Words

More Polly Goodness

I've been scrapping again!
I was very lucky to have a pyjama day yesterday and get this baby finished off.
You know when you've got something sitting there waiting to be finished and you know it's there and you want to get the time to complete it, but it just seems to keep slipping away? Well that's where I was at.
But yesterday I had no excuses, I was in my PJ's all day thanks to a big Saturday night and Josh had gone to work, it was just me and a free afternoon!
Speaking of Josh, he's the subject of this particular page...

Boy & Beer.
I'm sure anyone reading this who isn't entirely up to date with their indue music bands won't quite get the reference (there's a band called Boy & Bear for those of you playing at home), but I had the title picked way back when I first saw the photo!
Here's some detail shots...




This Polly Scrap kit I've had the honor of playing with is a real joy!
Everything just works together, there's none of that looking at something that comes with the kit and wondering what you're going to do with it like you get with some others.
So much fun!

The June kit gets released soon too and I'm itching to see what's in it!
Kayla released this sneak peek snap shot a couple of days ago - don't the colours just look DELISH?!

Pretty right?!
And a bit of Hambly never goes astray!
If you want one though, I'd get on over as soon as they're released as they go pretty quickly~

I'll be back before the week's out with another project to show - in the meantime, happy Monday and have a great week!

xxx
SJ

Guest Designing!

No, really!
I got asked to guest design for Polly Scrap Kits this month.
And I said yes, partially because Kayla Renee is an absolute doll, partly because the kits are goddamn gorgeous (I mean, have a look at this)...


and partly because I needed a creative kick up the butt!
And with product as gorgeous as that, I got it!

So here's my first page...


 I was hoping to get it up before Mother's Day, but was having a few typepad issues.
My beautiful mummy and me!
Here's a few detail shots:

"... throughout all of my highs, all of my lows, all of my wins & losses, all of my accomplishments, every one, she's been there, cheering me on, picking me up, loving me, she is my mum, she is my all..."

This is a seriously gorgeous kit, full of Heidi Swapp and Basic Grey and Studio Calico, and all of those yummy brands that we all love so much! How gorgeous are those little wooden lady silhouettes?!
Unfortunately, it's sold out this month, but Kayla has a knack for putting them together, so have a look at her shop for the few that are left from previous months, and keep an eye out for next month's kit too!

She even does mini kits, also full of lush goodness, that are just perfection!

I'm nearly finished a second page now too, so be sure to keep an eye out for it, coming in a day or so!
Thanks for checking in gorgeous people!

xxx
SJ

Some Moments Are Forever.

There are some moments that simply stay with you forever.
A week ago I was sitting at work when my phone buzzed. I looked down and saw a text from one of my best friends.
The moment that I read that text, I burst into tears.
The moment I read that text is one of the moments that will stay with me forever.

Over the 12+ years that we've been friends there have been many moments that will stay with me forever.

I remember sitting in the high school counsellers office with her while she cried and not understanding why she was so constantly upset and why she couldn't just pull herself out of it.
I wanted to understand but I was young and selfish and in my mind, if you weren't happy, you just figured out a way to GET happy.

I remember not long after we finished high school when she came to my house after a doctors visit.
She told me she had a block of chocolate in the car and needed to have a girl talk.
We went to the river, sat at the port and she rolled up her sleeves to show me all of the cuts.
We talked for a long, long time and I went home and cried for an hour or so.
I'm sure she did too.

I remember my first year of uni when she came to my apartment to pick up her car after a lecture.
She had been put on a new medication.
It wasn't agreeing with her.
Her eyes were glazed over, her brow was sweaty, she was mumbling incoherently and she simply wasn't there.
Someone was, but it wasn't her.
My housemate and I, her two best friends, tried to stop her from driving, but we simply couldn't. She took her keys and she drove home in peak hour traffic.
She didn't text me to tell me she was OK like I'd asked her to and I didn't sleep that night until she showed up to park her car again for the next day of classes.

