I feel . . . an odd feeling. I would say I feel deflated but it's not that really, it's more as if I'm a sort of firm spherical object such as a tennis ball and I've been punctured quite forcefully but due to my rubbery shell I've managed to keep my general form intact. It's my third night at university and I hear and see and feel people buzzing around me and I've been sat in my room since 6pm reading Oscar Wilde and watching Mock The Week and for the first time appreciating the Smiths. All of this should make me enormously contented, but I nonetheless feel so icky right now. I feel like everybody is pitying me; that's it. I feel like I am being pitied and stared at and patronised, though I'm probably not and it's probably just that stupid OCD part of my brain.
Nobody sat at my table at dinner today.
What is going to happen to me if I don't make friends now, while everybody else is?
I miss Oscar so badly. I just want this to be over so I can run off and marry him and never have to feel lonely again. I'm torn between building a stable foundation in my life and fleeing in a burst of romance and spontaneity. Perhaps I could catch the next plane to England and show up at his doorstep without telling him I'm coming and ask him to marry me and we could just be happy forever together. Please.
But what would my parents think if I threw away my world and ran off to follow love?
Why do I care what my parents think? Their lives are the utter antithesis of the way I'd like to live mine.
But moving away and figuring some other uni method and just starting to live the way I want to live. I don't know that even I, in my romanticism, could take that plunge. But it grows more and more plausible every day.
Even if I end up completely destroying my future, in the grand scheme of things, it won't make any difference to the universe. So why shouldn't I go for it?
What is it? I don't even know what I'm referring to.
I need Oscar here with me. That's what I'm referring to - anything that gets us back together. Everything else is so shallow. I'm not bothered by the prospect of overturning my life. I'm only bothered that I'm not bothered. And then I realise that the only reason I wouldn't be bothered by such a thing is that nothing else I've got going in my life is of even the most miniscule importance when held up against the explosively beautiful, neverending stream of sunshine that is my love for Oscar. Nothing else is of any permanence or consequence or value.
It's just so painful to live with the knowledge that we may not be together permanently for several years.
But even several years' wait is a blessing of a price to pay for the privilege of being able to meld my life with such a spectacularly magnificent human being. I desire nothing else from life.
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