#elliethinks

Don't you hate it when people blindside you? You walk into a situation clear, focused, knowing why you're there, what you want out of it, and with a specific time frame in mind. Then BAM. You meet & greet them. They're lovely. The next thing you know, you're staying up late drinking hot chocolate and telling stories. You're having meetings in the hallway where you crave nothing but each others company. You're having breakfast together before the day begins. You retreat from the days hassles and worries and problems and complications to have lunch with them, to a place where nothing but you and they matter. You're watching them play soccer. You're going to the gym with them. You're having coffee and ice cream and tennis matches with them. You're stopping by their house halfway through your morning run. You're texting them, emailing them, Facebooking them. You have phone calls that don't end til 3 am, discussing everything from each other to toilets to religion. You're baking for them. You're creating walls of inspiration around your collective sense of humour. You're fitting them into your life, and you decide - they look well on me. Suddenly, it's as though they've been there forever - they're as much a part of you and your life as is the necessity of dressing, eating, breathing. And then, even more suddenly, in the blink of an eye, you're leaving. The uprooting of your life - your belongings, your finances, your uni degree - seem like nothing in comparison to the thought of being without them; to the thought of not seeing them everyday. Before, you knew you'd see them again in a few weeks. Now, you don't know if you'll see them next week, next month, or next year. You don't know what will happen. You might fall out of contact. Someone else might move in. Others might fall out. But as scary as you find the concept of not knowing, the fear of that is so small in comparison to the pain, the utter, gut-wrenching pain of trying to memorise every plane on their faces as you say goodbye; to the pain you feel in your chest as your heart tries to escape your ribs during a long, silent hug that is screaming all the words and feelings you can't say to each other; to the utter desolate emptiness you feel when you walk back into your near-empty room, sink down to the floor against the wardrobe and let the tears fall as you realise they are not here, and you are, and soon they will be here, and you will not. When that first moment of loneliness hits, it sucker punches you, right in the gut. They're gone. Oh, they're still there, online, on your phone, and you'll make every effort to see one another again. Maybe you'll even stay life-long friends once everyone has settled their living circumstances down. But for now, you don't know that. For now, they're not here. For now, you're leaving, and they've left, and your chances to say things, to hug and to hold, to whisper and cherish, have left with them. You're left with memories, and the pathetic attempts at holding on to those memories - very few photos, some quotes hastily scribbled on torn paper, and drawings. You never intended to get so attached - or attached at all. You never meant for people to walk in and affect your life in this way. But you have, and they did, and now, you're empty. Don't you hate it when people blindside you?

Oh, but misery loves company, about that you'll agree...and the best friend for a miserable you, is a miserable me.

What's holding you back?

My head hurts. Damn my need to oversee everything personally. It's making planning my 21st my part time job. It's cute that you think I'm kidding. I'm not. My best mate just threw her 21st & engagement combined, and cruised through the whole thing. She's not the best with making decisions, so pretty much everyone said 'how about this?' and she just had to say yes or no. It helps that she's super easy going and easy to please. At times like this - when I'm culling catering lists, making shopping list after shopping list, and making practice run cakes and cookies to get the recipes & improvements down pat, and figure out how short a time I can do them in - I wonder how two polar opposites are even friends at all. That's probably why though. I'm defs going to need to borrow some of her nonchalance over the next fortnight.

I think what I struggle with most about 'growing up' is the loss of belief. In self, in others, in the world around you…as a kid I could do anything, all you had to do was ask me, and I'd tell you. "I can do that." Didn't matter if I'd never done it before, or if it was baking a cake, or trying archery, or doing a backflip. I believed in myself, my body, my abilities. I knew that even if I couldn't do it well, I could still do it. Most of the time I'd be able to do it well, and I honestly think it was because I just knew I could. I don't have that anymore. As you grow older, the tiniest seeds of doubt start to plant themselves in you. One day you can't run quite as far without needing to catch your breath. Suddenly, your back hurts when you reach to the ground. Slowly, bit by bit, you begin to let yourself down, and you lose faith in yourself. I look at the world now and think "This is why I won't be able to…"…I used to look at the world and think "I'll be great at that". I miss that belief in myself. I used to meet new people and think they were great before I'd spoken to them. They would love me, and I them. Every relationship was the beginning of a beautiful thing. Now, everyone is an enemy until proven friend. Everyone is a threat. Everyone is mean. People push, yell, belittle, mock, are insincere and always have ulterior motives. People are untrustworthy. How is it that when you're at your most physically vulnerable, you're stronger than ever before? I know why, of course. You're young, and naive, and invincible. No one has told you "no", "you can't". But people will tell you, eventually, and no matter who you are, one day, you'll start to believe them. Often, the person telling you is yourself - and of course, you are the hardest person for you to ignore. I used to believe that the water wouldn't be unbearably cold - it'd be warm enough to swim in. The dirt stains would come out of my clothes. The funny noise the fridge is making is a simple fix. The other drivers on the road won't crash into you. The trees won't fall, the lights will stay on, the rain will come. Now, I'm not so sure. How does the world work, anyway?! Who tells all of these things to happen - who makes sure? What if they're busy today? What if the world doesn't work? The water is freezing, far too cold to bear. The fridge must be dying. The other drivers will hurt or kill me one day - everyone is in car accidents these days. The trees will succumb to the winds pressure, the lights will fail, the rain won't come in time. I don't believe that nothing will go wrong. We grow into cynical, pessimistic creatures. Sure, it's "realism". We know the world we live in, and don't try to kid ourselves otherwise. Those that do - those who are optimists, who are always friendly and believe the best in everybody - they're naive, they're young, they haven't seen much of life. We admire, envy, and thus belittle those who either naturally maintain belief, or who work to maintain it. But I wish we didn't. I wish physically trying to gain that back didn't make me feel small and worthless within society. I am a realist. I'm not so naive to think that the innocence of childhood is something that an adult can achieve, recreate, mimic, or even understand. But I'd like to have a little more belief in life. One side of my brain is scoffing at me as I write this - "oh, grow up". But if growing up means diving further into cynicism, and giving up more and more of my faith in myself and the world around me, I don't want to. I know I don't have a choice - I will age, and grow, and evolve. But I don't want to lose my belief and faith in myself and the world I live in. That, I will fight as hard as I can.