I remember the time her medications got mixed up and she ended up in hospital for my birthday.
I remember calling her on that birthday and her falling into an even deeper depression that she couldn't be there with me.
I remember her own birthday party three weeks later when she told me the only thing that had stopped her killing herself was that someone would have to find the body.
I remember her mother physically having to drag her out of bed for several weeks because she had simply given up.

I remember Easter last year when we were both very drunk and very tired and she told me that she had been sexually assaulted as a child and that she had never told anyone besides me.
I remember the weight of what I had just found out and the gravity of not being able to tell anybody.
I remember that I understood so much of the past ten years so much clearer.
We sat together until 4am, crying and talking and crying and talking.
I hugged her so tightly.

I remember two months later when I got the message that she had ended up in hospital and would probably be there for some time.
No one could quite tell me what had happened and I couldn't quite tell anyone what I knew.
I called my mum and I cried. I told her what I knew and we both cried.
I called my friend every night that she was in hospital.
She didn't want to talk much at all but she told her parents not long after she got out.

There have of course been moments in between then and now.
I remember finding out that she was going to be staying for an extended period in a clinic in Melbourne.
I remember feeling insanely ill and dry wretching in the corner after I first visited her in there.
I remember scrapbooking with her and not wanting to leave my craft knife lying around, just in case.
I remember how shit a friend that made me feel like I was.

What I remember most about each of these moments is just wanting to find a way to let her know that I love her, that we all love her and that we would go to the ends of the earth to make her feel better.
What I remember most about each of these moments is feeling hopeless as hell because there just wasn't a way to get that through to her.

I remember a lot of moments about our friendship, but last Tuesday I was sitting at my desk and my phone buzzed.
I looked down and saw a text from one of my best friends.
The moment that I read that text, I burst into tears.
The text told me that a paedophile had been put in prison.
I cried for releif, I cried for exhaustion, I cried for love for my best friend.
I cried because finally the person who had made all of those moments I remembered happen, had finally been brought to justice.
I know that the sentence doesn't mean that the moments will stop, in fact I'm certain that they won't.
But what I was crying for was the validation, the notion that this is a step towards healing, not only for my friend but for everyone who has been there for her for my moments and for all of the others.

That moment of validation, that moment of healing, that moment that I read that text is one of the moments that will stay with me forever.

xxx
SJ

My Poppy.

Let me introduce you to somebody who is really important to me.
This is my Poppy.His name is Gerry.
 
My Poppy is my main man.
He is at the top of my list; even higher than Gerard Butler or Ryan Reynolds.
Even higher than Ryan Reynolds as Green Lantern (those of you who know me know that's a big deal), because my Poppy is my real superhero.
He always has been.

I was raised by a single mother, so my grandparents have always been a huge presence in my life.
My Nan and my Pop have always been there to help out and I love them both very much.
Nan was definitely always the one that 'got' me better than anyone emotionally, but my relationship with my poppy has always been a very special one.
I have always been his 'Possum' and he has always been my Superman.

As a kid, I spent a lot of time with Pop.
When he wasn't working, he was always out in the garden while Kane and I would be kicking the footy around or playing some form of backyard game.
This is where he taught me a lot of my lessons (usually after some form of girly tanty about Kane hitting me too hard with the footy or about not wanting to admit I was bowled out in cricket) about honesty, integrity, strength and just generally not being a sook.
When Pop had friends over for a beer, I'd sit with them at the table and listen to them chat, if I was lucky, I'd get to have the last sip of Pop's beer.
I remember he used to carry a keyring around with Pixi photos of Kane and I back to back and the words 'I Love Poppy'.

As a teenager I remember a girl coming up to me at school and telling me she'd recently met my Pop at the hospital.
I asked her how she knew it was him and she told me that once he'd seen that her school uniform was the same as mine, he had asked her if she knew me and continued to list all of the achievements of mine that he was proud of.
He'd never tell me straight out to my face, being of the tough love generation and all, but I would hear him boasting to people about my school grades or that I was the lead in a play or that I'd won an award.
Of course we had our arguments, I was a bratty tenage girl and I was (of course) always right.
He was stubborn and hard headed and questioned the opinions I formed, but he has always been proud, even of the smallest accomplishment.

