Hey, you! Best friend! I love you, stupid!

Don’t forget that okay?! You mean lots to me and I miss you every single day. Last year, I used to get upset. I was afraid, I guess, that something would happen and you wouldn’t be there any more. Of course, that wasn’t true. You’re always here to stand beside me and to giggle with the morning after a night out (yep, that’s got to be the best bit!).

This year has been different. I’ve been a lot more confident, in everything. I think that a lot of that has stemmed from the confidence in our friendship. I know you’re here, and that’s it. I know that when I see you again nothing will change, we will laugh, I will cry, we will worry, we’ll dance, and everyone will ask if we are a couple (lols, just no!). When I said goodbye to you this weekend, I knew it probably wouldn’t be six months until I saw you again. Of course I was sad, but not sad enough to hurt me. We hugged, we promised to Skype, and I skipped off.

Now though, I’m absolutely aching for you. I feel as though I miss you with every bone in my body, and that’s something that I haven’t felt so far in second year. It’s a little like last year, but there’s something that I can’t quite pinpoint that isn’t the same. I’m not hurting. I know you’ll be back, and I know when I inebetably need you on results day you’ll be there (hell, my next step is to call you ‘just for a chat’ – I’d love to be spontaneously confident enough to do that, and I’d love it even more the day you called me out of nowhere!). It’s not helping though, it’s not making the aching feeling in my chest go away. It’s like I’ve realised all over again exactly how much you mean to me and I just want to share that with you. I don’t want you to be hundreds of miles away, because I’m coming down from our amazing weekend and reality and a lack of laughter is slowly hitting me, and it’s hitting me hard! I’m not hurting, and I’m definitely not afraid. I’m simply aching.

Perhaps I’m finally learning the true definition of ‘I miss you’. What do you think?


I miss you.

It’s not about who you miss at 4am when you’re lonely, it’s about who you miss at 2pm when you’re busy.

And I miss you. Twenty-four-seven. Like seriously, sometimes I think it’s a little weird exactly how much I miss you. But I guess it’s not, really. It makes sense. I thought the hardest part of these five weeks apart would be when I was in a place that I’ve visited the most with you by my side. London, of course. While we went to places that you introduced me to, and I did wish for you to be by my side, it wasn’t as hard as it is right now. I still missed you though. I’m always missing you.

Right now, it’s a little different. There’s 7 days and 17 hours until you arrive at my university to visit me for three nights. I’m so excited! A few days ago, you told me that you are excited, and that made me smile more than ever. But with exams looming, my stress levels at an all time high, and more tears than I have time for, I miss you more than ever.

I spend a lot of my time working out the time difference between home and where you’re visiting your dad, wondering if you’ve gotten up yet, how far you skied today, and what you’re eating. I hope that you’ll call me tomorrow, because it’s been so long since I heard your voice, and your voice is one of the few things that comforts me. It relaxes me, and while it’ll never have the same effect as one of your bloody awesome hugs, I feel a certain amount of tension fall from my shoulders when you call to say hi.

Now though, I need to concentrate on my exams. I miss you lots, and while I’d quite happily talk to you all day long, and it’s usually self inflicted, I really really can’t. I just can’t be distracted anymore, and so I mustn’t allow myself to contact you. That’s going to be hard.

But I’ll see you next week and we can talk and laugh and drink chai and smile, and cry if we need to, too. But we’ve got three days of fun to look forward to, and I’m so excited to steal your time away and claim it for myself.

I can’t wait to see you, but I miss you. You’re my big sister, and it’s hard without your little piece of the jigsaw to keep my heart glued together.

Missing the Music

I’ve joined orchestra, concert band, and flute choir. I’ve made a few trips to the practice rooms, too. My flute definitely isn’t missing out on the uni action, and it’s providing vital breathing space for me from work.

One thing is simple though, it’s just not the same. I may be playing my flute, and things like playing Alladin might take me back to my solo in year ten, but it doesn’t mean it’s the same.

I want to be back at school, so I can have flute lessons. I want to walk into that room every Wednesday and know that for fourty minutes, I can be me. I can be quiet, refuse to make decisions, and laugh when I struggle with double tounging. I can say what I need to say and even if I end up crying, I won’t be judged. Nobody will be told about what I say, and I’m safe to let down all my guard and let the music swallow me.

