Spent my first night in my new house last night with George but he had to leave just a minute ago and it really hurts. Leaving home leaves a really big hole, in my experience. I don’t know what it does to other people, everyone else always seems find but i find it so hard to adjust to something so different. No family, no friends that I’ve known for longer than a year, no familiarity. It leaves this pit in my stomach and that all I can describe it as. I get anxious in such a way that I can not speak, tears pour out of my eyes and my whole body feels empty. I wish George could live with me. After spending four months with him it feel awful leaving him. I thought it would get easier, not harder. I guess, when you’re so used to relying on another person, you start needing them in your life and you want them when they aren’t around.
I just had a call with my family and, while it made me feel better, it also made me feel a whole lot worse. Because, while they make me infinitely happy, I also miss them a ton. That is another ton to add to the weight that is currently crushing my ribs. There are a lot of people down stairs that I’m not particularly close with yet, I look and feel like a mess, I’ve still got a heap load of stuff to unpack and a load of reading to do ready for tomorrow. I wish George could just live with me forever. He makes me feel better. He makes everything feel better. He knows when I’m scared and he helps me, unless its a case of spiders then there’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll either make me feel better or try to freak me out. Usually its the first, not the latter.
I feel like my fear and panicking has been getting worse over the last month or two but I’m sure that if I was to look back in any one of my diaries I’d realise that it’s not that uncommon for me to freak out at life. Christ, even my nose is crying right now, worse bit is that my en-suit bathroom doesn’t even have any toilet paper because George and I foolishly forgot to buy some more, so if I want paper to clean myself up then I’d got to leave my bedroom and risk my new house mates seeing what kind of a miserable so-and-so they’ve let into their new home. I did get lucky with this place though. When it comes to finding you second year house, or even a first year house- it’s all about who you know. I was invited to live here because I left my housing options too late and a few acquaintances from the Harry Potter Society were looking for extra house mates. Just so happened that no one was really bothered about which room they had and no one fought be for the biggest one with en-suite so I took one for the team. I knew George was pretty chuffed about this because it meant he could walk to the bathroom in the nude. Just kidding. Or am I?
I knew that gaining an extra room meant extra responsibility but I also knew that, George wouldn’t leave me to suffer on my own. I really do wish he was able to move in with me and get a job down here. I know this is how it’s got to be for the next couple years though and there’s only going to be one more summer which will be painful as hell to let go of, like this last one, but after that *fingers crossed* we can start making big plans. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, someone to make plans with. Someone that wanted to move in with me. Someone that wanted a family with me. I mean, being a bit of a career woman is all fine and dandy with me; don’t get me wrong- I want to pay my way, get my name known, make a real nice life for myself, but I think it is true what they say: the best things in life do come free.
He better be choking up just as much as I am. I remember when I left last year. George and I had only been dating for a few weeks before I had to leave. After a week or so of talking I realised that I really liked him but I was really scared because, she kind of guy makes a three year long commitment after only dating a girl for a couple of weeks- max. Answer is: my George. We made the most of our time together, then he came to say goodbye to me on the morning that my mum took me to Penryn, Cornwall (the hell house I first lived in). He got up early so he could have enough time to see me before college. Then I had the long drive with mum, singing in the car with the sun shining over head. It was a beautiful day. Showed my mum around a little bit. She’s literally my best friend. I know that I’ve talked about her in my article on role models ‘I Look To You’, but she really does deserve all the credit. That day went so quickly and mum hates night driving so she had to leave fairly early. Didn’t even get to eat our pasties together. That was such an emotional send off. She gave me a massive hug. We both cried. Then she gave me the pasty and told me to enjoy dinner while it was still hot. I went to my room and wept like a baby. Not much has changed except it’s another hugely important figure in my life taking me back to the beach.
Still, saying goodbye to my mum was still emotional this time. I came to see her at work, just before we packed Georges car up. My uncle was there too, my uncle Rich is a lovely man and is so supportive of me. He really is one of the best and he put a massive smile on my face to see him there because it was so unexpected. I thought it would have been quiet. If the shop had been empty I know for a fact i would have cried. I’m such a baby. Normally I keep my misery inside myself but things like this can’t be swept under a carpet. Afterwards I got in the car, looked at George and just thought: ‘Well, fuck. It really is time to do it all over again.’
Saying goodbye to George last year, I was the one that kept it together. I made jokes, pulled out my phone for selfies, tried to make him smile before we had to go. This time it was George that held it together better than me and I had to pull out the video camera to try and pull myself together. may sound horrible, but I really do hope he feel as awful as I do. I mean, I do know that he feels crap. Last year was an absolute roller-coaster and quite frankly, I hate roller-coasters. I don’t step foot in theme parks and I dislike fairs. One of the many phobias that interfere in my life. Not that this one interferes much. People don’t go to theme parks often and fairs aren’t usually set up. I’ve always worried that I’d never find someone that would love me because I know that these things aren’t normal. I’ve had an ex boyfriend that tried to force me to see a doctor because I’m ‘not right’, I’ve had a boyfriend who’s father told me I had multiple spirit attachments and that I required a release in order to become better. All I head in my head at these points were: ‘You’re mental, get checked out’ and ‘I want to perform an exorcism on you‘. Finding George, a guy that doesn’t see me as a problem to be fixed, and usually sounds pretty sane to me, is a dream. He actually understands how I feel and I, in turn, get how he feels. You really are a god send.
I get this is a really long post and I’d understand if my readership for this was low as hell. Not everyone will understand how this feels. Hey, maybe one day I will pluck up the courage to actually talk about these problems out loud. I really hope so. This is something that I’d had to live with for far too long. On the plus side, my new house is lovely and I’ll probably get round to talking to my new house mates tomorrow and I feel a bit better now after unleashing all of that icky emotion out onto this post. I’d just like to thank my mum for always being there for me and George for being the best thing I’ve ever had. I love you both so much and if you’re reading this, then I guess that’s just further proof.
Thanks for reading guys, see you soon xx