My blog is set to private thanks to my nosey/stalkery family anyway.
I went home last weekend after having spent 3 weeks in a completely different country. I was excited. Friday is my longest day at uni and all I could think about all day was rushing back to my flat to get my stuff to get my train. I love home. I don't understand how you can spend 18 years somewhere and not grow somewhat attached to it. Everyone's so excited to get away from it and have a fresh start and whatever, but I don't get that. The friends that I've known and loved for quite some time now have all gone off to uni and I've barely heard from any of them. I suppose I must be pretty disposable.
And so, to go home to the one person I knew would be feeling similar things to me was ridiculously comforting. I've had best friends in the past and it's never a term I throw around lightly, but oh my is she the best of the best. I was looking forward to seeing my family and the other 3 people that I love and miss constantly, but there was definite concerns with how the reunion with one of them was going to go. I didn't have any worries about this though. She is my sanctuary and it makes me very happy to know that seeing her would be like putting on a comfy old coat. Nobody here could ever compare to that.
The reunion I was worried about? Yeah...weird. It was all confusion and racing hearts and staying up far too late. And this summer was just too good. And I wish I had the backbone to tell him that some things are worth the fight and that missing him is awful but I wouldn't trade it.
I don't know. The wrong person is telling me he misses me and the right person is barely speaking to me. I'm being selfish of course. There are other important things he has to worry about. But...eurgh. This is such a livejournal entry. Sorry. Definite deletion when I finally make this public again.
Kay. Going to go do happy things now.
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