's addictive to begin thinking of ways to confront your own fears. It's as if you're deliberately creating drama around yourself but it's not. It's cathartic to do so. I need something big so that I never have to look back again. Yet all I am seeing is him, with a beautiful girl next to him, in the beautiful backdrop of Scotland.

People have been telling me that it takes time to heal, but people never mention what to do with it.

I have busied myself with studies and now they are over. I have pampered myself with treats and now I feel ugly. I have spent time with friends only to realise how lonely I am and how needy I have become. So tell me, what am I to do?

Each time, I come back to this haunting vision of the girl. She has the silkiest blonde hair and the most brilliant azure eyes I have ever seen - if there was anybody that could act the princess, it would be her. And from the description of her, she seems a shy but sweet girl. And she has him.

I like to think she had the same choice to make as I did, and she decided to stay. I had to leave, just as I have to go home now. This pleasant town will be rid of the remnants of my experiences when I return for the next year. I've always hated the expression: turn over a new leaf, or the whole New Year's resolution. But I guess we all have to start somewhere.

I've become the girl I never wanted to be, and now the only way is up.

I leave in two days, and I think I'm going to say goodbye to him. I'll pluck the courage from within me and face him. I'll tell him: Thank you for giving me this learning experience, and I hope you find what you're looking for. Then I can be stronger, become the woman I need to be, with the life I deserve.

The world is so much more than this coastal town and university studies and stupid fuckboys. It really isn't. I know this and I can do this.

I stay and I leave.

Where I Feel Used

I've been pretty honest about my romantic pursuits on this blog, so I think it is only fair that I tell you the result of them.

If you have read the previous blogs, then you will know I had my eye on this one guy for a long time. And I planned to ask him out, then failed dramatically. Well, a month ago, I somewhat succeeded.

I've never been the social type of person. I don't do well in parties, especially not being the odd one out by not drinking. I'm not advocating peer pressure at all, but in those situations, it's difficult not to be influenced. So I had a drink. And me, being the lightweight who never drinks, feels all fluttery and confident. (Now I just feel stupid and am put off drinking ever again.) Feeling that much confidence means I, of course, go and speak to the person I've been pining over.

We hit it off.

We really did. We talked about everything. It got intense quite quickly, and the flirting didn't go over my head no matter how tipsy I was. So when he told me he could walk me home, I jumped at the chance.

I've never had anybody show interest in me. I've never been in a relationship before. Everything is new and shiny. And he walked me home like a perfect gentleman and then asked if we could hang out tomorrow. I say yes.

That night was conflicting enough as it was. When I was home and had wiped off all the remnants of the night, I couldn't tell if he wanted a solid friendship or if I was walking into something different entirely. And I had to keep in mind that he wouldn't be here for long. How would this influence me? How would he feel? How do I feel?

I'm not exactly in the best position to speak, but I think if you ever feel conflicted in this way, just go for whatever you feel is right. It doesn't necessarily have to be the best decision (trust me on this), but it means you won't regret it.

For me, the best decision was to chance it. So the next night, I was around at his house to watch a movie. Again, a stupid, naive decision, but nonetheless I did it. I didn't know what to expect but he made a move pretty quickly. I was pleasantly surprised and tried to enjoy myself, until he pulled away and told me that he was seeing other people.

It wasn't so much of a slap to the face as it was a what-the-actual-fuck moment.

You can imagine that after wanting something for so long and having it all in my head, then having it crush and burn so quickly, I was pretty shaken up. The logical choice in this moment in time would have been to walk out of there like a diva, because you should never have to deal with this - especially if you've never experienced this before. But I gave it a shot, like the many times I have already, and listened to him explain.

He's a player. There's no way around it.

I am not. I haven't even been intimate with anybody. Our interests are conflicted and misaligned, yet the attraction was real. I didn't know what to do, so I suggested we get to know each other a bit better before I make a decision.

You know, when somebody admits to you that they are a player, you should really put your guard up. But I was blinded by the preconception of romance. Simply put, I was stupid.

