Snap!

Walking around Barcelona something odd happened. SNAP! My foot, it just seemed to go from under me. It had been hurting for a few days, it started with a funny pain in my toe and before long I was hopping around Parc Guell.  I climbed to the top and basked in the amazing view, taking in the smell and sounds to create a memory I hope will last forever.I was  however very aware that my foot was screaming out in pain. I hobbled along La Rambla and limped down stairwells in the metro. I was put to bed by my friend, he played the tough love card and we spent Saturday night in bed reading. I read a trashy romance novel and he read Frank O’ Connor to me. We could hear the screams of the Barcelona football fans ringing out in the distance. Could he hear my guilty feelings for ruining some of our holiday?

6 days of foot rest so far since I have gotten home. Feet up and dinner served to me. Helpful hands bring me drinks and anything else I need from my bedroom. Today was too much though, another gorgeous evening and I am stuck inside. I can’t go far on crutches, I live on a hill and my hands tire easily on the grey plastic hand rests. He makes me put my feet up and he says its called tough love. Brian stayed up late to talk to me, keep me company I guess. he hasn’t been out all week. I don’t know if he is keeping me company or if he is tired. I smoked numerous cigarettes out the balcony while asking him a million questions relevant to nothing, just to keep myself amused. Before I knew it SNAP! I lost the plot with him, He said something silly in passing and I flipped out. He got up and went to bed, no handshake goodnight, nothing. I sat in silence looking out over the city and lit another cigarette. Could he hear my guilty feelings for snapping at him even though he didn’t deserve it?

Adoration

After 83 days of living with him, I think it is time to write about him. My housemate.

I haven’t lived with anyone I didn’t really know before, I won’t holiday with anyone I don’t like, I’ll rarely spend time with people I don’t really know so I technically moved in with a stranger. Yes, he was in my social circle but I never said more than 10 words to him and now here we are living together.

Day 83 has us sitting in the living room together. He is sitting on the couch reading the Sunday Times while I watch him from the kitchen table. I am pondering how to word what I want to say about him.This morning he made me coffee and laughed when I didn’t like it, he toasted my bagel for me and helped to pack my friends suitcase for her.

Usually we stay up late talking to each other, I tell him stories about growing up and he laughs while I recall the silly things that I have done. He has an incredible memory for remember the silly things I’ve said while in his company and he loves to repeat them to anyone who will listen. He loves to sleep and usually starts his “It’s nearly bed time” count down from about 9pm. He picks out music that I have never heard of that he thinks I will like. He is afraid to be in the car with me because he thinks I am a dangerous driver and will sit in the back unless he looses a bet and has to ride shot-gun. He is trying to teach me how to play guitar and he thinks I can play a perfect G. Sometimes he will sit with me and play and when the song requires a G chord, he’ll nod and I’ll play. He tries to make me sing more, and keeps asking us to start a band or go busking. We talk about our families and friends that we had that are no longer around. He loves humous and reggae sauce, he eats creme eggs whole and has a new found addiction to winding me up. We Facebook each other across room, text each other throughout the day and have a handshake that we do before bed time.   Sometimes we hide in my room and talk, sometimes he climbs into my bed when drunk. He always says “Please and Thank you” and always remembers to give me a fake evil look when I leave the door open by accident.  If I tell him something about someone and he repeats it, I get mad, he’ll later take me aside laughing and say “You know it is okay to let someone know that you will miss them”. He is respectful and wise, he doesn’t push his beliefs on anyone and he is generous with his time. He appreciates when I cook for him and he always cleans up after I do. He makes me laugh so hard that I cry and when he is hung over I crawl in next to him to check his pulse. We’ve made some funny traditions and all of them make me feel like I belong here. He gives me advice and reminds me of my self-worth, he helps me to figure things out and he always sits next to me when he thinks I might be feeling lonely.

Most importantly he thinks we are family and that families should look after each other and he does, he takes care of me, even with all my ups and downs. I love my new home, my new family and my new friend, Brian.

7 things you need for silence

Things needed if you are giving up talking for 24 hours for charity.

1. A doodle board (for small chit~chat)

2. A notebook (about 200 pages should do it, This can be used for longer conversations!)

3. Cigarettes or Chewing Gum (Handy when stressed out of you realised you have chewed the inside of your gum away to keep you from talking)

4. Board Games (Do not play if you are not able to win, losing without being able to moan about it, is not only horrible but boring for the winner)

5. Music you have never heard before (Music you don’t know means lyrics you don’t know, which means no singing along!)

6. Chocolate (No explanation needed)

and 7. your favourite people in the world. Gather them all together and make them stay with you. They’ll torture you in with things that never bothered you before, they will drag you around town and make you socialise, they’ll text you when they know you can’t reply, they’ll take fake phone calls and whisper because you can’t ask what’s going on and they’ll drive you around the bend until you think you are going to lose the plot completely.