As an adult, it's continued that way.
His pride has extended to my moving out of home, to my getting a decent job, to my going overseas for the first time. I remember mum telling me last year that she had heard him boasting to someone in the local shopping centre that I had entered into fashions on the field at the local race day, no big feat, but one that he felt needed sharing nonetheless.
But more than that, his pride extends to my friends and their accomplishments too. Whenever they visit to see my grandparents with me, he asks them about their lives and what's new with them and I can see that he is proud of their acheivements too.
And after everytime he sees them, he reminds me how good a friends I have and tells me not to lose them.
He is 'Pop' to them as well.

And to be honest, as an adult, I've grown to realise that I am proud of him.
I have watched his overwhelming strength and dedication in the face of my grandmother's deteriorating state.
When I was young, I always thought he would be lost without her, but he has proven himself beyond even what I used to think he was capable of.
He cares for her, he cooks, he cleans, he makes sure she is comfortable, he loses sleep with concern, and until very recently, he did it all while refusing any sort of releif or help; a little bit out of pride, but mostly out of love.

 I adore that man with all of me, but more than that, I admire him.

Recently, I've been thinking about my Poppy a lot.
If I don't call or visit him every couple of weeks, I am bound to be told off for it, and last Friday he told me that he had been to have tests on his heart and that it's pretty much only working 50% and that the doctors said he still has 5 to 10 years in him.
For a man in his mid 70's, this still equates to a decent innings, but it is the idea that he has an expiry date that stings. The idea that my poppy can't leap tall buildings in a single bound, that he isn't invincible; the idea that he is fallible just like the rest of us mere mortals, absolutely flattens me.

In a way, I feel like life has gone back on an unspoken deal we had.
I was supposed to end up a decent person and in return, he was supposed to be around forever to make sure I stayed on track and tell me I was doing a good job.
I feel like I kept my end of the bargain.

I don't know how I'm going to cope when that 5 or 10 years is up, but I DO know that in the meantime, I plan to make him the proudest Poppy alive, because I am so proud to have him as my grandfather, humanity and all.

xxx
SJ

Exit Wounds

So I've been thinking a lot this past few days (look out!).
As most of you know, I became single last year and have since entered the scary world of dating.
Scary because, well, have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?
Remember this scene...?
 
If you haven't or you dont remember, allow me (I watch it at least once a month!).
Directly after hanging up those phones, Marie says to Jess:
"Tell me I'll never have to be out there again!"

Preach it sister.

So, that's where I was at, and I was happy with that.
'Out there', for someone who has been blissfully inside a bubble for many years is a whole new world (And not the good, Alladin song kind).
We all just want someone who likes us for us, and having to go out and find that again is daunting.
What if that person doesn't exist in any other form besides the one you've just left behind?
What if no one truly 'gets' you and you actually are the batshit crazy lunatic you've always suspected you were?
These are the questions that keep you awake at night in the big wide world of 'out there'.

And so I started dating again.
I met some boys, and they were nice.
And I kissed some boys, and that was nice.
All in all, my self esteem has gotten better.
But here's the thing , the meeting and the kissing, while they are lovely, don't quite fill all of the voids.
Eventually, it was inevitable for me that I would want to be in a relationship; a good, strong, stable one.
Problem is, I don't ever seem to choose the 'relationship' guys.
The guys I choose, as I once told a friend (from inside the comfort of my aforementioned relationship bubble), are ALWAYS the wounded men.
It wasn't until I was 'out there' that I realised how true this was.
Even the guys who seem normal, end up being wounded.
Deceitful, normal looking tricksters!

A bullet wound to the chest from a girlfriend who they never thought was going to leave them, scars all up their arms from carrying pressures of an unloving parent, low self esteem, faux self esteem, fear of rejection, fear of self, emotionally attached, emotionally detatched - I've seen it all.
And the fact is that, as nice as some of these wounded boys can be, and as pretty as some of these wounded boys can be (and some of them are very pretty), it can only get them so far before you realise how fucking hard it can be dealing with someone elses wounds, and they start to become your own.

