I've always been someone who cherishes the feeling of coming home. Somewhere familiar, after having been away for a long time. It's something that I find essentially irreplaceable, though I can't really tell you why.
I also can't really explain what home is for me. A place; a state of mind; a person. For a while I felt like a person was home, because I felt safe when I was with them... But I grew out of that. People can't be relied upon in that way because they're just too unreliable. You expect one thing from them then they suddenly piss off and do another. The only person you can rely on for stability is yourself because you get as much as you give, essentially. If you want to mix things up and change things then you just do. It's not difficult. It's difficult to want someone to be around when they're not.
I think that might be part of the reason why I'm missing home at the moment. I just booked my ticket home and I can't wait. To see my family, mostly. It's going to be strange though, because my brother's moved out now. That'll be strange because when my parents split he was the person I spent most of my time with and, in some ways, depended upon the most. We've always been close even though I've never told him everything; I've always been able to tell him the most significant parts, the parts that I need him to listen to most. I like to think it's a reciprocal understanding. But now he's done that growing up thing, and is living in London, doing whatever he does.
Anyway. When I've been at home, as in Brighton, I've never felt much of an attachment to it unless I particularly wanted to be there. I can remember one time when I felt down, lying on the carpet at the bottom of the stairs to my room and smiling. I was home; it was exactly where I wanted to be. I think that was because it was a sanctuary. No one in home was going to hurt me, like people outside of it could. That could be why I don't feel particularly attached to my flat in Aberystwyth most of the time; I know full well that the people here may hurt me and do use me. Example? Well, Josh. I let him use my stuff and he does fuck all in return. I'm pretty sure he has my pillows too; I came here with three, I now have one. They're just not in his room so he assumes that it's not him. That's like with the washing up: we had two cupboards filled with dirty crockery that he denied was his because he, when making the mess, had used other people's crockery.
It pisses me off how people are physically incapable of owning up to having got something wrong and taking responsibility for their actions. Dicks.
As you may be able to tell, I'm not in a good mood today. It didn't start well, then I decided to chill out and soon enough get some revision done, and now it's just not really happening.
I wanna go home. Or at least talk to my dad. I was meant to last Wednesday, when I went out for a saucepan and accidentally got terribly drunk instead, but there we go.
I think one of the things I miss about home is lying on the sofa watching shitty CSI with my Dad, talking about everything.
I don't particularly want to be alone today, if I'm honest... but there's only so much you can do.
Oh I hate emo posts! Good side: train tickets are booked and I'm out of here at 9:30am on Monday 28th May.
I can then see my Dad, then my Mum, then my friends, and then I can go to Ireland (SO excited), then Spain, then Norway to see my Viking face, then back home again for my cousin's wedding before Benalmadena with the girls from home (assuming that actually happens). Though that one is a bit annoying - I said "can we not go to Spain because I'm spending ages there anyway" - so we're going to Spain, really near where I'm going for most of August. Fail, much.
Then it'll be back to Aber with a fresh face and new level of excitement for life. That's the theory anyway!
When I'm back in Aber, the aim will be to get out and make as many friends OFF my course as I can, because honestly, too much time with the same people isn't good; and really doesn't suit me. Especially when the easiest alternative for them is my flat, who are both irritating and flirtatious. So there we go. Even more exciting: next year I won't be living in squalor and disgusting conditions! It'll just be Becca and me.
I'm still considering a horse for next year. Two people have suggested loaning one together; with one of them it would mean no early mornings, and the other would mean half as many as usual. Which is good. I would probably need a car though, which is less good....
Anyway, having cheered myself up; revision time. Yay!
Big love. xo