For my sake.

I went for a coffee with a friend today which was absolutely lovely. This particular Costa on campus has a terrible layout, but what it lacks for in queue times is made up for by the seating area downstairs. Because it’s underground, the reception on your phone cuts out. There’s no windows so it’s pretty easy to forget what’s going on outside – this unpredictable weather, to mention an example. I feel like that particular Costa  is my safe space, my hiding place if you will.

It was wonderful talking to Alex, it turns out we have a lot in common. Anyway, I was explaining to Alex that I can be a difficult person at times. I have certain expectations and I often wonder whether or not they’re too high. But they’re not. I’m often quick to ‘cull’ people, because I only need (and like) a few people. School experiences, teenage angst and working in retail for nearly four years have all contributed to my tendency to give a cold shoulder. I’m too quick to not give people a chance.

Sylvia Plath had my kind of vibe:

I don’t do things by half. It’s either no chance at all, or with people I care about, too many chances. I guess I’ve made selective conclusions about my experiences – they’ve not toughened me up in quite the right way. I will hold my hand up to any faults, I act too impulsively on negative emotions, I have terrible mood swings, I’m pretty needy and I don’t listen to people when I don’t like what they have to say. I’m also not assertive enough. I can’t communicate what I’m screaming inside, thinking that the words ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ are enough. But they’re not. An explanation has not been enough. And unfortunately, the faith that I’ve put in people has been too much. I’ve held out for someone else too much. And I should know better. After everything, I should know that once you’ve let yourself be let down so many times, you’ll only get let down more.

Anne Frank expressed the kind of hope that always makes me sad:

I started writing this blog earlier tonight (about five or six hours ago, actually) when I was too angry to know what to do with myself. Don’t get me wrong, this is far from a positive post. This post started out in my moleskin, I’ll let you have a glance at it so you might understand how I feel.

I feel terrible for tearing the page.

The entry I’m writing now isn’t the entry I intended at all.  My own words weren’t enough earlier so I walked away. I generally went for a walk and listened to the same song on repeat. I then went out for dinner on strict orders with good friends. I ordered a ‘butty bach’ expecting that I’d get a chip butty (because of the word butty). I was inevitably completely confused when the bar woman gave me a pint of ale. I didn’t get my chip butty and I won’t get back those chances I gave away. Today has been quite a day.

Tomorrow I’ll probably definitely have a chip butty before I go and watch Limp Bizkit. Tomorrow I’ll definitely give  another chance. Tomorrow I’ll go and see how Alex is, and thank her for making me feel like less of a difficult person.

Now looking at the picture, I notice that the sign is attached to the actual tap…


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