Life According to Nobody: boyfriend

Relationships are hard. When you truly love someone, you'd do anything in your power to make them happy. I recently moved out of my parents home and into a flat on my own in the big city. Don't get me wrong, I love it here. I can do what I want, whenever I want. I'm surrounded by my friends and my boyfriend works just around the corner so I cna see him all the time.
I know I'm going to sound like a whiney bitch who's never happy but I've noticed that the high I'd been riding on all of summer is beginning to plummet and I can feel myself sinking into the all too familiar slump of emptiness. Now, before I say anything more, there are a few things I need to point out.

1. I'm in a happy, loving relationship. The way I feel about him has not changed in the slightest. He still makes me unbelievably happy and I would do anything for him.

2. I am in no way self-diagnosing myself with depression or anything like that. I'm happy. Just a little sad-happy, if you understand.

I've been in Australia for 14 days now. I really want to be full of wanderlust but I just seem to have come to the conclusion that I'm too happy at home to go off exploring new countries. Don't get me wrong , nothing fascinates me more than learning about new cultures but I just don't want to be anywhere but home right now. I miss the comfort of my own bed and the arms of my boy. I'm not ungrateful to my mum for flying me to the other side of the world to see her and explore new places and see new things. I love it here. Brisbane's a beautiful city full of exciting people and wonderful places. But being here makes me a little sad. Maybe more than a little actually. I wish I could share this experience with the man I love. A little piece of me feels like it's missing and I can't truly enjoy all the wonderful opportunities I'm being given here.

25 days 💫

A photo posted by Carrie MacNeill (@carriemac97) on Nov 6, 2016 at 10:39am PST

[Warning: this ones about to get real soppy and gross and omg please don't read it I'm disgusting.]So let me explain something. First off, it's 3.15am so I can't be held responsible for the things that come out of my mouth. It's the witching hour and this is when all my worst word babies form. I doubt this is worth anyone's time to read and I really feel like I'll regret this in the morning and never want anyone to see the ridiculous things that make their way out of my brain at this hour but fuck it.(I'm writing this to a specific person. Everyone else is welcome to jump on the band wagon and think I'm mental but hey ho)I fall in love with you a little bit more every day. I grew up watching movies where the prince would sweep the girl off her feet and she'd be so madly and deeply in love with him and they'd live happily ever after forever. Not every boy is a prince and not every boy is capable of sweeping girls off their feet. Me especially, I ain't light. Love isn't perfect. It's like water. It ebbs and flows. But let me tell you something I'm learning. Not every second of a relationship is perfect but when the relationship is good, the great moments outshine the nagging and the awkward parts where you bump teeth or make some horrendous noise. When I think about my relationship, I think of all the good things he does. They way he makes me feel special and treats me like his princess. I don't care about the little arguments. Most of the time, I can't even remember what they're about. I'm not perfect and my relationship isn't perfect. But my man is perfect for me and in the end, that's all that really matters.
x

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We all want to move out and be independent. At 17, even though I was away at boarding school, I dreamed of moving out, getting my own place and being independent. I had planned how I’d decorate my flat. Now that that dream has become a reality, I’m a little disappointed. Undeniably, I love it. I have my own space; I can do what I want when I want. There’s no restrictions on bedtimes or what I can have for dinner. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. But, being an adult is difficult.

Budgeting is not something I ever had to worry about. My entire income was completely disposable. I spent money willy-nilly with no regard for savings. That is my number one regret. If I can give any advice to those of you who are not in provided accommodation, save save save! There’s so much junk lying around my wonderful independent flat that I don’t need. I wasted money when I had it instead of saving for when I needed it. I’m not desperate for cash. It’s just that I’m not as comfortable as I could be if I hadn’t bought those clothes online and filled a flat with useless paraphernalia.

My job pays well. I make enough money to look after myself and I have to support of my family backing me up. I just worry that my friends are still living a life of relative luxury, having very little to no bills to worry about meaning they don’t have to be concerned about the numbers dwindling down on their mobile banking app. I know I’m never going to be homeless or starving. If I’m struggling, there are more than a few people I can turn to. As you can probably guess from my strong personality though, I despise asking for help. I don’t want to have to rely on others for money.

Here’s the other issue. Warning, you may want to cringe. I have a wonderful man who treats me like a princess. I want to make him feel like the prince he deserves to be. I know I don’t need to spend money to do that but I do like to treat him nice. We like to do nice things together but I don’t want to have to be checking the bank balance. I’m glad we’re happy when we’re not spending money.

