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Becoming Unstuck

Dear Diary,

I need to write this down. I don’t ever want to forget the best 3 weeks of my short life so far. I never planned to travel to New Zealand. I mean I had just gotten back from 2 months travelling Europe while on a Contiki. That trip was planned. New Zealand wasn’t. It was completely impulsive and disorganised. One minute I was chatting in the Contiki group chat about prices of flights and cheap places to travel to. Then the next thing I know  I am sitting on my laptop with the Jet-star web page open and I’ve booked 3 weeks to NZ. 28th of December 2017 until the 17th of January 2018. At the time it seemed like plenty of time, but now I wish I had forever there.

I originally planned to travel around with Emma, a girl from my Contiki who previously lived in NZ, for a week or so. While the other half would be spent with my NZ family.  And I guess I did that… but I feel like I did so much more. I think in those 3 weeks I begun to find myself away from home. Especially after feeling so stuck in Melbourne for so long. I mean I have been working the same job for 4 years. Don’t get me wrong I love my job and the people I work with, but there is only so long I can work in food hospitality. 4 years I’ve been there. Ever since I was 16. Every weekend. Every night but Tuesday.

My life was in a rut.

I never truly got to be a teenager. While everyone my age was going out, even simply hanging out with each other, forming life long friendships, making memories to tell their children one day, I was working. Okay, I know I shouldn’t be complaining. I am damn lucky to have a job and a life, but I wasn’t truly living. Mum suggested the yesterday the reason I have fallen in love with travelling so much is because I got the chance to experience everything I missed out on in my high school years.

Maybe she was right. Mother’s usually are.

But I think the reason I loved New Zealand so much was because of a boy… A young man I should say.

Doesn’t it always come down to a guy?

So fucking cliche. I know. But don’t judge me. You may understand… or maybe you won’t. That’s okay.

But you didn’t get to meet him. You didn’t get to feel the way he made me feel. You didn’t feel the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips. Or his lips against yours. And you sure as hell didn’t get to see the way he looked at me. With those piercing eyes.

He made me feel good about myself. Something that I haven’t felt in a long time. He made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

And no, not sexy or hot… but beautiful. Which is something completely different I have learned. And every girl should be made to feel like that at least once in her life.

So, Diary, I just want to thank him. Thank him from the bottom of my heart. I may never see him again and that is okay. You want to know why? Because him along with the other incredible people I met in New Zealand have made me realise there is a whole lot more to life than working and simply existing.

So, thanks to him and New Zealand I think I might slowly be becoming unstuck.

With hope, Sticky Girl 🙂

Pretty Smile

Green is my new favourite colour,

Your name is my favourite two syllables.

Without you life gets a little duller,

But I can’t help but feel I am a fool… simply gullible.

Don’t believe the boy with a pretty smile,

It only make the silky smooth words easier to swallow.

Slowly they start to taste bitter and vile,

Words to me are only hollow.

But this is not your fault,

I blame the boy from my past.

The boy with a pretty smile.

For his words were an assault,

No not physical, just on my heart, but they were the last.

The last for me to believe from a boy with a pretty smile,

The last boy to feed me sickening lies and then wonder why I am sick.

But he is a different boy under a different file,

Which is why it is you I still pick.

Despite your pretty smile.

So, green is still my favourite colour,

And your name is still my favourite two syllables.

Please don’t prove me wrong and become the new last boy with a pretty smile.

… and green eyes

By Sticky Girl

Lessons of a Magician

Dear Diary,

I want to tell you a story about a great magician. A magician that most of you may already know. They may not have the same name or same face or be the same person. But that’s the greatest trick of all. This magician could be anyone. It could be you… hell it could even be me.

My magician went by the name of Jayden. He was charming and kind. Still is in a way. He made me feel incredible but at the very same time he made me doubt myself. When instead I should have been doubting his magic tricks. You see, Diary, I didn’t know he was a magician. I had known him my whole life. I thought that counted for something. I thought we were friends. And you don’t trick your friends, do you?I was young and naive though. Only sixteen. I let him fill my head with lies and false promises. I let myself become a dirty little secret because I thought that one day he would love me. You know he told me that one day he would want to marry me… but only after he got his party days out of his system. How stupid was I to actually believe that bullshit? I was so fucking naive.

I think… I think I may have actually loved him. Or at least what I thought was love at the time. And maybe it was because of that that I gave him something I can never get back. I gave him my virginity. Something I wanted to be special with the right guy. It hurt… and not just physically. Because as I was lying there with him above me I realised something. I wasn’t ready for this. I let myself be pressured into this because I thought it would make him want to stay with me.

But that wasn’t his magic trick, you see. After. After he got what he wanted he pulled a grand vanishing act. Poof into thin air. There one second and gone the next. Hiding in the bed of another girl. Onto his next act. I couldn’t understand it at the time. I tried to hold onto him. Wait for him to come back. But then I realised something. I wasn’t different than all those other girls he was with. I wasn’t the one. I was only a challenge for him. Another notch on his belt.

