Remember how we couldn’t take a decent photo together? Remember how we weren’t talking to each other and you stuffed your face with chocolate because of a dare? Remember how we argued for so long about who listened to better music? I bet you don’t. We’ve done lots in the year that just passed and even I don’t remember everything. But I do remember finally agreeing to be your girlfriend on this day last year, after a month of constant asking. Today we have officially been together for a whooole year. Happy Anniversary! Sorry we can’t spend it together. I’ll see you reeeally soon though. Kanyako? Hahaha, (I’m not) kidding. I love you!
The worst thing about moving out of home, even if it’s just for a while, is that when you’re alone with your thoughts it can really make you cry. Today is a Saturday and every Saturday I would always hear my dad and mom play a song and I did that today because it was what I was used to. It hit me so hard I started to cry because I realised I wasn’t home and that I wasn’t near them.
It’s amazing how our brains can associate certain smells and scenes and sounds and noises to family. Even something as simple as hearing the TV play X Factor shows make me want to curl up and be at home where my family is.
Is this what it feels like to be home sick? I never thought it was this bad. Now I understand why people warned me about feeling this way. It really is bad.
Just the fact that I’m here by myself having to buy my own groceries and having to watch out as I walk home at night make me miss the security I once had. It makes me appreciate my parents so much more because they were so protective of me and there was a reason for that. I used to abuse that and I even wished I was on my own so that I could do my own thing.
I have the chance now and I don’t do anything about it because I know my limits and what I should and should not do. I think what’s really getting to me is that I am not provided for anymore. I miss having a roll of toilet paper already there. I have to buy that now along with other things like dish washing liquids and laundry powders. We take these things for granted when we’re with people who provide that for us and, man, how ungrateful are we?
I’m showering today without soap for the first time because I have no soap. And I have no toothpaste. I need to go out and buy some myself. It’s so depressing.
I think I understand a bit more the importance of not taking things for granted. Especially things from your family. I just laugh at how I realise it only now. But to be fair, I don’t think I would have ever appreciated them the way I do now if it weren’t for the distance and the independence.
I just thought I’d put it down here so that maybe you can appreciate yours earlier.
I thought I’d be a little different by greeting my boyfriend on my blog instead of the usual Facebook wall post. He’s a big boy now, twenty, and he still loves his play station. I remember him telling me, “I can’t have a baby, I won’t have time to play my 2k.” I made sure he knew he wasn’t ready for one if he thought that way still.
We still didn’t know how to take pictures with each other. Awkward losers.
I wish we were together right now watching Shortland Street or Kat Williams dance to “everyday I’m hustling” while eating Kit Kat and MnMs. I wish he were here to rub my sore feet, scratch my back, and comb through my hair. I wish he were here with me making eggs and telling me how important salt and pepper are. Especially white pepper.
Reagan is an important person who has become a very important part of my life. I met him when he was sixteen and I can’t believe how much he’s grown. He’s wiser AND musclier.
100 times more comfortable.
Many things have happened from that point to now and I’m glad to say I was next to him when he had marvellous realisations about love and when he had epiphanies about life. I was there when he was frustrated about things and I was there when he tried to keep matters to himself but ranted them out anyway. I saw his heart break. I saw the tears fall. I saw him laugh out loud.
So dearest dear, I’m sorry we can’t spend your entire birthday together but I promise you we can spend our entire life with each other.
Happy birthday, bub. I love you lots and miss you just as much.
PS. I need your warmth. Wellington is cold as.
Girls have a certain look when a boy breaks their heart. It’s different. It stands out. She may try hide it with jokes and smiles but once you look at her without her speaking, you know that pout, frown, sigh is about a boy.
And you know what, it sucks. Because boys shouldn’t do that to girls who put their energy into thinking about them almost every day. That boy is the first thing she’ll think of in the morning and the last at night. That boy is the face or person that she’ll daydream her future about.
One of the things I enjoy doing is introducing myself to someone when I’m with Reagan. Unlike my unfortunate moments in the past where people got my name mixed up for Erica, Rita, or Marika, they get it right this time. Bulls eye. Perfect.
"What’s your name?"
"And I’m Rikka"
"Jeepers. Reagan and Rikka. It’s a perfect match. Has a nice ring to it too."
I love the way they react.
I wonder what people will say if I dye my hair white and wear it in a ponytail all day. I wonder why I try too hard to form sentences that I just know should come to me naturally. I realize that I only work well, can only perform my best, when I want to. When I feel it. When it’s swelling up inside me that all I can do about it is express it.
I’ve always wondered why twenty year old somethings complain about growing up. I get it now. If you’re living at home, consider yourself lucky, really. But others move out and have to find a job to pay the bills while trying to balance passing assignments and exams with good grades.
There’s insurance for everything and a form for every activity and gosh all the groceries to buy so you can feed yourself and bathe yourself in something that makes your hair strong, silky, shiny while also smelling good.