And I dragged it out until now.

Now, I feel stupid. I feel hurt. I feel used.

Rationally, I shouldn't be feeling any of this. Because I never really knew him, I only invested a little amount of time into him, I definitely wasn't in love with him. He wasn't exactly Prince Charming either, no matter how much I tried to make him into one. He's more of a Beast.

We ended on very good terms, because we both wanted to stay friends and enjoy each other's company. But of course, after this whole debacle, it's a little difficult to not be awkward around one other. We need to hold back a little.

So this is my withdrawal stage. I feel like crap. And although I'm not heartbroken, I feel awful. Mainly because the other day, I met the girl he's seeing (probably officially now). And as much as I advocate feminism and not dragging others down, I easily found myself comparing us. It felt disgusting to be doing that and to have to acknowledge that he chose her. I mean, I did the breaking up but he went to her. Does that make any sense?

In the long term, I know this is best for me. I deserve more than the less than half attention he gave to me. I still care for him, but I know that one day I will stop. It just hurts right now. It hurts so much that I consider messaging him just to see his face. But I can't. I need to stay where I am, stay strong, stay confident.

My self-esteem is in the gutter right now. All his words seem to add up to nothing, yet I crave it. I'm this starved, pathetic creature that nobody loves. I just have to be okay with it.

And whoever you are, I want you to know that this is one of the lowest I have felt. Even so, I need to cling onto the hope that there are better people out there. And you, reading this right now, deserve more as well. So one day, when I look back at this experience, I'll be able to say I learned my lesson, and that I am happy.
 

Where I Am Weak

I don't know who you are, but you are here to know me. From that, I assume that you are a nice person who is willing to give me a chance - which is why I want to share some experience and advice with you.

This weekend, I got a date with the boy I previously mentioned. I thought I wouldn't pursue it but as chances were, I did. There's a sense of vulgarity there, that I said one thing and did another. Hypocrisy, you might even say. But it was a moment of weakness, of loneliness, of validation.

Things went well, escalated at a rate I couldn't control. And he mentions that he has another girl in his life.

Immediately I pull away.

What does he mean?

I was naive. I assumed exclusivity was a given in any relationship. I made a mistake.

But then he made an offer.

He said, "I'm not expecting anything from you. If you want, we could do anything."

I'm a vulnerable person and I hate being that way. I knew I would cave if I answered, so I did what I could in the situation. I delayed my answer and said I needed time to think.

Someone wise once said that if you hesitate, then the answer is usually no. I disagree. I think that giving yourself time and space will let you come to an answer that you will not regret. Sure, I'm an emotional person who gets swayed easily but I am not impulsive. Those are completely different things.

At the moment, things are still unresolved. I feel sick thinking about it, about him. I know it's bad. I know I should refuse. I just don't know how.

I feel stupid and used even though we didn't do anything. But just the moments of intimacy, the fact that he made a move despite being in some form of a relationship, the way he said that he liked me; all of it feels so fabricated now. I need some form of outlet.

I don't know if anybody will read this, or if you're even willing to give advice on the matter. But I am torn to bits. 

Where My Efforts Go

Dear lovely people reading this,

I feel exceedingly bad that this blog - although it does document my journey in life and growing personality - has become a place for me to complain about the issues in my life. I never hope to use the word 'unfair' here. It's not a concept I believe in and I don't think it would benefit me or you darling readers in any way. At the same time, I don't want to sugar-coat things and tell you my life is going great because that would be lying - which I am 100% against.

So what am I going to rant about today? Well, it's something that upset me today.

As you know, I write a lot. In a day, I probably write a minimum of 10,000 words - but that's because I'm an English student and it's expected of me. Also, I'm not saying that any of my 10,000 words will be any good. They usually end up in the bin. I put in a lot of effort into my writing because I enjoy it and I really do think it's an outlet for me, especially creative writing. So you can imagine why it's such a big shock for me when I get my essay back and the feedback literally says: 'needs proofreading'.

Excuse me while I mentally choke something.