Several weeks ago I was in a semi-something-like-a-relationship, and I broke things off with that boy.
I had been seeing him for about 6 months and I had figured out that I just couldn't deal with his wounds (or his shitty music taste, but that's a whole other blog post!).
I deemed them to be holding us back from becoming something more and I decided that they were starting to make me doubt myself.

And after all was said and done, I went about my life 'out there' quite happily.
It was just a few days ago that I had a bit of a moment where I stopped, and though I didnt doubt then (nor do I now) that I had done the right thing in that particular relationship, I wondered who I am to decide who's particular wounds too gruesome?
It's entirely possible that the reason I seem to only be attracted to wounded men is because they're ALL wounded.
And so are us women.
Christ knows I certainly am.

I have 1001 marks covering my soul, and they are so deep that I could probably still give you the exact time, date and location that they were inflicted.
Some of them, to be honest, are probably even self harm. 
And the majority of them are just entry wounds, the bullet is still firmly lodged, no exit to match.
They've all come together to form a wholly wounded, but stronger person, and the idea that my past hurts and the way that I deal with them might be a deal breaker for someone else is entirely frightening.

I think next time, instead of bailing on a guy at the first sight of burden, I might try the Nightingale approach and try to nurse a few of these wounds back to health.

We all just want someone who likes us for us.
Wounds and all.

2010: A Lyrical Review

Those of you who have read my blog for some time know I have one main passion.
Music.
So since everyone has started doing their yearly review posts, and since I'm not sure how many more chances I'm going to have to write before 2011 is here (I'll try but it's hectic around here!), I thought I'd put my own spin on it.

2010 was a big year for me. Big is an understatement.
I'm fairly sure when I look back on my life, this will be one of the years that defines me.
I learned more about myself this year than I had in the 25.5 preceeding it.
But there was always a song or a lyric that I could take solace in or relate to, through everything.
I know it's cliche'd but that's why Penny Lane says "And if you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit all your friends" in Almost Famous.
Music reminds you that there is always someone who gets you.
Really gets you.
Always.

Every year I set myself a song.
My theme for the year.
It's a song that I go back to through the year. And you can always tell where I was at emotionally and mentally when January rolled around by the song that I choose.
For 2010, it wasn't an extremely genius or epic song by any means, but it was the right fit:
"Calm down, deep breaths
And get yourself dressed instead of running around
And pulling all your threads and breaking yourself up
If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm then brace it
If it's a broken heart then face it
And hold your own, know your name
And go your own way
And everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine."
Jason Mraz - Details in the Fabric.

It turned out to probably be far more apt that I had anticipated.

In 2010, I fought my body. And I won.
"Though I may be relatively young,
I hope in the final moments I hear every song I've ever sung. At once."
Washington - Underground.

You have all read about my kidneys, you have all read about my treatment.
I found this song after I already knew I was healthy and going to be OK.
But when I heard it - niagara falls frankie angel.
(If you get that reference, please comment and tell me! I often fear that my brother and I are the only people in the world who know what we're on about.)
I listened to it probably 40-50 times over the course of three days and it helped to heal me.
Not in the way that all of my treatment healed me, but it helped me deal with what I had just been through.
I hadn't really thought about mortality through everything, it's strange that way.
All I thought about was that I had to get better.
This song made me realise the enormity of it all and made me so grateful for being back on track.

In 2010, I broke up with my best friend.
"After all that we've been through, I know we're cool."
Gwen Stefani - Cool.

I tried to find a lyric for this that wouldnt hurt my cred so much
(do I have cred? I dont know. It just sounded cool in my head.)
Fact is, I could give you 101 other lyrics, but none of them sum it up like this little one does.
Jesper and I were talking on the phone last night - we were discussing a random handful of topics, as we usually do, Wikileaks, Gene Simmons vs Whitlams, mixed game show phrases, catching up for dinner this week, and I realised we still fit. We are still best friends.
Sure, he still frustrates the hell out of me at times, and I know it's vice versa, but I'm not sure we will ever not be part of each others lives.
We probably could have parted ways a couple of years ago, as a few of you know, but we wouldn't have had what we have now, we would have properly parted ways completely and not stayed friends.
I'm proud of what Jesper and I acheived this year. 
And I'm proud of reaching 'grown up' status through that.

