96 Days To Go - ESTA

Feels weird to type only two digits in the title box. Makes this whole blog feel that tiny bit shorter. Much like my ego. It wasn't anywhere to start, then I found it and now it feels as small as the number of days left. It's been a bit of a revolutionary few days. I haven't felt totally lost without a cause, (after doing all your Easter uni work though, that feeling kinda lingers) but recently more than ever I've felt an awful amount of pressure on myself to not feel nervous or excited for what's coming up, mainly because no-one else feels that way. If you felt something completely different to everyone else, you'd be forgiven for thinking that it's wrong to feel that way. When it isn't actually. But you change it because you feel so out of place.

Until the end of Year 1 at Uni, no more excitement. I command myself to be bland and boring. Cue mild applause.

I like being home a hell of a lot. It's comforting to be in my own bed, in the security of my own house and not having to worry so much about the financial side of life. Having said that, I just bought some summer clothes. 2 pairs of jean shorts (I look like I'm wearing what 5 year olds would wear if they were freaks of nature. I look adorable), a new top and new shoes. All of this when my best friend Liam should have bought his new game. On a day where I only planned to buy a bus ticket and lunch, I ended up forking out more on clothing than health.

I'm not a stereotype by any means. But...

I also bought something else a few days ago which only became valid today, my ESTA. Essentially, you used to have to buy a Visa to enter the USA. But, because our country is popular, you can buy an ESTA from the Visa Waiver programme. It's basically a cheaper, longer lasting Visa that grants you multiple access, but the border control can still choose not to let you in. So, essentially, it's a second ticket to get it, meaning the only thing that is stopping me getting to Tulsa is the pure fact of time. And that's going to go super fast (after Easter, 5 weeks till half term, then 2 weeks after half term it's summer) that excites me. Which is why those first 5 weeks back at Uni are going to be super intense.

Watch my life crumble around me. WATCH IT....

111 Days To Go

Odd days come and go much like the passing weathers. There are those days you are as high as life may take you and there are those days where the slightest discrepancy makes the day redundant. More and more, I seem to be suffering the latter and less of the former. I'm think it's probably to do with 'end-of-term syndrome', where I'm too looking forward to going back to home that I'm down that I'm not there yet. The real problem it presents is that, with under 16 weeks to go, it's taking a toll on me and Steven. I find myself progressively looking towards him as a source of happiness, which he only now sees to be the key to cheering me up, not stabilising fun and flirtation. I guess I'm still reeling from just how bad last week was and just how low it set me.

I seem to prove, at every turn, every doubt anyone ever had over me.

In the same vein of judgement, a thought arose. Year 2 at Uni is coming up and, far be it from me to be worried about things (when has that ever happened before?!), re-elections are coming up. I asked for a chance and they, very kindly, gave me my chance. Re-election means: did you screw up your chance? How the mighty might rise and fall. Something I pride myself on is being able to relate and reach out; I've gone through it all this year. Failing assignments, deaths in the family and I never took any of it lying down and I'll be damned that come the time of judgement from peers alike, I'll give it as good as I ever have done in fulfilling a role I've prided my life on for several months.

But I'll be damned if I'm making election badges.

The minutes are getting longer, it seems. The days seem to be finding new ways to stretch patience and I've found myself counting each day falling away as a victory. It hit me last night as I lay awake at 4:30am that in 111 days time, at that very point, I'll be getting ready to leave my house and take my plane to a love that travels as fast as light itself. Just for that first moment of embrace, when I finally can touch, see, feel, hear and taste a future. We have more than 3 months left, but that countdown never increases. It will come around, I'll drag it kicking and screaming to Tulsa. For that first moment of touch where a year of waiting vanishes within the first locking of lips. Where the days of arguments and tension disappear along with the fear and are replaced with euphoria and the sense of relief.

That, in Tulsa, I see my life. And, for the first time, I love every moment.

121 Days To Go

A thought came across me today. I'm back in Worcester after spending the most wonderful few days at home and I'm feeling very very low. Why am I feeling low? Because for how little I spoke to my BF this weekend, it'll be even less this week. Why did I let this get to me? Because I discovered something. We all know that bullying comes in all forms: physical, verbal etc. Have you ever considered 'silence' bullying? I can see why not speaking up can be seen as bullying. Do you know the first thing I did when I got home? I threw my hands round my mum, holding back tears because, for the first time since joining university, I was bullied. Bullied by silence.

It takes balls to take responsibility. Seems like I've got a massive pair compared to you.

