It soon came to that time to go back home. I was really looking forward to getting back to my piggies, rat and hamster as well as embracing my lovely home. Feeling safe in knowing that it is indeed, MY home. It has felt good to be back home, on my own turf as it were. My flat no longer has remnants of his stuff and the bad feelings that they held for me and this was reassuring and I felt as though I had finally had some kind of closure. I text him to get his last box of books from the shed outside, but that was it. His last things were gone and I could finally feel as though I could move on with my own life.
Yesterday, Tom encouraged me, even though I wasn't really feeling too confident at first, to go out of the flat at least once a day. I took that chance and followed him in to town where we sorted out the last of my housing benefit and council tax benefits. Respectively. We then spent the evening together just relaxing and enjoying some time just happily together. It felt absolutely amazing and the evening was highlighted by events like playing around with test pots of paint (all the colours you could think of) and making my room look and feel a bit more contemporary. Hand prints, little pictures, and other amusing things. It culminated in what was one of the most grunge moments I have ever experienced. Sitting painting on the wall in torn and stained jeans, singing along to simple punk songs played on an acoustic guitar. It was awesome.
It's nice to feel like I am back to where I was or where I really should have been in the first place. I feel like a lively and happy 23 year old again and not some person who was past it or given up in life.
2 years ago