Life, Relationships, Travel

A blog, because I can…

I missed you, let’s chat! Life update, nostalgic drunk phone calls and how to make the perfect matcha latte

Hello! Is this thing on? Can you hear me? Testing…

My babies – it’s been a long fucking time. I am sitting in the sunshine, in my bath towel after one of those very cathartic ‘everything’ showers. Ladies, you know the ones. The whole process. Exfoliation, hair treatments, 32 step skincare regime, slather yourself in moisturiser, all while having multiple conversations with yourself in your head. It’s better than therapy! I’m sitting here gleaming, I have my new iced drink obsession – a matcha latte (more on this later), my hair looks amazing and as I opened my laptop to read the digital newspapers I keep in my favourites tab, I saw you. Sitting there, calling me, waving at me like an old friend in a busy bar we used to frequent and have the best times. And I walked over to you, wrapped you in my arms and said ‘let’s hang out!’ Only I meant it, not like drunk girls in the bathroom you end up following on Instagram but never actually see again. I want us to reconnect.

Just like two low-maintenance friends who only catch up once in a blue moon, I make zero promises about where this impromptu blog will lead. Will I come back for good? I don’t know. Will I post this and fuck off for another 6 months? Likely. My follower count hasn’t diminished since I was here last, so I assume you’ll all still receive the notification that makes your heart leap. The same way it does when an ex-flame sends you an out-of-the-blue text that makes you question your entire life and if you were really doing so well all that time. The truth is, I opened this blog for the first time since December last year and I read everything. I read everything I had written. Re-lived memories that I had either simply forgotten or buried deep in the back of my mind. The force of emotion I once had, was so clear. I was a little girl with some big ol’ feelings and honestly, I miss her. I am numb now, to most things. I haven’t been moved, the way I was moved by that year long tornado, of ups and downs, great blogs and inspiration, since well… the last blog. I haven’t been on a roller coaster, I have been cruising by in what feels like a beat up Honda and I am bored. I’m so fucking bored. Maybe that’s why today of all days I opened this blog and began to write. To illicit some emotion. To start-up something in myself again. To push something out, put the wheels in motion and hope that I’ll jump in the driver’s seat like a Stuntman extraordinaire and drive it somewhere. Where to start?

Tom and I split up. Unsurprising. It’s been six weeks since it happened and I am scarily fine. Like, so fine. It’s got to be a world record for moving on so quickly after a long term relationship. You know that pining and anticipation for them to text post-breakup? I usually feel that. I don’t feel that with Tom. I don’t stare at my phone. Or check his socials. I don’t want to get back together and I’m already excited about moving forward and what the next chapter of my life brings. So to be honest, he isn’t going to get the usual Noir et Blanc treatment where I post an entire blog about how it all went down and why I think this or that. Because I don’t love him anymore. I don’t think I ever really did, if I’m brutally honest. I think I met a guy who really loved me and showed that love so freely and consistently. I think I felt that because he was so good to me, I had to stick by him. Don’t get me wrong, its absolutely imperative you feel safe and consistently loved and adored by your partner and I always felt that way with Tom, but we lacked that… fire. That heat and intoxication you feel when you’re drunk in love with someone and just obsessed with them. I never had that with Tom, not even in the beginning when it’s supposed to be the most heated and passionate time of your relationship. I don’t believe you should have to sacrifice one for the other. I don’t believe passionate, fiery, heated relationships are doomed to fail quickly and I don’t believe successful long-term relationships are just two dependable best friends who sometimes have sex. I believe you have to have both. For me anyway, I need that spark. That undeniable chemistry that consumes me. When I looked at Tom I didn’t think “I have to have him now.” I thought “What the fuck is he wearing?” That is a massive red flag showing, 1) I’m probably a bitch or I have commitment issues and 2) we weren’t meant for each other. Maybe I’m a mug. Maybe I am that girl dying for a Wattpad, Romance Movie type love and my expectations as a writer, romantic and very expressive individual are way too high! But come on, if that kind of love didn’t exist why do we keep writing about it? He’s got to be out there and it’s a hill I am willing to die on. I ain’t trekking back down to Vanilla Town, Blandsville for anyone in my lifetime. I’ll live with my dogs, very happily thank you. Wanna know something that’s really fucking funny though? I got so white girl wasted three weeks ago and you know when you end up in the back of an Uber, contacts list open and you think “fuck it” and you drunk dial your ex? I did that, except it wasn’t my ex… It was Paul. Stop fucking laughing! Oi! I can hear you screaming hysterically right now! I know, ok? I KNOW. Interpret that however you wish. I apparently I woke up that morning and chose chaos, but we’re moving along…