We went out to dinner last night. This isn’t something we very often. Most of our time together is spent in the flat infront of the TV. It’s great and it’s intimate and we don’t have to worry about booking times or places we need to be. That being said, it was nice to go out for a change. Spending time in each other’s company in a public setting is so different from being at home with someone. The restaurant was cute and romantic, the food was delicious and the company was delightful. All in all, it was a great night and he made me a very happy lady once again.

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There’s something about driving through the mountains that makes me feel calm. Looking out the window at a sheer face doesn’t scare me or make me feel claustrophobic like most people. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve spent so much of my life surrounded by them or because of the extra oxygen from all the plants on them or whatever but I just feel lighter and more relaxed in the mountains. There’s an hour and a half car journey between or apartment and the airport here in Turkey. Most of it is through the mountains and these journeys are some of the most peaceful memories I have. I think about so many things in this minibus.

I’ve been doing this journey for years and year and, over the last few years, I’ve unplugged from the world. I pop in my headphones and watch out the window as the trees and the mountains disappear behind me into the horizon. Two years ago, when I loved a boy for the first time, it was this car journey that helped me realise that. I had Ed Sheeran’s album on blasting out the noise of my parents’ idle chatter and I just thought. I knew he was special. He was the only one who could make me smile when I was down, it was him I turned to when I wanted to chat. He was my world. But I had to leave him behind. Not a lot of people understood the relationship we had. Some people thought we were dating, most people just shipped us really hard. I don’t really know how to describe what we had but I know that some of my happiest memories ever are with that boy. I’m going to get cliché here and tell you that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. I didn’t appreciate how much I loved that boy until I was on an airplane leaving him forever.

This story has a happy ending, you’ll be glad to hear. Although I lost contact with most of my friends from Canada, there’s one person I still talk to almost every single day. My first live has turned in to my dearest friend. Even know, I’d do anything for him and we talk as if we haven’t been apart for a minute. That’s the kind of friendships you need. Make friends for a lifetime. Although I do still love him with all my heart, it’s a different kind of love. It’s not boyfriend love, but it’s not brother love either. He’s like an extension of me. Everything I do, he has to know about. We update each other on the most mundane things but it’s still so interesting for each other. I know I didn’t need to write this to tell him how much I care about him because he knows it already. He’s still my world and I can’t wait to spend New Year’s with him, making new memories to add to our collection.

On this particular bus ride, I’m looking forward, not back. Both literally and figuratively. I must admit, it’s a little more scary. The mountains grow from tiny lumps to giants, looming way over my head. I have so much to look forward to. I’ve finally got the freedom I’ve dreamed of for so many years and I have so many ideas zooming through my head as to what I want to do with it. I’m taking the big step and moving out. I have a gorgeous new love that makes me laugh and makes me feel pretty and who looks after me (there may be more about him coming soon). Instead of reminiscing on what I had, I can look forward to what I have now too. A new city, a new life and a new me. It’s now time for me to make my own home. I’ve blossomed into an individual with my own thoughts, opinions and feelings and I’m anxious to get out there and do.

I feel like myself again, after being lost for so long. Some people may think I’ve changed or I’m acting strange but please, you have to believe me. I’m me now. The mopey, self-centred, angst teenager you all knew (and possibly loved) is gone and I’m a new woman. I’m at home in my own body. I have a strong vision of what I want to do with my future now and, at the end of this single, 90 minute bus journey, the rest of my life begins. Wish me luck!

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I'm a bit of a loner. I don't really enjoy the company of lots of people. I'm at my happiest when I'm all on my own, laptop in hand or a good book (currently Game of Thrones. My god. It's amazing. Post to come.). For the last 2 years, I've been at a boarding school where I could disappear for a few hours, get away from society and do my own thing, ALONE. I didn't feel left out or anything, I just prefer my own company.

I get exhausted trying to make small talk to people for hours on end. I really hate it when you sit with someone and they tell you the same story over and over and over again because they'd rather hear the sound of their own voice than some peace and quiet. My boyfriend and I were discussing this the other day and he told me he didn't feel uncomfortable when neither of us were talking. I hadn't realised it up until that point but, looking back on it, I hadn't realised how often we end up sitting in silence. It's not that we have nothing to talk about. We are just able to enjoy each other's company without constantly filling the air with pointless noise.

I'm used to not taking part in conversations. I keep quiet and listen. Not because I don't have anything to add or because I feel uncomfortable around people. I just don't feel the need to be constantly engaged in conversation. I don't feel uncomfortable sitting quietly with somebody, enjoying their company without having to endure their conversation.

