A Personal Post: One Year Ago Today.

This is a pretty personal post, but if I have my own piece of the internet, why shouldn’t I delve into my feelings every now and again? I always used to bottle up my feelings, in fact, I still do. But there’s always been something inside me that has been so at ease with being able to just write/type them down, letting each thought be transformed into writing and published for the person or, at this moment, for the whole world to see. It baffles me how I can be so okay with that, yet telling somebody how much they mean to me comes as such an internal confliction that it chokes me up and turns me into a frozen ball of ice solidifying any verbal form of feelings for others so they are unable to free-flow from my mouth.

I’m not sure what I am aiming to gain from writing this. A weight off my chest? A hope that you’ll understand my love for Katy more? Maybe just to let you know that there’s life after heartbreak? I don’t know. But seeing the date today made me want to type this. For myself more than anybody.

One year ago today, I had the best and worst day of my life.
Having such a high and low combined into 24 hours played and messed about with my feelings more than I like to admit, it was the happiest and most heartbroken that I’ve ever been.

After weeks of feeling distant from the person that I was with, combined with bugging everybody that I knew that had a functioning email (yes, pretty much 98% of the population) to apply for Katy Perry at itunes festival tickets, it all finally led up to the moment that I was sat watching the post-end credit clip of Hollyoaks, at 6:30 on the dot. My phone buzzed, and as soon as my eyes focused on ‘Congratulations! Claim your Katy Perry tickets here!’ I screamed.

I screamed and I cried. I rang my Mum and I screamed and I cried at her. I rang my friend and I screamed and I cried at her.
I ran up and down the stairs, I ran round and around my room. I had never felt such energising excitement in my entire life. I had wished, prayed and dreamed, since it was announced that Katy was playing, to win tickets, and after losing every bit of hope I had, thinking all tickets had gone, I WON! I finally had that confirmation that I was seeing the woman who meant the absolute world to me in five days time, and nothing could pop my bubble.

Out of the blue, mid-floating on a big pink cloud of excitement, happiness, feeling the luckiest I have ever felt in my life, I received a text ending my relationship. My cloud turned black, my luck vanished once again, and everything inside of me stopped.

It felt as if I was sat in a world with no breath, no life, and no happiness. Those tickets that I just won turned into irrelevant words on a screen; everything I’d just screamed and cried for seemed irrelevant and useless. It was like none of it ever existed.

I stayed in my bed for the next four days. I hated waking up, I hated those few seconds where you open your eyes and you’re completely unaware of your feelings and within a few seconds after, it feels as if the roof above you is falling in, suffocating you and you have no other choice than to just let it win.

If it wasn’t for winning those Katy tickets, I’d have probably laid in that bed until I was accompanied by cartoon-like green wisps and flies buzzing around me. Those tickets saved me from myself.
If I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed for something, then it would have been Katy.

I didn't really tell anybody about my break up. My Mum, my housemates and my friend that I was going to see Katy with were the only ones that knew, mostly because they had to. It was the reason that I was how I was, I didn't want them to worry, I just wanted them to understand.

On September 30th 2013, I got out of my bed, got dressed, rediscovered the miracle of eye make-up, and took myself off to the train station where I rode first class down to London and finally began to enjoy something.

I'm not going to review the show, I'm not going to preach about what she said, what she did, or even discuss about meeting her afterwards, I just want to introduce you, or reintroduce you, to this song, because it changed my life.

Never has a song hit me so hard at just the right time.
I don't care how cheesy, how stereotypical of a "fangirl", how lame this sounds when I say that Katy saved me. Because she did, she really did. She saved me from myself and she saved me from what I would have become if I went back home and crawled straight back into my bed.
She made me put one foot in front of the other.

And here I am today.
I'm still torn, I still hurt sometimes, I still miss my ex and I'm still scared to develop feelings for anything other than whatever fluffy creature is introduced into my life.

One year later and what I once felt was impossible has happened. I can be happy, I can feel something other than an aching heart, and I can understand that memories can sometimes be missed more than the person. I love my friends more than anything in the world and I know that when I hurt, I can nip into their rooms to sit with them for a bit, and I am guaranteed to laugh and to smile and be taught endlessly that strength comes from within myself. Strength comes from getting off my bum and deciding that today is my day.

Today, I will not allow you to hurt me, I will not let you occupy my thoughts for longer than five minutes. Today, I am stronger than ever, and today, I will appreciate myself more than you did.

I won those tickets for a reason. I won those tickets because my little Wanda or Cosmo knew that I needed to hear that song first, because that song is what I needed to save myself.
Katy did save me. But I saved myself more. I found the strength and I kicked my own ass. I hurt, I really damn hurt, but I wasn't going to be defeated by love. I am my own forever, and my ex was lucky to be part of it, as I was theirs. But life goes on, life isn't forever.

People talk and talk about how life is short, but it is the longest thing you will ever know. In the huge wider perspective of things, yes, it's short, but you have time. You have the longest amount of time that you will ever know, and if you need a year, two years, three years, to let your heart heal and to find yourself, to love yourself, and to move on, you take that time.
There is no rush. There is only you and your time in this world. Yes, it'd be absolutely lovely if my heart had healed, if I had regained trust and if I was completely over my ex. Man, it'd be beautiful. But I'm willing to be patient and to allow myself to reach that moment where I can finally say 'oh my gosh, I haven't thought about you in a week!' - those moments will be the ones where I know that I can finally say that I made it through and became stronger than ever.

"I know I am enough, possible to be loved"

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