Productive weekend, and it feels really good to be doing something. Copied loads of music onto my iPod (I've been meaning to do it for what seems like forever)... David Gilmour, King Crimson, The Verve, Basement Jaxx, Sheryl Crow. Updating my CV and going on a mad internet search for new jobs. I need more money for beer, to see mt friends, to be able to go out and buy shoes and clothes when i need them.
I've seen my mum 4 days in 2 weeks, a record for us surely.
She's taken me shopping and bought me loads. you know the little things that you could do with buying, but you never want to spend that spare bit of saved cash on them? Things like a multiplug adaptor, cutlery drawer organiser, face wipes.
These things I consider to be treats. Never mind the new shoes she bought me, or the fact that she's fed me all weekend.
My mum is ace. I mean it. We've had our ups and our downs but it's all sorted out now, to the point where we can go out for posh lunch and be civilised or be uncivilised walking round wilko's bitching about all the other shoppers, and it's just so lovely. She did it all for me. Moving away from my dad so I wouldn't be a child carer (because I would have been), moving to the UK so I'd get a decent education and be away from the crime rate of South Africa. Days like this are nice. She lets me come to her house, sit in the garden and eat lunch, curl up on the sofa and watch DVD's. Unlimited use of the computer (a treat now, rather than a necessity), easy silences. We don't need to say anything, we've probably said it all before.
It just... well it's a shame, that he's still here.
And it's a shame that he's over there, I could just do with feeling his arms around me right now.
I wait for the post man every morning and I'm close to tears when there's nothing from him in with all the other bills and letters from the benefits agency.
He said the nicest thing to me last night. "I'm at my happiest right now, I've just got into a comfy bed with fresh sheets on it, after getting out of a nice hot shower and now I'm talking to you. Perfect x". I want him to sweep me off my feet, but I'm still scared that when he does it won't be a good feeling. I'm scared that it'll be like crashing into a brick wall and i don't want, dont need, can't cope with any more hurt.
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