Tuesday 20th September

So I’m back, the months of waiting are finally over, all I have to think about is that stupid hand drawn calendar, crossing of the days until my freedom, to laugh. Just standing on the doorstep of my home for the next 10 months made me smile; when I actually think about last year and how my life changed I feel overwhelmed. But as I said I am back and currently sitting in my musky smelling student room, waiting for my fellow reprobates to finish getting ready.

It will be interesting to see if any of them have had the urge to reinvent themselves over the summer… I always used to get this urge before returning to high school, I felt that there was something wrong with me that would wash away over the summer ready for me to start the new School year renewed. But inevitably on the first day of school I would walk through the door of my form room and deflate, the typical self-deprecating thoughts would re-emerge, and I would remember: like it would even be possible to change in a place where you have always lived with the same friends and family, who still call you that sickeningly childish name, which was acceptable until you turned thirteen and realised how much grief you could receive for it.

I am determined to enjoy every moment I am away from my home this year and be as memorable as possible. Never mind becoming a different person, I admit I saw the opportunity to reinvent myself last year and grabbed it with both hands, the feeling of freedom and lack of restraint was immense and I vow to never go back, the adrenalin rush is seriously too addictive.

Jayne of course was the first one back, book shelf already stacked and the course list already read; the girl’s commitment to the studying side of University life scares and shames me. Whilst waiting for the other’s to arrive we watched some soaps and caught up on what we had been up to over the summer. I tried to make mine sound exciting rather than the complete nightmarish haze that I wanted to forget; filled with 40 hour weeks and a parental lock syndrome in place. Jayne having the privileged life style she did seemed to have had a most enjoyable summer in Cannes with the rents. That is if your fun included visiting art galleries and quaint little towns with your parents and commenting on how everything was ‘just lovely’, I take the piss, but it secretly sounded amazing!

In the middle of Jayne describing, what seemed like a very contemporary exhibition involving inappropriate objects at Galerie de Cannes, Kate burst in. Every time I see her after long absences, I am sharply reminded of her exuberant personality and constant supply of energy. After settling down she filled us in on her two week holiday to the Costa Del Sol, according to her ‘a holiday isn’t a holiday without a romance and Pablo ticked all the right boxes’. Seriously, it is impossible to forget how insatiable this girl is. It is evident that she is reluctant to admit that she is still in touch with him, in an attempt to avoid myself and Jayne adopting the cock-blocking syndrome most friends inhabit when they hear the worrying signs of mind games and general male bullshit.

If it had been any other time I would have interrupted and said ‘Kate, please tell me you realise he is currently grooming his next holiday victim’ and ‘the swooning inducing dialogue has been developed over many summer holiday seasons, why can you not see through this!’, but it was the start of our second year and seriously, what harm could a holiday romance do? I realise this all sounds very harsh, and I should probably give him a chance but after hearing her parrot lines such as ‘your ex must have been a complete idiot to let you go’, ‘we just seem to click’ and my favourite ‘I have never felt this way before’, my mind was already made up and Paulo was marked as a grade A Muppet.

Wednesday 21st September

WHY… this seems to be the only word I can utter this morning, it is definitely relevant when considering the events of last night, fate can be such a bitch at times. Never mind the fact that I feel like I have been run over by a steam roller and punched in both eyes by Mike Tyson. Note to self - drinking triple vodka red bulls, will make a hypochondriac think they are having a heart attack.

Through my drink fuelled, and now hung over, haze I can remember deciding that we deserved a night out and as it was Wednesday where better to go than ____. The drinks were flowing, the music was pumping and there was some decent talent to scout. Despite the odd twisted ankle all was well with the world, until I heard the most unwelcome voice that had ever been invented by the almighty.
‘Lizzie’ was uttered by the boy whose name we must not utter, but to avoid being all Lord Voldermort about it lets just call him A. I found myself frozen in the middle of the dance floor thinking: is it seriously acceptable for him to approach me after a summer of ignored phone calls and texts? And as if he would be in the same club on the first night I venture out in my glorious return to my favourite city!

To cut the story short I didn’t hang round to find out what he wanted to say, but I can pretty much presume that it would be something along the lines of he misses me and thinks I look good; translation I forgot how well you scrubbed up and I need sex, answer = FUCK OFF. Safe to say I grabbed the girls and we moved on to less infected watering holes.

So here I am sitting here being philosophical, with an overwhelming feeling of emotional exhaustion. It’s been six months since things ended between me and A_ and I can’t help wondering… does thinking about what you think you feel make you think you feel more than you actually feel for someone? Confusing I know, I am positive that once someone leaves you build them up in your head to be something amazing and when you meet them again you just become disappointed; because it turns out that: no they are not the knight in shining armour you have imagined, who will rescue you from single life one day when you’re ready to depart its constant game playing and luscious freedom; they are not the person who will eventually see through all the walls of bullshit and see the real you and realise yes you are enough, you are the one for me, and you are fucking amazing… Does a man like this even exist? Because if he does I haven’t met him yet and I have kissed many, many bastard frogs!!

As I dragged myself to the living room / wall of kitchen, which is just rank can I say, to wallow in self-pity, both sofas are taken up by the culprits’ of my current state leaving me with the mouldy chair. I really had no energy to argue so I just grunted at them and collapsed in to the musky threadbare excuse for a chair that countless students have occupied; I shudder to think what the chair might contain. As it turns out it was 4 pm, which is quite shocking considering the hours I kept over the summer, but then again I am back to student life and don’t have my mother to witness my sloth like behaviour so fuck it. Time passed like it does with any hangover where it loses any sense of meaning, and the day was lost to crap DVDs I have seen a thousand times over and some seriously amazing grease food courtesy of Todd who had finally returned from his summer of god knows what to see us in our rough glory and immediately make a fast food run.

On his return I had no option but to relive the night before through the recollection of my friends. Despite my reluctance this is definitely a necessity, you have a limited time the day following the night before to laugh off cringy actions, otherwise you will end up alone in a darkened room repeating the cringy moment over and over until it becomes unbearable and the tears threaten.

‘What the fuck have you three hags been up to without me?’ Todd so eloquently asked ‘I am only late back by one evening and already you look like you have been dragged through a hedge backwards… dam you I’m jealous, anything juicy to report?’

Kate: ‘Well, if I can remember rightly there was a very lush Spanish looking boy at one of the bars, but he was nothing compared to my Paulo’ dramatic sigh (seriously this girl has issues)
Todd: ‘And who would Paulo be?’
Jayne: ‘Forget Paulo and Kate’s fan club, you would much more interested in hearing that A_ made an appearance last night.’
At this point I uttered a much deserved groan of self-pity and bury my face in a pillow. I have a hideous flash back of playing the ‘I’m ignoring you’ card and instead of walking out of the club in dignity I managed to trip over and land flat on my face, on a positive note I got man handled by the fit bouncer as he picked me up and showed me the rest of the way out.

The problem with me is that I forget where I am sometimes and totally loose myself in my thoughts, so it was no surprise for me to return to the world of reality and note all my friends staring at me in anticipation.
‘What?!’
‘Well… what happened?’ said Todd
‘Not much to report really he came, we left, the end’

The conversation that followed was the general slaging session reporting him to be: the biggest bastard on the planet, who should be sectioned, as he must have been mental if he thought he was allowed to speak to you ever again, never mind look at you. You have to love your friends, especially after a breakup.