Maybe there's something wrong with the wiring in my brain that causes me to lack the need for communication with others. Maybe the people I spend time with just have too much to say. Either way, I find myself getting wound up by spending long periods of time with some people in my life. I don't blame them, (well I do at the time). It's not necessarily their fault. My family have grown up surrounded by lots of people, being taught that it's polite to make small talk and keep a conversation going.

The whole stigma surrounding "awkward silences" drives me crazy. I believe that there's a great comfort that comes from silence. The people I feel happiest with, I can sit alone with, sharing our thoughts. But most importantly, having thoughts. I struggle to comprehend how people are able to keep conversations going for hours on end. I take time to think things through. I can't come up with immediate responses to the 100 questions that are thrown in my direction during a conversation with my mother.

Don't get me wrong, I can be a grumpy cow. I snap at people when I'm tired or hungry. I'm no model citizen but nothing frustrates me more than somebody trying to spark up conversation with me when I'm trying to read. I went out to sit alone on the balcony and read my book today. My aunt appeared at the balcony door (they had been out on the balcony on the other side of the house) and asked me why I was sat on my own when they were all out having a chat. I told her I just wanted some peace and quiet to read so she decided to round everyone up and bring them out on to the balcony beside me. Peace shattered.

I think it must be quite frustrating for people who talk all the time to spend time with me. I sit in silence, without even acknowledging people as they come and go. I know it's rude. Small talk is just part of the basic manners that your parents teach you when you're little. Chew with your mouth closed, say please and thank you, never sit in silence.

I'd like to make a request to those of you who spend time with me on a regular basis. Please believe me when I say that I don't intend to be rude. I'm not ignoring you and I'm not in a bad mood. Sometimes I just need some quiet time. I don't hate you, you probably haven't done anything wrong. I dont want you to take offence to this, but I enjoy my company more than yours. There's only one person that I'd be happy to be with 24 hours a day. Just like me, he enjoys the quiet.

When he was here with me, we would float side by side in the pool, each of us reading. Together but not talking. Just being with each other. I never thought I could spend so much time exclusively with one person without them driving me up the wall. I've never enjoyed being around anyone before. I normally endure people until I can find a reason to escape. Things have changed now. Instead of dreaming of getting away from everyone to be alone, I dream of running away to him.

The boy has changed me. SOS I need help. I'm going soft. I'm a bloody marshmallow.

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Being in a familiar place can be comforting. Being alone in a familiar place can be a lot less comforting. I’ve been here countless times in my life. This has been our home in the sun since before I can remember. I’ve grown up surrounded by the locals. I know my way around the broad, tourist-laden streets. I know the secrets of the village, the local traditions and the native families that live around me. However, I’m still lonely. I’ve discovered a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘love hurts’. I’m not heartbroken. Quite the opposite. I’ve never been so utterly enveloped in affection for another being. When we’re together, his needs are always my first priority. I don’t cringe at the chronically stereotypical gender roles that we adopt. I’m more than happy to cook and clean and do his washing as he lies on the sofa with a beer watching sports. If I were to tell this to myself a year ago, I’m sure I wouldn’t believe it. I’m an independent person. I rarely rely on the kindness of others to guide me through life. I make my own luck, working hard to get what I want without the charity of others where possible.

Bringing him to my sanctuary, the place I feel safe and happy and at peace was a big risk. We’d never spend more than a day or two together and I knew that ten days alone in a foreign country my stretch our relationship. My mother had warned me that ‘you don’t really know someone until you go on holiday with them’ and I was a little dubious that the passion that bubbled between us would soon turn sour and we’d resent each other on day three.

I don’t like talking about my relationship in depth on here in fear of the future. I worry that if we do decide to go our separate ways, either in friendship or on less pleasant terms, these thoughts may serve as a painful reminder of what I had. What I lost. However, this is an exception. I suppose, as an aspiring writer, I see profound emotions as deeply inspirational. I doubt (and hope) I will ever feel the intense adrenaline rush of being held at gunpoint or the heart wrenching sorrow of the loss of a child. But I’ve gained a little insight into the fervent rush of affection for another. I hope that, in the future when I become a world-famous writer, that I can use the way I feel right now to try and put in to words the way a woman feels when her husband goes off to battle. Or when a girl sees the boy she dreamt of standing on the opposite train platform from her, waving solemnly as he disappears from her.

This place that I call home, the one I dream of curled up in my blankets on stormy winter nights has turned into what I can only describe as a birdcage. When two love birds are together in that cage, they sing joyfully all day, grooming each other and relishing in each other’s company. Now my fellow love-bird is gone, and I won’t see him for almost a month, all I can do is stick my little beak through the bars of this gorgeous, suntrap and listen out for the sweet birdsong that tweets on so far away from me now.

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