So it’s a beautiful day today. Sun is out, sky is clear. The weather is starting to cool down but proper winter weather seems a bit far off just yet, even for mid April. I’m sitting here fresh as a daisy, eating a leftover spring roll from last night’s Chinese takeout. Cold spring rolls (or egg rolls as the Yanks call them) are legit. Better the next day. I’ve also mastered the perfect Matcha Latte. It’s got to be frothy oat milk, dash of vanilla syrup, shake that up, pour over ice and then add the whisked matcha over the top. The pale matcha green, slowly disturbing the creamy oat milk as it drips its way down to make the most gorgeous little pastel swirl, lights up my morning. Bit sad probably, but I’ve had to find very simple, little things beautiful in my everyday life, because what else have we been left with? Since I last posted a blog, I thought this pandemic would be well and truly over by now. December last year, I couldn’t have imagined we’d still be stuck here. I thought I’d be well and truly back in the UK, so this limbo I, like many others, have found myself in has zapped my lust and zest for most things in life. It’s really scary to think about too because it’s all I want. To be living in England, writing, teaching, striving to become a published author. I do fear however, that because so many people have lost their jobs over there, that me getting any sort of work visa or permanent residency will be quite difficult. Despite this pandemic putting almost a 12 month hold so far on the plans I did have, I still have hope that in 2021/2022 things will go back to normal. Or at least, the new normal – whichever normal means I can resume my life as I had intended. It’s gotten to a point though where I have considered alternate paths. Maybe I’m not supposed to live in England? I find that’s quite a hard pill to swallow, because for so long, my focus and my goals and basically my entire identity has been shaped around the life I envision myself living there. I’ve just been stuck here waiting to become that person, really. And that’s difficult to admit to yourself, that you’ve let life pass you by a bit because I’m still waiting to live it perfectly. I have a very vivid vision of what my life is going to look like when I can get back to England, that I am not really immersing myself in my life in Australia. I find it difficult to be present and enjoy my life here and live it like it doesn’t matter if England is no longer and option. England is the only option and so I haven’t committed to anything – no extra studies, I haven’t learned a new skill or started a business or travelled anywhere in Australia because I wake up everyday hoping that I’m going to get the news. News that says “pack your shit and book a ticket.” While most people are waiting to just be able to go on holiday or go to music festivals again, I feel like I’m legitimately wasting some of my best years, just waiting to live my life perfectly, the way I planned, which is ridiculous because there’s no such thing as living life perfectly. However, it stops me from committing to any alternate move that would likely be far better than where I am currently anyway, simply because it’s just not my plan. I’m someone who has grown up never really knowing what they wanted. I’ve lacked direction and a real sense of purpose for most of my life. Anything I have now or do has sort of just happened to me, I didn’t really sink my teeth into pursuing and achieving anything until now. And so when I finally realised this was what I wanted, to have that taken away and be forced to consider other options or create new plans has been exceptionally hard. Plan B was never a thing… it was difficult enough for me to realise Plan A and commit to that. Then again, perhaps my constant desire and pursuit of an extraordinary life, full of greater things I feel I am destined to do, over a perfectly content life that is perpetually ‘just fine’ is my undoing. Maybe Vanilla Town isn’t that bad of a place to live. I understand how lucky I am, to still have all my loved ones. To still be employed, to live life relatively normal in Australia with no restrictions (bar travel) and to simply, still have a life to live. So, with a switch of perspective I am grateful, but I’m also allowed to be very frustrated. You are too. I hope in whichever way this pandemic has fucked you over, you are finding ways to cope and move on. Virtual hugs and kisses, let me make you a matcha latte?

By the way, if anyone is searching for a productive (NOT) activity to pass the pandemic time that isn’t getting a degree, losing weight or starting a business, I’ll let you know that have immersed myself in the Marvel Universe. Say what now? Any therapist worth the plaque that hangs on their wall would say I am using that as a form of escapism but I don’t need anyone with a degree in Psychology to tell me that, I’m aware. I am not typically very nerdy. Aside from the fact I love books and write but this is a new level of nerd for me. I don’t usually stray from drama or romance type stories either, especially not into fantasy made up Universes derived from Comic Books but here we fucking are. Now, I am too old to create fan accounts and engage in conversations on Reddit about Marvel conspiracies but I have read them and I have watched nearly all the Marvel movies in order, usually after smoking a fat cone (which makes the experience even better, trust me – surround system and munchies on hand, of course) and I will fight anyone who says a bad word about Tony Stark and doesn’t think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man of all time, ok? I am prepared for battle. PS, my twitter is @saralaw_ so, Marvel nerds, hit me up.

That Marvel bit was really out of left-field, but that’s what I’m into right now *shrugs* This blog was mildly depressing but truthful and considering all that, I’m actually ok. We’ve all just got to keep on going. Where that leads – who knows. I’m in the passenger seat of my own life but I can’t take control off the steering wheel until this cloud of pandemic uncertainty blows away. I don’t think that’s an excuse. I think that’s just the reality for so many people, I know I’m not alone. I know I’m not avoiding anything. I know that it’s ok to just ‘wait and see’ sometimes. Even if some, or a lot of time does pass you by where nothing really happens. Life is short only in the end. At 28 years old, I’m know I’m going to be ok. It’s all going to work out and it will for you too, no matter what situation you find yourself in, we’ve got plenty of time left for this to look like a little blip when we look back on our lives. So for now, I’m going to go get changed into some actual clothes, because it’s nearly 2pm and I’ve been sitting out here starving, writing this in my towel. Bit bloody cold now. Might make myself an absolute banger of a sandwich – ok, ok so what you want to do is toast some light rye bread, add Helmann’s mayo to both sides, seasoned avocado, lettuce, pickled jalapeños, Turkey breast, CWISPY bacon *chefs kiss* – and get to my other form of escapism, working on my book. Then, just for shits and giggles, maybe go for a run with my headphones turned up way too loud because that’s another way to just slip away for a bit. If that’s not enough for you though, I strongly suggest gathering your friends and smoking pot. Have a real deep, belly laugh over something really stupid that sober you wouldn’t find funny and then eat some chips before sleeping like a baby – real cosy. If you ask me, that sounds like someone who definitely has their shit worked out to be honest. What was I even worried about?

I might be back, who knows? We’ll see how this goes.

Love, Sara.

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