The thing is though, at the end of the day when you are about to start talking again and you have butterflies in your tummy and you’re starting to get really nervous, you’ll say your first few words and look around and see that amidst a crowd of social acquaintances are 5 faces looking at you and they are smiling, they are smiling because they are proud.

Muffled Crying

I came home last night with my headphones on and the music blasting in my ears, I dumped my bag, laptop and coat on the floor and saw my housemates face pop out his bedroom door, he was sitting on the fllor looking up at me. I didn’t smile, I didn’t wave, I didn’t even acknowledge him, I just went straight to  my room.  I climbed into my bed, put the covers over my head and cried, I muffled the sound with a scarf, some pillows and hoped that the music he has on would drown out the sound anyway.

This happens sometimes, the crying. I wasn’t particularally sad about anything, life is life, it has ups and downs but sometimes the crying starts and I never know when it will stop. Of course, I didn’t really mention this to my housemate before moving in with him. I eventually managed to drag myself out of bed and go into him, I sat next to him while he talked about the mundane. Distracted chat really, the tears kept flowing but I kept conversation going.

By the time our other housemate had gotten home, I had calmed down but as soon I caught his gaze, my eyes welled up again. The three of us huddled in one triangular shaped room talked about music and books and did everything to not talk about the fact I had not stopped crying in over an hour.

Being upset is hard work, it can make  girl hungry so I made some dinner and showered, I hadn’t even closed the door before I was bawling again, the boys knocked to make sure I was alright. I wanted to hide, go somewhere nowhere could hear me and cry properly. Long empty sobs, but you have to put on a brave face for people don’t you.

I went to bed for a while with one of them, just too talk, he rubbed my back, ran his fingers through my hair and made me think of  Thailand and other such adventures. When he got sleepy, I returned to the living room, to a patiently waiting housemate. I lay down on the couch and when he had finished tidying away the table he came and sat in front of me, put his arm around me and said I hate to see you so sad. This made me more sad and I couldn’t figure out why.

We sat and talked until all hours of the morning, he listened to me talking about places and people, stories from when I was a kid and new about what had happened that day. He laughed when I asked too many questions and he said all the right things at the right time. I hugged him goodnight and went to bed, closed my eyes and go to sleep and my phone beeped. “You have made a friend for life” it read, and it was from my housemate, who is quickly going up my scale of favourite people to be around.

Stubborn dog.

Well, I’ve moved out, or moved in depending on how you look at it.

It’s new and exciting and my room feels like home, I stay up late taking to Ro, We’ve already throw a party but I miss my Mom. I am so used to the little thing, reading the Sunday Times in bed together, Having to call her a million times from the top of the stairs when looking for something. Helping her unpack the groceries and us both sitting down to eat something only just after putting things in the freezer.

I miss my Dad too, the way he used to wake me up at 5am every morning coming home from work. How he would come in and sneak me a bar of chocolate if I was feeling down. I miss how he used to be singing downstairs and I would join in from my room and we’d sing song after song until Mom would scream at us to shut up. I miss the stupid way he ruffles my hair that makes me smile when I’m happy but makes me sob when I’m down.

I miss my little brother and how he always goes looking for his pssport when he is drunk. I miss fighting over the tv remote and watching stupid shows just to annoy him. I miss him calling into me telling me what drama him and his friends encountered while they were out.

I even miss the dog, how he climbs up on to my lap and stays there just to get warm.

I called over on Sunday evening and it was different, it felt different. My room was no longer my room, the bare walls looked lonely and while I did sit and read the times with Mom on the couch it wasn’t the same. The dog didn’t come near me and it begane to feel very real. Things are changing and I have to move with it or I’ll get left behind.

Moving Out

So, this is it. 4 weeks and I will be living with two friends in town.

We’ve seen a few places that we liked but we’re waiting to hear back on them but now they’ve all handed in their notce, we’ll have to find somewhere or be homeless. So, that bring us to St Stephens Day. Meaning Christmas night will be my last night at home. To say I am nervous is an undertstatement. To say I am scared shitless might be more accurate.

I want to have freedom and independence and figure things out for myself. I want to feel like an adult and learn how to compromise and budget money.I want to have parties and people over, I want to fend for myself and feel free.

However, I am scared of being homesick for my bed and missing my Mom alot. I can’t drive home in the middle of the night and hop into her bed with her for a chat. I am afraid the boys won’t let me come in for late chats if I can’t sleep or if I’m worried about something.

It’s time I moved out, I’m 25 now but I have only even known a single bed in a family house with the familair sounds that the house makes. When we moved houe when I was 10 and it took me weeks to sleep properly, get used to the sounds and the feeling of the room, I moved bedrooms three times before I could sleep properly. I am nervous about all these things and more. Like how my social life will change, I won’t have as much money for going out and doing things as I used to and I’m afraid that I’ll feel left out or get left behind.