I miss my flute teacher. I think about the day my best friend took me to her, crying my eyes out, and she just arranged for us all to have coffee so that we could talk properly. It was a fairly horrible day, but she reacted in the way that I never expected her to.

Often I wonder if it would be okay to just drop her a text. Say hi, see how things are going. I don’t think that’s appropriate though, is it?

I just want to escape back to that little room, and let the world swirl around me in a few moments of blissful ignorance.

Living Without You…

It’s hard to take the pain that comes with loosing someone. Coping alone is often a lot more difficult than you ever intended, and sometimes it can just be too much to handle. There’s several things that affect the hurt, and sometimes, it doesn’t matter if that person has died, or just moved far away. The changes can be difficult to come to understand and live with, and the situation can often be hard to wrap your head around. Dealing with the other new things, or even just the normal day to day things gets harder and harder, and you spiral.

Lots of things in my life end in spirals.

It’s dangerous.

Today, I’m developing a migraine. I probably shouldn’t be staring at a screen and blogging. I should be eating and sleeping. But I’m not, because my brain is in overdrive AGAIN.

I’m thinking about my grandad. It’s just over a year since he passed away, and I miss him. I won’t lie, I haven’t thought about him every day, because it’s just too painful. But with the one year passing, I have been left with little choice. Perhaps I never did have the best relationship with my grandad, but it doesn’t stop the heartache associated with his loss, as well as the regret, and the guilt.

I also heard today that one of my favourite members of Primary School staff passed away at the weekend, in a car accident. Just months ago, I bumped into this lady in the supermarket and she jokily warned my mum about how uni would change me, and I’d grow up so fast (along with a few other slightly less appropriate comments about uni, involving drink and sex). She really was a lovely lady, our families got on well, she always had a smile on her face, and her kids were in ‘that group’ that used to play together due to parent relationships, and we all got on fabulously.

Those thoughts, in addition to what many might view as a smaller loss, can prove to be overwhelming. Sometimes, distance can be harder than loss. With loss, you eventually must accept that a person is gone, but with distance, it’s as though they’ve been pulled just out of your reach, but their presence still taunts you. They’re not here when you need them, and over time, when you only ever see their words on a screen or paper, you can slowly begin to feel like they no longer exist. You want to believe that they miss you in the same way but when you’re curled up, missing them, it’s hard to believe that. Because you’re not worth it. They may be worth everything in the world, and that’s why you need to see them so desperately, but what are you? You shouldn’t be worth their time and energy, and if they are thinking, then they shouldn’t be wasting their time.

And if they do go. Like, really go. I don’t want to even think, but I do. I imagine what happens if my best friend is sectioned or dies and just the thought crushes me.

My head hurts, I’m loosing my train of thought, and my words are dissolving.

I have no choice but to lay on my bed and cry. It’s only one hundred days, but the tragic death of my teaching assistant shows how anything could change, it may only take a second. One hundred days could very very easily turn into forever.

Living at distance, we can cope. Living without you, would be one step too much. I’ve already lost a lot, and I couldn’t handle that one last step. I couldn’t live without you.


Coping Alone

Why is it that when you suddenly decide that you want to speak, there’s nobody there to talk to? Adults make forgotten promises and give false hope, seemingly never there when you need them, or just not saying what you need them to say. I’ve given up with adults, talking to adults is pointless.

There’s one person I want to talk to right now, but I can’t. When this kind of thing is going on, and I’m hearing the news I’m hearing, there’s only one person that I want to talk to. But my best friend is currently 380 miles away, and she’s only going to get further on Saturday when I go to Uni too. It’s not like the summer, or even A Levels, when day time is sacred but the nights can be filled with text messages, sleep is too important now. She’s officially a Uni student, and she doesn’t have time for late night conversations, even if she thinks she does. If she’s not sleeping, she’s working. Every single day at Uni counts, and there is no escaping that reality.