In 2010, I went through a very low, depressed stage.
"You said I am as constant as a northern star.
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness, where's that at? If you want me I'll be in the bar."
Joni Mitchell - A Case of You.

Most people don't know it, but I guess when you're depressed you become a great actress.
From April until about July, whenever I was alone, I was crying.
Sometimes when I wasn't alone, I was crying.
I was crying in the shower, on the couch, in bed, in the bathroom at work, even once on the train.
I didn't want to be around people, but I didn't want to be alone, and it was only when I got sick that I snapped out of it. 
It forced me to prioritise and find perspective, and cope.
This might sound ridiculous to mostly everyone who reads this, but being as sick as I was probably saved me.
I don't want to go into it in too much detail, but that lyric pretty much says it all.

In 2010, I realised my blessings.
"I may not always love you, but as long as there are stars above you...
God only knows what I'd be without you"
Beach Boys - God Only Knows.

You know how people always say that when you are going through the hardest times, it separates your real friends from the rest?
Well this year my friends were separated from no-one.
I had, and continue to have, the most amazing support from everyone around me.
Family, friends, aquanitances, everyone. 
I had the right people around at the right time and everyone helped me to make sense of what was going on.
They helped me to get out of bed in the morning, helped me to get rid of the tears, helped me to deal with life and helped me to move the fuck on, which was exactly what I needed sometimes.
Some of you reading this were among that group.
You may know who you are, but you probably don't know how much I appreciate it.
Hell, you might not even know you did anything at all.
But thank you.

In 2010, I did a LOT of soul searching.
"I have to strengthen up my little heart, find my own way, light my torch and sparkle my own spark."
Sally Seltmann - On The Borderline.

I realised I'm not so bad. I'd be friends with me.
I can't even stress how long it's taken to reach that point, somewhere in the vicinity of 26 years, and I can't say I've completely figured it out.
There are still days I avoid looking in the mirror in case I see something I don't like, days I avoid talking to anyone if I can help it in case I say something I'm going to over analyse later on, days when I just decided I'm not cool/pretty/funny/talented/'insert nice adjective here' enough.
But the bulk of them I'm ok with me. I'm a good person and a loving person, and all of the other loving and caring people in my life are testament to that.
That's enough for me right now.

In 2010, I met some sweet people.
""I know what's on your mind, there will be time for that too, if you hang with me."
Robyn - Hang with Me.

I started dating again, and that was a BIG step.
I met Jesper when I was 20, so I've never really been a single adult.
I've been seeing one guy for a little over a month now.
We've still got our training wheels on and I don't know if it will be anything, but he is sweet and even if it's nothing, it has been good for me to step outside of my comfort zone, with my heart planted firmly in my throat, and discover myself in a completely different light.

As for 2011, my song isn't quite locked in yet.
I've got a few in mind, but there are still a few weeks to think about that. 
I do feel, however, like it's going to be a happy one, and I've got 2010 to thank for that.

xxoo
Skye

Just a Human, Being.

I was walking home one Friday night recently.
It was about 9:30 at night, and it was cold and dark.
I got to the apartment building just before mine and a gentleman jumped out from behind a tree eating a bread roll.
(I use 'jumped' probably as an exaggeration. In reality, he just sort of appeared.)
"Do you want some bread?" he asked.
I smiled politely, said "No, thank you" and kept walking.
"Are you sure?" he persisted.
I looked back.
He was wearing an old hooded jumper, with the hood over his head and ripped jeans.
I judged him and walked a little faster.
"Really, we have plenty to share" I suddenly heard a female voice call out.

It turned out that this couple are given crates full of bread from the local Bakers Delight when they close on a Friday night and distribute it they around the community; to churches, to the hungry and homeless and if they have some left, to a few of their friends who happen to be my neighbours.
They gave me a plastic bag full of fresh bread and french sticks and sweet buns, along with their mobile phone number and told me to call them if I ever wanted more.
They didn't ask for anything in return, not even my apartment number to make a delivery.
As I was walking away, the man said to me "There are still good people in the world you know, everyone is just putting up higher walls."

