looking back
As i was walking home today i was relishing in the hope for the day and all that i had planned. One thought fell through the next one and i remembered how happy i was three years ago. Not happy in terms of myself or my parents( I was going through the regular, unoriginal teenage angst shit), but it was the last time i’d be in a relationship and i’d feel the closest to being fulfilled i could be with another. Now - relationships do not do that for me at all. First of all I don’t even indulge in them, i dilly dally in mock relationships.
My only big breakup was on my eighteen birthday. I had been with him for a year and a half (a record i still have yet to break) and he was the illest partner in crime i could have had. He was a weirdo (yes, weirder than me) and i’d say pretty handsome (some people thought we were brothers and sisters…creepay). We started our days early and hung out for the whole of them. He helped me to get to try and understand myself and he inspired me to express myself and create art and read stellar books, he also understood my adoration for folk/indie music and sung along with me. We were just a couple of outcast teenage mallrats who when we weren’t creating mayhem against mall cops liked to stay in floral sheeted beds while smoking and sexing (yes, simultaneously). He never made me feel ashamed or silly for thinking the things i do or wanting to be a full fledged creep, instead he participated in the foolery. He just made everything fresh and original and I loved his ways. He may have been too far out there sometimes but that’s what we did. I’ll never forget the day he came to pick me up from school and brought me a pineapple as a gift. :) I doubt anyone has understood me to the extent that he did. He took my world and rumpled the days with love and creativity and adventure and fanta flavored clouds.
He was outrageous and I just a young lass down for the cause. We melted into each other. It was more than lovely.




