My Mumbling Thoughts

I took a week off of uni to get healthy and let my body heal. For the most part, it has, but I’m still partially deaf, still have a cough and still am slightly run down. I’m exhausted, get headaches every so often and aside from feeling physically down, emotionally I feel like I may never be completely healed, which gets me down as well.

Life on the inside of the flat has been bleak and quiet for the most part; Trish has gone away for the weekend, Helen is always in and out doing her own thing, and Carlene keeps to herself up in her room with all of her TV series on DVD. I kind of just wander from my bedroom, to the bathroom, down into the kitchen, and loaf on the settee. I didn’t do any work on my mini break off, and now I find myself feeling blah and still not in the mood to get any of it finished.

Blah.

Zoë and I have been together for the most part, which is always nice. I love hanging out with Zoë. We sit and chat shit, drink many cups of tea, and wonder what life would be like if we didn’t have all of the restrictions that we have. We talk about traveling together, living together, getting rich and famous together, going out together…together, together, together…

It leaves me thinking about next year and what it’s going to be like separated from her. She is, as I always say, my partner in crime. Whenever I go out, getting drunk and causing mischief, she’s generally the one always by my side either egging me on, or trying to keep me calm. Then the next day, when we’re recovering in somebody’s flat, we recap the entire evening and try to piece together as much of the broken night back together to try and make some kind of picture out of what happened; why do I have yet another fresh set of bruises on my legs? Who did she pull? Who did we meet that’s new and probably not interesting at all, but seemed interesting at the time when we were in our extreme alcoholic state?

Next year will be different for us though. She’s going away for a year to spend her third year in Peru. It’s what students who are taking a language have to do as part of their degrees. Helen is going away to Paris for a year, since she’s studying French, and Zoë is off to Peru since she’s studying Spanish. And as happy as I am that they’re going to experience this once in a lifetime opportunity, and as exciting and kick ass I know it’s going to be, part of me is really selfish and wants to ask, “what about me?” They’re my top two gals that I need in order to keep myself from going insane. When I’m frustrated and need to vent, I find refuge in Helen’s room where we’ll sit and have chats for hours on end, until we either both feel a lot lighter, or perhaps more worked up than before. And when I’m in need of just going out and getting absolutely shitfaced to the point where I forget what my name is, Zoë is always there, ready and willing to get all gussied up and paint the town red.

Third year is wide open for me. I’m pressing on here thinking and doing things as if I’ll be back for my third and final round, whereas Momma is still convinced that I’ll be attending a university in New York. Meh. We’ll see how that all goes. I’m just trying to make it through the week. My brain is simply not in any condition to think about anything too far off in the distance. My body is definitely not in any condition to do anything too strenuous that’s going to cause me to relapse and spend another agonizing week indoors. I’m just going to try and make it to the next day and see how things go.

Until then, I’ll continue to sit here, with my girls, and soak up every minute as if it’s our last one. A lot of things change in a year’s time. I’m hoping that the time spent away will only make our friendship stronger, rather than us drift apart like how some things happen. I’m going to miss our nights out, our nights in, and our days together. But most of all, I’m just going to miss them.