All I want is an email, a text, a phone call, something. Yes, I Face Timed her today but that was just nicey nicey catch up. I just want someone to ask if I’m okay, and to say they’re here to listen. Out of the blue, to ask ‘how are you doing?’ I can’t ask her to do that though, she’s busy becoming a doctor. I miss her so so much, and it doesn’t matter how badly I want to talk, I can’t ruin it for her again. I messed up badly enough the last year or two, I can’t make it go wrong for her again.

Someone said today that we were so close we were like sisters. I love that. I love that we can be that close and I don’t want to loose that but I don’t want to ruin uni and it’s all so hard to decide what to do.

I just want someone to talk to, someone who won’t let me down, and someone I can trust. I don’t want them to interrupt, I just want to talk it out, to let it out. I’m hearing and feeling so much and I’m struggling on my own. Sadly, there is only one person I can think of right now that fits that description, and I just can’t ask that of them. I could write an email, but the response is never the same. You don’t get advice as you go along, and the reassurance just isn’t quite right. I’m sure I’ll be okay though, everything is okay in the end.

Really though, I just want a hug. That, I definitely cannot have.

Living. Laughing. Loving.


I’m Lost Without You

You’ve gone already, and I miss you. You’ve left. I got my results, I didn’t get into Uni, but you did, and you’ve gone, over four hundred miles away. I’m in tears every couple of hours because I miss you so so much! Please come back, please stay in touch. I’m lost without you. I need you here.

Flipping heck, I’ve no idea what has happened today. Results day isn’t even for another two and a half weeks! My best friend’s Uni start date isn’t for another 40 days. My dreams and emotions however, tell me differently. They’re all over the shot.

I know what it is, really. It’s this silly book that I’m reading. By the end of chapter three I knew that the ‘best friend’ was just like mine, and I am just like the main character. Now at the half way point, said ‘best friend’ has to move away, and they’re loosing contact. The character feels like she’s had to give up her friend. Just like me.

It feels like a reflection of my life in a few weeks time, and it makes me feel sick. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that I’ve got tonnes of time with her over the next few weeks, and even if we are moving physically, it won’t change our relationship emotionally, I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

Because I’m going to miss her. I already miss her, and she hasn’t even left yet. That’s complete madness, because I know that really I’m NOT loosing her!

Living. Laughing. Loving.


A letter to… A Deceased Person

Dear Grandad,

I miss you. I miss you and I think about you every single day. I don’t believe in god, and so I don’t think I believe in heaven, but I’d like to think that you’re in a happier place now. Deep down, I’d like to know that you aren’t just rotting away under the ground. I pick stars out for you sometimes, grandad. I’ll never forget you.

I wonder what you’d think if you could see me now. It’s not even been a year since we lost you, but so much has changed. I passed my driving test, and I’ve been driving for eight months! I know that would make you happy, and you’d think all your little tips from when you were an instructor years ago were what made me pass. I cut my hair off for charity, and ran 10K. I know you’d have sponsored me, you’d have been proud. You’d have loved to have seen the photos, and you’d have ruffled my new hair and made some kind of joke. What about my A Levels, grandad? What would you say about those? I’m waiting for my results, and I’m nervous! Wouldn’t it have been cool if you could have seen me go off to uni, and I could have written to you. I passed my grade seven flute, and I’ve just finished my last tour. Yes, I can hear you now, taking the mickey, but proud all the same. I’d play my pieces for you grandad. I regret never having the courage to come to the care home and play before you died. I regret even more not playing or making a speech at your funeral.

I turned eighteen, grandad! I’m an adult now, how cool is that?! I spent a few days in London, and I had a fabulous time. I’d have loved for you to be here to celebrate, it wasn’t the same without my whole family.

You’re always here with me grandad, I wear a locket with your initials on my wrist, every single day. You were a mardy old sod sometimes, but we loved you. We still love you. And I hope that somewhere out there, you’re thinking of me, too.

Lots and lots of love,

Alex xxxx

*This is part of a personal summer challenge that I have set myself to write ‘a letter’ to a different person or thing every week. I plan for there to be nine letters in total, and if anyone would like to join in this summer, even if just for one letter, or a letter to a person of their own, please link back to my blog, as I’d love to see it!*