That comment messed with my head.

As a country girl I grew up trusting everyone.
Possibly a little bit too much.
Eveyone just knew everyone in my small town.
Mum often says that when I was a kid, she'd turn around to find me gone in the supermarket, and find me sitting on a bench talking to some old man I had never met, as though we were old friends.
That's how far my trust in other people extended.
But the bread man's comment made me realise that at some point that had changed.
When did I stop having faith in others?
And when did I stop just being and doing for the joy of being and doing.

After a bit of soul searching, I realised that it wasnt when my heart got broken for the first time, it wasn't because of any particular news story I head read, drug addict or homeless person I had witnessed, nor any job I had hated.
It was just because I had gotten older, lived, seen and known things that I didn't know then.
As a grown up, you have deadlines to meet, you feel like you have people to impress, you hear too many things about the unfavourable people in the world and you begin to become untrusting and you just kind of stop being that open hearted kid.

It's my personal mission right now to try and rediscoverthat side of myself.
I'm going to reopen my heart.
There is that lame old addage to love like you've never been hurt and dance like nobody is watching. I think people lost the meaning of that after seeing it printed on too many inspirational calendars and their mothers' facebook pages, but it makes complete sense.

The way I see it is, if we open our hearts and people reject it, that's their karma.
If we never open our hearts in the first place, that's ours.
Some of the most joyful and memorable moments in my life to date have been hen I just let go and let myself be myself.

I was having a conversation with a scrapbooking friend over the weekend also, and I said to her that I most like my work when I am just being creative and trying new things and playing.
No deadlines, no stress, no trying to impress anybody, no commissions - just creating.
It's a similar thing.
I sat down to create a page last night with that in mind and absolutely loved the outcome:


  
 
    For the first time in months, I am once more loving the thing that used to make me so happy.

If opening my heart and being and doing and smiling extends to my creativity, it is entirely likely it will extend to every other part of my life and I cannot wait to see where that will lead!

xxxx
Skye

Hey You!

Yes you, the poser!


There are some things that you should know...

That degree you're in the middle of, the one you're tiring of - you'll finish it.
It won't amount to a journalism career but you will apply the skills in other areas, and you will make yourself proud.

You know that boy you're holidaying with, the one you've been seeing for the past few months?
You'll fall deeply in love with him and you'll be together for years to come.
You wont marry him and have his babies like you'll hope.
You'll grow together, just not old.

You wont make it to Bible College and you wont become a youth Pastor.
In fact, give it 3 months and you won't be with the church anymore.

This time a year from now you'll have moved into an apartment in South Yarra.
You'll own a couch and a fridge and a bed and you'll have bills, like a grown up.
It will both excite you and scare you witless.

Don't get that credit card you've been thinking about.
No good can come of it.

Stop messing with your hair or you wont have any by the time you're 40.
Most people in your life love you whether it's long, short, blonde, brunette, straight, curly - whatever!
You need to learn that as well!

You are going to make some strange, and ultimately hilarious fashion choices in the next few years.
But don't worry, you'll figure it out soon enough.

Probably best to stay away from tequila.

Your health will fail you at times.
You will have to have cancer removed from your body and you will have to endure treatment to get back on track.
I wont bother trying to tell you how much it will scare you.
You can't understand it yet anyway.

There are going to be days when everything overwhelms you and it all feels too much.
But you won't give up and you'll surprise yourself with your own strength.

You'll get fined for indecent exposure.
I know you don't believe me now, but you will.
Your charm and wit and 'exquisite'-ness will save you.

Don't ever forget to use your charm and wit and exquisiteness.

You'll learn to appreciate your family even more.
You and Kane will grow to be extremely close and your relationship with your mother will be strong.

You'll have a step family soon.
Try to be nice to them.

You will continue to cry at even the slightest hint of heartbreak in movies.
That will extend to advertisements at some stage too.

One day you'll live alone.
You wont entirely enjoy it, but the first time you kill a spider for yourself will be one of the proudest.
Even if you do have to do it with hairspray.

