When you're little, I love you is what you say to your parents. Or your pet. Or your toy. Love is harmless, yet craved, simple and not a priority. If you're lucky enough, you get people who love you for your very existance, no matter how many times you wake them up because of a nightmare, or scream because you fell over. They're there to look after you, and you can usually-at least, I always could- rely on parental love. Safe love.

Then you get a bit older. You find out stuff like, Babies come from when Mummy and Daddy Love each other. Love has suddenly a new aspect. Love can do other things! You experience more, see relationships, understand you can love things or people in a different way.

Older still. Teenager now. You know what love is. You know the mechanics of it, the point of it, the relationship-or lack of- and you can doubt it. You can let it tear you apart.
Love becomes a personal and real thing in teenage years. You deal with the impact love-or lack of- would have on your life. See how it changes. Have your own first relationship, first kiss, first love, first I-love-you.

I'm blogging about this because its been on my mind. I have twisted views on love. I accept it now, whereas previously I would ignore anything directed at me. I beleived in love, I've always been the poet Romantic, but at the same time, enough shit happened that I didn't beleive anyone loved me. I'm sure people remember how I accept Gods love is universal, and for all- just not me.

Now I can say 'Love you', easily to my friends. Its a common thing to say. I strived for love for so long that I want to make sure people know people care about them. I tell people why I love them all the time.

Yet I have a block within relationships.

I love everything about Ben. I love the fact he's a massive nerd. I love how he fits in with everyone I know. I love how he makes me laugh, and how he puts up with me when I'm in a bad mood. I love that I can be myself around him, whether thats with how I look or how I act. I love how when I wake up, he'll always have text me. I love talking to him. I love when he makes me call him and his mumbling makes no damn sense. I love our story of being together, and I love how we are so suited. I love that he scares me by talking about the future, and I love how happy he makes me.

Somehow I cant say 'I love you' though. Not yet.
It cant be long off though x

So I finally agreed to go out with Ben =D

And yes, I'm a massive nerd and stupidly excited about it. I'm not the biggest nerd in the world though (LOL).

I actually adore how people keep telling me I haven't been so happy. Which at the same time scares me a horrific amount, cause I've never been this vulnerable before. On the one hand, I trust him, on the other, I don't know him.

Ahh. See, I keep doing that- freaking out about it, when I dont need to.

I'm scared its too perfect.
In a good way. A good kind of scared.
Ahh :)

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I haven't felt safe in years. Not even when I should have.

I haven't allowed myself to risk anything. Risks are to be calculated, weighed up as to whether they're worth taking or not, reflective of my mood and my state of depression.

I've lived through my own sheilds.

And thats not going to change.

What is changing, is my outlook. I'm happy.

The happiness is... judged, by some, and almost rightly so. I understand people's reservations. I genuinely do. I get that they're people looking out for me. I get that I can be blinded by feelings. I get that I need someone to be that person.

DON'T, though, please, make me feel bad about it.

I like Ben.

Thereeeeeeee I said it.

When Greg asked me what he was like, I went on a bit of a rant about what I liked about him.

It could have been about five times the length.

Its all stupid stuff about how he makes me feel safe and loved and stuff.

He's okay with my insecurities. He's the only person I've been so open with as to admit everything he asks, and have NO reservations about it. He gives me girlface at 2 in the freaking morning when I listen to the answerphone message he leaves me.

He makes height jokes all the time. I spent 5 hours with him on friday and wished it could have been longer. Neither of us understood where the time went.

I really like him. I'm not stupid. Im freakin terrified. But I'm gonna see where it goes.

Dont begrudge me my happiness, even if you do want to say i told you so :)

Youu, have so much damn purpose you have no idea.

You're in my life now, I'm not letting you go. You filled the part of me that I yearned for, you're the closest friend I've ever had. I have no idea what I'd do without you.
You make me smile. You make me laugh. You make me cake to apologise. We argue about hot drinks. We argue about sweets. I make you try food. You laugh at me.
And you know what? I'm so proud of you. For the amount you try and you work. For the grades you get, for the friendships you have, for your courage, your honesty, and your loveliness. I don't care if you go to university or not. You will, of course, because you're far more clever than you think, but if you don't... So? You make your own way. Just as you have been for the last however many years.

If I can help you in any way, ask. Or hint. Or slide a note to me. I dont care. I will fight to make you happy.
Because i love you so much. I couldn't do without you. You're important to me.

You can do it :)
Cause I know you can.

I feel like I need to write this, as a disclaimer for any future issues.

And so for the people who know what's going on, this will make perfect sense, but not make them happy.
If you don't know, don't worry.