It occurs to me that I have 6 'official' followers. Those who have an account and wish to follow this blog! To those of you, hello! To those who follow but haven't joined, hello to you too! It fills me with such joy when people have come to me and spoken of their joy for reading this blog (despite it being sometimes more depressing than brown bread). If I get just one person to understand how I feel, I've explained myself well and it makes this all worth it. I'm not all about reader statistics, I'm just blown over by how many people have cared enough to look. In such a time of feeling alone, I feel heartened to have such nice things to reflect upon when writing this.

Officially on record: thanks for listening! :)

I'll be honest, I'm scared. I'm scared of a lot of things. I find myself with 3 weeks of Uni till the Easter break which, if I'm right, isn't going to be a 'stressful' run in. But after that break, full days, placement and money come straight into the picture. I'm scared that, as the year draws to a close, I'll find myself under pressure with more assignments. And I'm scared that in 121 days, whilst I have no doubt in me that I'm making the right decision, my life will change forever.

If I can louden my bullies though, I'm sure I'll be just fine.

130 Days To Go

Significantly, my first blog from home. I got home and finally got the hug I've waited for for as long as two months. My mum was waiting and we just locked up and couldn't let go. I'm not lying, I was holding back some tears. It just felt so good to be held on to and felt like someone didn't want me to leave. My parents have been nothing but golden, so supportive and welcoming. Coming home just brought back all those feelings of growing up, knowing that I'm not going to get a hug when I go back, I'm not going to have a meal waiting for me. It's just going to be me, grown up, again.

There really is no place like home. Scary to think I can't call it 'my home' anymore.

Me and my mum got chatting and catching up on everything. I showed her my school experience folder (just to prove that I wasn't lying when I said I got some 'outstanding' marks, I really didn't hit any kids) and we got caught up on all issues. And we got chatting about the trip again. You know when you try so desperately to say something to someone but it wouldn't do any good? I'd like to think and recognise I'm in a relationship. A loving and fulfilling relationship (at least at this stage, before meeting) but I don't think people see it as anything more than a friendship.

If the latter is the case, I'm a massive slut. *shows sideboob*

I've had a stunning few days. Only yesterday I found out I'd been called to attend a disciplinary hearing for Alex's 21st (not our fault but our responsibility) but that didn't get me down. Instead, I got a lot of work done and I'd like to think I'm making my boyfriend happy by being in this happy and real mood. Of course, usually seeing me happy either means someone's given me money or the ex's that hate me have validated my reasons for not liking them. When both happens within 24 hours, it makes my smile even bigger than certain people's egos!

I'm feeling a little dance coming on... but I won't embarrass myself... again...

135 Days To Go

This week has been, well, stressful. But not that stressful. It's been a week where not much has gone on, but because of that, so much has. I am home alone again for this weekend, but it'll be the last one like for a little while as I up sticks for a couple of days and happily march on home to a hug, good food and good times back in my homeland of Essex. When I went down to see Liam, it was a fantastic opportunity to relax, kick back and be in company that I, not only knew, but felt so relaxed with. I love my Worcester base, the friends I've made are priceless and my flatmates are all so welcoming. But those times when you need someone who's known you longer than you've known yourself to give you that hug and boot up the arse, you pine for home. And I'm so damn thankful to be getting it.

A grown man can cry for his mummy whenever he wants. It's where he does it that depends if he gets funny looks.

I put off doing my Art assignment lesson plan because I never felt in the right mood to work and do it. But oddly enough, doubt from unlikely sources spurred me on. Steven casually observed that I'd said I'd do it, and then every day I'd say 'I'll leave it to tomorrow', to which he'd follow up with 'we'll see'. Whilst he says it was teasing, it pissed me off no end. I know he reads these but for a very long time, I've had a lot of people expect a lot of me and when I don't deliver, I am jabbed and poked about it. Now whilst he's experienced similar, I didn't ever want him to doubt that I'm a man of my word. Which is why I sat my arse down and for an hour, I typed and typed until I completed a lesson plan.

I usually don't want my BF to be quiet. For the times, they are, a changing.

I had a very low week. I wasn't particularly happy, I wasn't cheery and I couldn't get any energy to do anything productive. It got me thinking about just how badly we treat those who want to help us. It's how (oddly enough) me and Steven bonded. I was dumped and I pushed him away because, well, I thought I could handle a break up on my own. That was stupid. But all this time, Steven has wanted to help me and show me that what I do and say sometimes are not the logical and best option. I'm a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. Whilst that isn't necessarily a bad thing, it is when it isn't moderated. We end up disregarding our sane mind in favour of what feels right to say or do. When not handled right, it can destroy the bonds it took months, even years to build. Steven has, honestly, the smartest brain I've ever seen.

Thank you Steven. Truly, I know I'm more wrong than I let on. I'm sorry. I love you.