Run.

I want to go.

I want to stay.


I want to sing.

I want to be silent.


I want to take photos.

I want to forget.


I want to travel.

I want to be home.


I want to be lost in the crowd.

I want to be found in a storm.


I want to be soaked in the rain.

I want to snuggle in the warm.


I want to make music.

I want to listen.


I want to fly.

I want to stay grounded.


I want to love fearlessly.

I want to be safe.


I want time to stand still.

I want to be older.


I want to create.

I want to be.


I want to find myself.

I want to be someone else.


I want to be a mother.

I want to stay a child.


I want to hibernate.

I want to feel alive.


I want to grow.

I want to stay comfortable.


I want to run.

I want to catch my breath.


I am a living, breathing, eating, sleeping, thinking, walking, dreaming, laughing, singing, surviving, longing, despairing contradiction.

On receiving troublesome news...

Me: Why is this happening? I don't understand.

God: ...

Me: I thought we were on the same team and you know how much I like him, but I don't get why you're letting this happen. This hurts. I want him to be with me, not her.

God: I have better for you.

Me: But it doesn't get any better than him.

God: Do you not know me?!

Me: *speechless*

Kind of like being hit by a train, hearing that someone you still like is in a new relationship now really hurts. You see it coming from miles off. You hear the rumble in the tracks beneath you and you know you should move on but for some suicidal reason you decide to stay. You feel like maybe you can stop the inevitable.

The lights blare at you and everyone on the platform is screaming at you to move, but you're so numb that you can't. You've been there so long that you don't remember what anything else feels like. In some sick way, maybe the impact would remind you that you are alive.

You stare it down feeling nothing and everything all at once. Indifference and agony become one all-encompassing emotion. You try so hard not to care, but everything inside you wants to scream at the oncoming mass. Scream that this is revenge. Scream that he deserves to know how much it hurts. Scream that you don't want to live under his control. Scream that you want him gone from your life. Scream that it's his fault if you get hurt.

But the irony is that I am stood in his way, not he in mine.

I am the one that will be hurt.
I am the woman on the tracks.
I am the self-fulfilling prophesy.
I am the emotionally suicidal.
I am the one who can't move on.

I am the train wreck.

Finding my get-up-and-go.

I can only apologise once again and pray you don't hate me because I have been such a terrible blogger recently.

With that out of the way, there's been something that's been a common theme to my life for the last few weeks. Maybe it's down to the fact that I've given up a ridiculous amount for Lent this year - Alcohol, meat, chocolate and TEA - but I've just been feeling ridiculously tired and lethargic.

My get-up-and-go has got up and gone!

I've had a couple of mornings off and all I've mustered the strength to do is watch some movies, maybe put a wash on, or make a bowl of cereal. I have had these grand plans to use my free time to continue working on my quilt, or to start making something with the beautiful vintage map fabric I finally found the other day. But alas, I have remained in my bed, not bothering to open the curtains, and living a life that of boredom and decided unproductiveness.

I did go for two runs last week, which is incredibly shocking because I can honestly say I have done no exercise since I left school last June. It felt good to go out and do something, but then I got back and flopped and all energy was gone.

My week is normally consumed by work and church activities and it has been so lovely to have some down-time. BEd feels safe and cosy when it's raining and I've started to get burn-out from everything else. But I've had my rest and now I think it's time for me to get up and do something worthwhile with my time. Even if it's solely for the purpose of blogging about it later.

I leave you with a photo of the poor three people who have to spend their days with me in the office. I present to you, my fellow YMCA interns...

And now I must dare to leave the house...!