It’s just the remnants of A Levels, I tell myself, where I had no choice but to work and revise. All the time.
But that’s not quite right, is it? No, of course not. The last few days, every time I stop, I have a flashback. It’s probably not helping that her saxophone is sat in the middle of my bedroom. I can’t stop thinking about that night, and how stupid I was. I don’t even care anymore that she’s not angry and she doesn’t hate me, because in a weird way, I’m angry at myself. I’m happy that I said what I did, and I think that it will make things better in the end, but I just have a weird feeling inside me. I can’t explain it, I can’t even draw it, but every time I stop I flashback to a few seconds from that night, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I keep remembering things that happened that I’d forgotten about until now. It makes me feel sick. And I hate it. I’m confused.
I’m a big kid deep down. All I really want when I’m trying to sleep at night is someone to give me a big hug, hold me tight, rub my back, and tell me that it’ll all be okay.
I’m hopefully spending Wednesday afternoon with my her. I’m excited, we’re going to see a film that we’re both desperate to watch, and I live in hope that we can be normal, just for once. That we can have fun, no tears. Only smiles and laughter.
Next week I’m starting a new job, helping out a family for three hours a day a few times a week. The pay is TERRIBLE and I should NOT have agreed to it… But I want to keep busy. All the time. It’s the only escape that I can see right now.
Living. Laughing. Loving.