You will travel and fall in love with people, cultures, food, life.
You'll drink beer in Laos with friends from every continent on the earth (besides Antarctica).
And you will be a better person for it.

One day, a rich man will buy you Tiffany jewelery, just like you've always dreamed.
And you won't have a clue what to do when he does.

You know how you're adamant you'll never try drugs?
You'll smoke pot a few times at parties.

You will realise that you have some of the greatest and most supportive friends in the world.
And the best part? You'll keep finding more.

You'll know joy and you'll know hurt and you'll know love and you'll know loss.
There will be days when you don't want to get out of bed and days you wish would never end.

You'll be alright.
You won't remember it each time, but I promise you, you will be.

You'll live Johnson, and you'll live well.
Enjoy it.

(Thanks to everyone who is doing these at the moment and inspired mine! Ali & Katie & Elise Blaha!)

Singularity.

I'm not sure who actually reads my blog.
Like, really reads it, not just looks at the pretty pictures.
But this post isnt going to have any pictures.

I've been thinking a lot lately about love and relationships.
Actually it's something that I always think a lot about, but even more just recently.

Most of you know that I am recently single.
After 5 and a half years in a (mostly) extremely happy relationship, Jesper and I decided to break up.
That was in April and since I haven't really stopped & thought too much about it.
From the minute it was over I've had weekends away and birthday partied and people around and places to go and generally enough things to do to keep myself busy and not let myself think about it.
And even now, I probably still do.
I dont know if it's all the time I've been spending sitting, thinking in hospital waiting rooms, or the intense relationship talk with the girls over the weekend, or just a case of me being a little bit sooky at the moment, but over the last couple of weeks I've had time to think about it, and I've decided that it sucks.

I'm not good at being single, and that bothers me.
It partially bothers me because I didn't expect that to be the case.
I've worked really hard to become what I deem to be a strong and independent woman, so the fact that I feel like something is missing just because I'm single feels a little bit like a slap in the face from a different, weaker, version of myself.

But it mostly bothers me just because I simply don't like the way it feels.
I don't like waking up in a big empty bed in the morning, I don't like cooking for one and I don't like feeling like I have to be go go go all the time just to fill in time so I don't stop & think too much about it.

A few months ago, I got an email from a friend, discussing his own situation that said the following:
"I'm of the opinion that some people are happy being single, some aren't. I don't think there's a rule that says I have to like being single, that I have to be happy about it".
At the time I was still in a relationship, but it still struck a chord with me.
 I agree with it wholeheartedly.

I'm better at being in a relationship than I am at being single.
I know that if there is one thing I am good at, it's being a girlfriend.
Actually I'm good at loving, as a general rule.
I don't take to people very quickly or easily or often, but when you do fall under my radar as being someone worthy of my love, then you're going to be loved fully and you're going to be loved well.
And that goes for family and friends just as much as it does for romance.
I love attentively and wholeheartedly and passionately and strongly.

I'm worse that a hopeless romantic.
I'm a hopeful one.
I'm one of those people that still beleives in the bohemian ideal of love; in that all consuming feeling, in the magic and the fairy tales and the type of love that exists in movies that have John Cusack in  lead (he's much more real and loveable that Hugh Grant, dont you think?).
I beleive in all of these things even with the knowledge that they are, on a whole, unrealistic.
I still hold out hope that if you love someone or want something enough, the universe has a way of giving it to you.
But in the same respect, I do realise that you can want someone or something to happen so much that you feel like your heart is going to leap out of your chest and you have to remind yourself to breathe, but it still won't necessarily be so.
That you can't make things happen just by wanting them to.

Maybe being single just takes practice?
I dont know.
I've tried being jaded about it, and it just didn't work for me.
I like my childlike optimism and I like being hopeful, even if it does get hard to keep it up sometimes.
Maybe this is part of that path to being strong and independent that I continually try to push myself down.
Maybe it's just a lesson that I need to learn.
But for just now, I still think that, maybe just a little bit, it sucks.

(Sorry to bombard you with my rambling!)
xxoo