I'm not angry at my teacher, just at myself. Because damn it, I proofread so many times and I still make mistakes.

And while I was having a mini-meltdown in the classroom, I realised that I've been spending too much time in the world of fanfiction (again). This essay that I wrote was half-filled with concepts and ideas that I used in my own creative writing. And that was when my anger dissipated into disappointment, then into embarrassment, then into shame.

How could I have been so stupid as to neglect my own education?

Yet I can't leave my blog, or my fanfiction, or my poetry, or my reading alone. They genuinely bring me joy. How was I supposed to give it all up?

It doesn't help that one of my best friends who lives far away from me sent me a message saying she was worried about me. She certainly had the right to be, but I was more concerned by the fact that I had been seen through. Even miles away, she could see something was wrong. And I was touched by her concern.

I've felt like nothing's gone right these past few months. I feel like I've made no progress and that really demoralises me. When I thought that there was someone out there who cared, it made me desperate. I instantly wanted to reconnect with her. I don't know if you've ever felt this starved for human contact in your life, but it's a pretty sad thing.

I don't want to rely on her, but I also don't want to be sad. So I decided not to see her.

Maybe I'll regret it later. Maybe, like the essay, I'll realise I made a horrific mistake. Maybe I won't. But at least this is my decision.

Do you think this is a twisted way of thinking? Because sometimes I do. I feel like I've gone too far with this. Yet at the same time i can't stop. It's addictive to 'be yourself'. It's addictive to find myself, even when I'm buried ten feet under.

I don't plan to stop - with writing either. And I can only hope you don't give up on me.

Where Ideas Flow

Today, I am going to talk about my writing, specifically fanfiction. Mainly because it's my main hobby and a side-job, but also because I find it extremely challenging.

Nowadays I'm trying to write freely. (Meaning that I write whatever springs to mind: fanfiction, poetry, prose fiction, journals, blogs.) It does help keep me sane. 

So in these past weeks I have been updating my profiles on both fanfiction.net and archiveofourown. (Please feel free to look me up and read some bad writing. It's under the same name.) But with being active on the internet, I found that I've become more prone to judging myself and listening to other's opinions instead of my own. 

I don't know if you've heard of 'Anna Karenina', or even if you've tried to read it. Actually, no. Don't read it. It's long and dull. But I had to, and with reading came research. The author of 'Anna Karenina', Leo Tolstoy, serialized the chapters of his massive novel. And with each chapter, he listened to the reviews of his readership and then adjusted the plot or the theme or the characterisation. 

My question is: Is that really his own writing if he was influenced by others?

You could argue that writing a 350,000 word novel and a gay fanfiction is very different, but I say that writing is writing. 

I don't know if I should be swayed.

And the harsh critics have a point. But it's my decision whether to compromise or not. I feel extremely conflicted, because I love my reviews. Absolutely adore their opinion. But I also love my writing. 

Writing is my way of expression. Should I really be so daunted by the fact that other people want to change it? 

There are so many questions that linger in the air, and it makes me uncomfortable. Sometimes I open up a word document and stare at the blank page for a full minute, wondering if I should be writing at all. And if I did write, would it be any good? Would anybody else find it good? Is it worth the trouble?

I started writing because I enjoyed it - and because I was desperate to get Mikan and Natsume marry. That was when I was very young. Even now, I remember how elated I was when I got my first ever review. I felt valued. And now, I don't really know if I'm writing for readers or for myself. 

My latest endeavors: How To Tell Your Brother You've Been Dating His Best Friend and How to Babysit Lovino Vargas, have been received positively. And I am so glad they are because I worked quite hard on them. I am also adamant that my planning stay what it is, so that I will not change my opinion. 

Fanfiction is wonderful for me because the characters already exist but I get the chance to make them my own. It's like borrowing a costume and acting out my own scenes. While it's so much fun for me, I feel as though I'll hit a wall soon. And once I do, people will turn away from my writing. 

That would be the absolute tragedy. 

So tell me, what should I do? 

Where do I find the place I can write? Where my ideas can flow freely? Where I feel free?