Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Diary extract No 30


Feeling tremendously lost. Tired of moving, of living out each other's pockets. Strange, because when I was small it was the only thing I lived for. I loved adventure and exploring, but now I want my own little Wendy house. A place to call my own because I've had a hundred places, but none of them were ever mine. Remembering the day I ran into myself etched on the pavement. Remembering how much joy tiny things like that can give. Like a letter from a dear friend I've never met. A letter that was written and put together with, maybe, a bit of fondness. The sort of fondness that seeps through the envelope and whittles its way past my little heart.

Not ready to go back to university. I am ready for the books, for the early morning lectures, for the blue of nitrile gloves against my pale skin. But I am not ready for the people, you see. Not ready for their smiles or their kisses against my cheeks. Not ready to blush or stutter my way through their welcome-backs or we've-missed-you-so-muches. Not ready for new flatmates and their nice-to-meet-yous and four different people in one space, like clashing spices thrown into the mixing pot and hoping for the best. Not ready to explain over and over that, no, I'm not mad, these are just things I have to do. Because no one understands, not really. 

P.S. Maybe I've lost my way wading through the teardrops. Like a ship on a stormy sea and the captain's gone missing. And, perhaps this is all a bit maudlin, but thank you all for your tiny bits of fondness.

8 comments:

Unknown said...

So sad, so dark, but so heartbreakingly lovely too, dear. I feel your pain!

Anonymous said...

!
oh, Elly. Have no words. Yes, a thousand times yes.

Grace said...

I too have no words, so I will say only how very lovely and melancholy this is, (and I do like the pictures)

Anonymous said...

you cannot possibly be more awkward or lonely than i was at university. but there is one method that makes everything somehow bearable: Pretending.

all my love, deer sweet elly, x

kinnery said...

My dear, I hope you will settle while you can. I've found myself a wanderer for so long, I wouldn't know how to make a nest if I found the spot to do so.

I am a ghost on my own campus, and therefore do not have to dread too many awkward conversations. My greatest fear right now is coming to terms with my own inadequacy; what if I find myself unable to keep up, unable to produce work? What if I'm just not intelligent enough?

But forgive me for pouring my own thoughts onto you.

This was beautifully written, dear, and the photographs are too beautiful for me to bear. I can't wait to hear your next thoughts.

Grace & peace,
Kinnery

Rachel said...

Fondness? No, no, my dear. Love. Buckets & buckets of it. That's what's been seeping out of the envelope all this time.
<3

Lauree said...

x

Anjelica said...

oh Elly, Hope you're well dear.

p.s I'm so so so terribly sorry about my lateness with your letter, I feel awful. It's coming, I promise!

oceans of love Anjelica xxx

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like talking to trees, your whispers hidden in the wind. only sometimes the trees talk back. like wishing on a star and having the star wish on you. say what you like; there's always someone listening.
a very merry thank you.