I'm not ignoring what you're saying. Honestly, I swear to you, I'm not.
Nor will I forget what you said. I'm gonna be realistic about it, not nieve, I'll keep in mind always what you told me.
I just like him.
I know theres a high liklihood I'm getting played.
I don't know whether I need to make the mistake, or that I'm enjoying it too much for it to stop so soon, but I'm gonna see where this goes. Its making me happy.
But I'm not blind, or stupid. If it starts looking bad I'll get out of it. Call it a nice time and run away.

I just damn well hope it doesn't. Its making me happy.

Ages ago, the idea of something made me happy, made me laugh, and made me smile. It was a foolish idea, one based on nothing, just for coincidence and pretty much just to keep me happy.

It turns out that idea might now come true. Well... That idea has about a 99% chance of coming true. I'm so fudging excited and happy.

I'm also terrified. This sort of stuff just doesn't happen to me. And I keep hearing things about how the idea itself is actually a horrifically bad one.

I'm scared, but I think in a good way. I don't want to rush but I'm not sure there's any other way. I'm going with it, just to see what I can do. If I get hurt, I'm gonna need help. Worried- about getting hurt.

Ahhh..... Girlface.
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Ahhhazzanopportunitytobehappy.

And I'm not sure if I'll take it or not, just incase I get hurt. Which I might.

Ahhh.

Eep :P

Slight girlface :)

Ahh its an okay day today.
One of the first in a while, and therefore I felt the need to blog to remind myself that these types of days do happen.
School-wise the day was wasted, and therefore not bad :)
Work was really good :)
Confidence boosted for a bit.
Now the only dilemma I have right now is whether to stay up to watch bad TV or not :)

Just tell me where we stand. Ignore me, laugh at me, forget I'm there when people are around?
Are you doing it on purpose? I just dont know. Thats all.

I don't know any more.

Mum asked me today, after I made a comment about how someone'd upset me today, whether all of my friends were hormonal in some weird way.

I laughed. What else can you do?

I'm begininning to think that my friends exist just to remind me of my insecurities, or put me down, or physically hurt me.

My sides are bruised. My ribs are sore. Its hilarious to jab someone isnt it? Even when they tell you it really hurts?

My body is ridiculous. I have no figure. I'm man like. Noone's gonna want someone without the right figure. So they keep telling me.

I don't understand anything. Why should I? I'm stupid and have no interest and know nothing. I don't take real subjects and I'm not good enough to get into the top university. As I've been told.

It goes on. And its brought me down to a new low. I even made cakes today, 'cause it makes me happy to make them, and to give them out. I got asked why i'd bothered to do something pointless several times, and a few comments about how they werent nice enough.
Okay, so my cake making ability might not be up to scratch. But i was trying to be nice?

I know theyre all stupid but they've brought me down.

And so when Mum asked me why people were all communally so upsetting me, I figured it had to be me.

I'm the only common denominator.

Its not me being all 'oh-everything's-wrong-with-me', because thats not my place to proclaim, but genuinely, I must be the one who makes it like this, because its to me.

I don't know if I've been replaced? Or just cut out?

I'm adopting a policy of 'Fuck off', which albiet is not the most helpful. But its the only way I think I can get out of this without getting hurt. I have some people whose friendship I've suddenly realised how much I adore. They wont do this to me. I hope.

I worked out also, that I can get into Oxbridge, whatever the crap people tell me I cant. I can. I never bothered pushing myself because I didn't want to get in.

Now I wonder if I should just isolate myself entirely. Throw myself into the work and getting the grades and just wait until I can get into the Uni of hell, and not care. Just forget the social stuff.
I don't know.

I don't even know.

I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen.

It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diptheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing could save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit becasue they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference.



Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand propping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentery which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated.



It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it, it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for those internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wantering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tatooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.



An extract from the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was amongst the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945. Source: Imperial War Museum.

Rome was amazing. There were stupid things which made me laugh, but the problem is they wont be funny to translate and I'm in a really bad mood. So I'm gonna post some pictures of it, and some things that made us laugh, but its more for me than you. Nyah :)

• Joes Face at Hard Rock when he didn't get an icecream
• "OHMYGOD, they have trains here?"
• Hooban's dancing to AAR
• Pippa's wake up
• Claire's new calender
• The Tardis in the church
• I Like it, I Like it, I like It, I like it, Alot, alot
• Claire's jealousy at the kids
• The Nun hunt
• My amazing escape from the room I shouldn't've been in
• Hiding balloons
• If I were a bird for the day...
• Jesus turning lights on and off
• The Joe's coffee
• Hamjoe on Redbull
• The fail at picking me up