Yes, this is my last post on this blog, I decided that after 5 years I was done with all this teenage heartbreakstuff. I started a new blog where I’ll write in Dutch and in English. This blog probably will stay online as a memory to my teenage years.
Thank you for reading this blog & I hope I’ll see you back on Fools for love!
The last month I started having these uncontrollable ‘attacks’ when I start crying for no reason at all, nothing to trigger the tears. They just.. happen. There they are, affecting my mood. People ask me why I just start to cry, and I can’t give them an answer. I think that I’m missing something, but I can’t say what exactly. And maybe, unconsciously, I’m just scared to leave for England in September. I’m scared to go all by my self, with no friends, no parents, nobody to guide me. I think, sure, I’m strong, I’ve been doing this my whole life, I can do this too. But this is so different from everything I’ve done before. Maybe that’s why I’m crying, because I’m scared. What if I fail my courses in Canterbury? What if I’m not able to make any friends and I’ll just sit there for 3 months being extremely lonely? I know I shouldn’t think like that, and that I’ll be perfectly fine once I’m there, but it seems that I just can’t let it go…
I made this photo while I was on vacation in Austria, I hope you’ll like it!
It has been a while, I know. I’ve been busy, uninspired. I know writing helps me to clear my mind, but I guess I was scared to let anyone read it. I really felt like doing nothing today, I should start studying… but instead, I did nothing. It feels like I’m looking for something, answers maybe, but answers to the same old questions.
I wonder if I ever grew up. I feel the same like when I was 18, did I change? I know I’ve seen others change, well I did change. All the things I’ve said I’d never do… the past years I’ve probably did them all and I’m scaring myself. Because if there is no certainty in my behaviour, if I’m not stronger than that, what will become of me? I used to be so determined, in some ways I still am, but sometimes I feel like I’m not moving forward. I’m standing still, frozen in time.
I’m still a fool for love though, I don’t know what to think of it anymore. I feel like I’m shattered, all over the place. I’m longing for someone that can make me feel love again, if I think about it, I haven’t felt like that for a long time. The point is that I’m past the moment when you just risk it all. I’ve had my share of pain, and I’ve hurt a lot of people in return. I wonder if, in the end, it’s all worth it. Is it?
When I feel down, I write. I probably sound depressed all the time. I have so much papers to write actually, but I’d rather write down my frustrations than my academic knowledge.
I live on ambition. Ever since I was little people have pushed me down, laughed with my flaws, with my appearance. And I worked so hard to prove them wrong. And here I am, second year of university with amazing grades. Oh, I don’t bother telling them, I know they know, I’m where they tought they would be, but they’re not. And I might achieve everything I want in life, I might not make as much money as they do, but I’ll love my job. I’ll love what I do, because it was my choice and I earned it.
But the question I’m faced with today is if I’ll ever find true love and happiness with my endless ambition. What if I become a victim of myself? I’m so scared of a life with everything I want except for someone to hold me at night. And all those people who may never reach their dreamjobs, they’ll have love. Because they cared more about their boyfriends or girlfriends than their diplomas. So what if I’m wrong here? What if I’m chasing something that will never make me happy. I just wish I wasn’t so damn scared all the time. Because with ambition comes fear, risks and silence.
It’s late and I’m tired, but I feel the need to write a blog. The last months have been disappointing for me, in all sorts of ways and I just can’t figure it out how to turn it around. I hate it when we love someone and discover he doesn’t love you the way you wanted him to love you, or you discover he just uses you because he can’t get enough with his other girl. Sometimes we just don’t see it, we don’t see it for a long time, but when we do, it kills us, and we ask ourselves; how could I be that stupid? I’m the greatest fool for love in the history of (wo)men, that’s why I could be that stupid.
People say my day will come, but the more days pass, the less I believe in that day. Nobody sticks around longer than a month with me, and whose fault is that? Mine ? Maybe mankind has changed, all men became a homo sapiens sapiens idiot and someone forgot to tell women. No seriously, where’s the kind of man who dares to tell you that he likes you, the one who dares to ask you out for some coffee, the one who takes the risk of kissing you without warning. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I’m so tired of the fact that I always have to do all those things, because if I didn’t nothing would ever happen in my life and we would get nowhere really.
So now I’m scared, I feel lonely and I just need someone to run his fingers through my hair. But obviously I can’t ask too much these days. I just wish, that for once, just one person won’t let me down.