Message to my secret admirer

I expected your identity would not still be a secret.
It has been nearly three months since the beautiful flowers arrived on my doorstop.
My mum called me dying to open the accompanying card and find out who was responsible.
When I saw the little pot of tiny white roses my heart skipped a beat.
At first I thought they were from my grandmother (the only person ever to have sent me flowers before) but the card put that thought out of my mind.
The handwriting was disguised and the message was in simple block capitals
'HAPPY BIRTHDAY. LOVE FROM AN ADMIRER. X'
My name on the envelope held no clue either. Only that the person called me Kat, and that they knew where I lived.
If you are reading this my oh so secretive friend, I have no hope to guess who you are. I have wracked and wracked my brain and still your identity evades me. If you still wish to keep your secrecy, know that you made my year.
 Never have I been so delighted and complemented.
And should I never get to say so in person, thank-you for the most thoughtful birthday gift I have received... probably ever.

Beautiful but boring

Being a literature student I think a lot about the combination of aesthetic and intrigue. Just as the words in poetry or the short story are most beautiful when their meaning is expressive so too are many things in life. Form without substance is the most disappointing thing we can encounter in life.
Art has this same problem for me, so often someone can paint, or draw, or make something beautiful, but if it doesn't intrigue, seduce or make you feel something, the beauty is rendered worthless.
What got me thinking about this was a chat I had with a friend of mine. He was out for the night and when I asked him how it went the next day he said he shifted a gorgeous girl but said she was excruciatingly boring. It reminded me of similar problems I've had in my own love life. I am not a picky person, I'm very easy going but the top thing that attracts me is interesting people. I just am not attracted unless a person has a bit of personality. I went on two dates with a really fantastic guy a while back. He was gorgeous, funny, chatty, interested in film and he could drive. My best friend thought he was the perfect man. I felt zero spark. He just wasn't...interesting enough for me.
While my taste in men thus far has been boys with long eyelashes who look vaguely unemployable the other common denominator is that they have each been odd in their own way. Even the ones who looked more or less normal! I think oddness is the spice of life and I'd rather spend time with someone who's a little bit different than a model any day!
Beautiful but boring may appeal in the mainstream media but I think in art and in people substance is essential. I'm pretty open with my oddness, but not everyone can wear it on their sleeve. I think the only thing more exciting than meeting a really good-looking person is when you discover they're also weird as hell! You can be as tall dark and handsome as you like but unless you secretly read comics, or obsess over performance art, or knit or dance like an electrocuted fish then where's the fun in that?

She's the girl

She's the girl you used to laugh with, until her happiness made you feel inadequate. She's the girl you used to talk boys with, 'til you couldn't bear to hear her talk about a certain boy. She's the girl you used to dance around with, 'til you started to think she was much more fun than you. She's the girl you used to tell her how amazing she looked, until he thought she looked better than you. She's the girl you loved to be around, until being around her reminded you of him. She's the girl who was your best friend while she was one of his, and now she's the girl who was more than you. Now all the things you like best about her remind her of all the reasons he would like her better, and that's one more thing that can never be the same again.

A lucky find

Sometimes it's surprising what can help you heal. Comfort can come from the most unlikely of places. Recently, I've been having a rough spell and I haven't wanted to log on here for fear of giving too much of myself away. There are some things I don't want people to see me as, and depression is not an outfit I wear well.
Luckily, I sought comfort in the right place, a friend not only cuddled me, and let me pick the movies, and let me eat what I wanted without judging glances. A friend who cooked me a meal I wouldn't be allergic to, even though it took him forever to find ingredients that wouldn't bother my stomach. A friend who told me I was beautiful with no ulterior motive, let me talk about my ex like it was ok to still be sad over it, who reminded me what friendship was and through his made me realise just how many people like that I had in my life.Sometimes you forget what it's like to have someone who'll drive you home even when they're tired, or who'll sit through a programme they hate because they know it might make you smile, someone who will reply to your messages straight away because they know it makes you nervous when people don't. This is someone who made me take a compliment because I was forced to admit that he would never lie to me. It is rare to find someone who will never lie, best friends don't always tell the whole truth because we love each other and there are some things you should never say because you know they cannot be forgotten. It is rare to have a friend who is not jealous of some part of you or of whom you are not jealous, so I was lucky to have this person in my life.
I realise much of this blog has become increasingly sappy but I feel some people are due a tribute, others an explanation, and some are just people I need to process in my mind. It's easier to say it to the blank white page than to a smiling face that will never realise how much it has meant to you. Because there are some times when I love you simply doesn't tell the person what you mean.

Love is difficult

Loving someone can be difficult, it can challenge you, it can change you, but the hardest thing in the world is to stop loving someone. To stop seeing their little flaws and flukes and finding them sweet, to stop wanting them to be happy, to stop feeling warm when they smile, to stop wanting to know how their day has been, to stop talking to them every day, and feeling like sharing your every silly thought with them. It is hard to forget the sound they make when they sip their tea, the way their eyes look when they laugh, the way they kiss, the feeling of being safe in their arms. It is hard to ignore the ghostly remembrance of their fingertips on your cheek or their hand in yours. You can remember how they walk, how their joints click, the sound their hair makes when they scratch their head. It is hard not to remember tiny things like and eyelash on a cheek or a missed button, an unruly curl or a tattered shirt sleeve or a hole in the toe of their sock. It is hard not to remember a thousand afternoons of silly baby talk or bad TV, evenings walking the dog, times you cried, times you laughed, times you caught your breath, times when they rescued you from a spider, times when you got caught in the rain or went ice-skating or bowling or danced. It’s hard not to want to fix everything for them, it’s hard not to want to guide them, it’s hard not to tell them your opinion.

 It is hard not to think of all these things in the split second your eyes meet, before you look away from one another, ashamed because things will never be the same, and not allowed to be sad about it. 

I forget

I gave you all my favourite parts of me and when you took them and appreciated me I felt ok. You slowly discovered all my least favourite parts of me, and told me you loved them, and I started to feel like maybe I wasn’t so awful, like maybe, to someone, to you, I did not have a hideous side, only a side I was afraid of. And I felt whole, and better.

The problem was when you left; you took with you the ability to see the good in all these parts of me. Without you I forgot I didn’t need to fear food, or that it was ok to be sad, and that crying didn’t make me weak, that even in my pyjamas, or when I hadn’t shaved my legs, I could still be lovely. When you stopped speaking to me, I went back to thinking I was sad, and annoying, and boring. When we stopped hanging out I forgot how to be the life of the party, how to laugh unselfconsciously, that I could still be fun.

When you found someone new I remembered the fat on my stomach, and my mismatched eyes, and my frizzy hair. I remembered how sometimes I can’t bear to be around people because I’m anxious, I remembered how I was afraid to show my body, I remembered how I was no fun because I won’t drink, or smoke, and I felt again like the girl that no one has ever wanted to be.

When you changed, I felt like the same idiot who’d fallen for the sweet words of a dozen boys, only this time it was worse, because I’d known it was real, and now it felt like everything I knew was wrong. You took away all the good of you, and you took the best of me,

And I couldn’t even be sad and miss you, because you weren’t mine anymore to care about, to miss, to love. And that hurt more than all the sadness for my own self.

 Because the only thing I couldn’t forget was you.

It's amazing the stuff that makes you smile and suddenly feel like life is this wonderful thing. Realising your mum bought milk while you were out, someone boiling the kettle for you, the person who opens the door, or lends you that extra 10cent you needed for the bus. The friend who gives you half their cookie or drags you out for a coffee when they know you've been having a rough day. The ones who remember to let you know if they're coming to the party, the ones who stick to the dress code, the ones who help clear up, the ones who get you some silly inside joke present. Sometimes its as simple as someone saying thank-you.
I am full of all the love in the world today because for the first time in a really long time I feel like I am appreciated-like my friends not just care about me but are genuinely glad to know me, that my family are proud of me, that my work is being recognised and that I am feeling more confident in myself to go pursue my ambitions. Life is truly spectacular in the very simplest of ways. When you are happy, everything feels better, food tastes better, views are more beautiful, time passes more easily.  Even the people you dislike and the things that would ordinarily make you miserable is just a blip on your radar.