Jayden the Great Fucking Magician.

And yet I still couldn’t hate him no matter how much I wanted to.

It took me a while to move on. To finally understand the magic of it all. That it wasn’t really magic… but in fact he was just an asshole. He wasn’t charming. He wasn’t kind. He was a smooth talker with a cute smile.

He wasn’t the one for me.

I deserved so much better. I know that now. But I learnt from my mistakes. I know better now. I know that looks are deceiving and I can’t believe everything a guy tells me. But yet here I am. Still wearing my heart on my sleeve despite what my head tells me.

I haven’t let him ruin me. Simply teach me.

With no magic tricks, Sticky Girl.

Being Selfish

Dear Diary,

What do you do when everything seems to be falling apart around you? No matter how hard I try and sticky tape everything together it just doesn’t seem to work. Nothing seems to hold it in place. The cracks are still so ever present.

I have finally started to try and do things that make me happy. But it just seems to make everyone else around me unhappy. I can’t seem to win. I want to be selfish. I don’t care how bad that sounds. Sometimes it’s good for you. Good for me. I need to make time to do things in life that I want to. And I make no apologises for that. But yet I’m always saying sorry. Sorry for being me. Why?

I thought things were going good for me. I finally had a plan for what I wanted to do with my life. I am going to move overseas. Somewhere warm preferably. Somewhere where the people are nice. Somewhere other than here. Just away. It isn’t a perfect plan. Far from it. But it’s something. Though being myself isn’t easy. I am constantly met with road blocks. By those I thought would be by my side holding my hand. Instead they are simply holding me back.

I simply want friends that will be there for me when I need them. Even when I don’t say a word. A simple ‘Hey, how are you going?’ would be so fucking nice. But I don’t get that. I get excuses. I get everyone else’s burdens placed on me. I get ignored. I get ‘Hey, guess what happened with me today?’… ‘What do I do about this?’… I get fucking used.

And I allow it. Because I simply want everyone to be happy. To feel heard. To have someone to be there for them. But when I’m facing problems in my life no one seems to be there. And when I try to start voicing how I’m feeling… I end up being the one who apologises. It’s messed up.

And I’m fucking over it.

So guess what? I’m going to be selfish. And ain’t no body going to be holding me back. Because whether it makes anyone else happy or not doesn’t matter. What matters is how it makes me feel. And doing this… doing what I have always wanted… is making me happy. Genuinely happy. And excited. I haven’t been this excited in so long.

Yes, I know it isn’t going to be easy. And I know it will take time to get there. And yes, I will probably fall down a few times trying to get there but that’s okay. Shit happens and we learn from it. If I have to say goodbye to a few ‘friends’ to get there then I’m okay with that. I’m okay to let go of things so that I can finally be me.

So here’s to me. Here is to endless possibilities and wherever that may take me. Here is to the great world that I can’t wait to see. Here is to the chance of love and pure happiness.

Here is to finally getting the chance to be free.

With selfishness, Sticky Girl x

Silver Lining of Love

Dear Diary,

Loving someone is possibly the hardest thing to do. You balance a tricky line of whether you love them too much or not enough. I always believed that. That love was never equal. That in relationships, relationships of all types, there was the loved and the lover. Two people trying to find a balance but never quite finding it.

I was always a lover.

I mean I know I’m loved. Deeply and immensely by all those I hold to dear to me. But I could never fathom how someone could love me as much as I loved them. But I always knew… know that I am loved back. In whatever degree that was. And that’s okay with me. I understood this.

But what happens when the scales of love break? When there is no balance? But instead a lover and a user.

My darling, crazy, moody, loyal, and beautiful older sister is also a lover. But she only ever falls for the broken. The ‘fixable’. She use to say to me “I always liked the bad boys. They make me feel needed.” There is so much wrong with that that I don’t even know where to start. Being needed is not the same as being loved. I thought she would have learnt that by now.

Isn’t getting your heart broken suppose to make you careful the next time round?

I am a careful lover. But my sister, Lani, loved without boundaries. She recklessly fell in love. But never with the right man. It’s a beautiful flaw that I can’t help but hate. For what hurts her… hurts her son… hurts my mother… hurts my other sister… which hurts me. It’s a cycle of pain that we all share but can’t break without breaking Lani.

Family bond. It’s a love like no other.

So… when Lani started to date this guy. I was worried. I knew the kind of person he was. An abuser, a drunk, and a drug user. But he convinced her that he was a changed man. That it was a thing of his past. That it was all his ex’s fault. She pushed him to be that person. He could never be that way with Lani. He ‘loved’ her too much. Lani was different, he would say. Lani believed it.

I did not.

I tried to warn her. I really did. I told her to be careful. That she deserved so much more. That her son deserved so much more. I told her that he wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t good enough for anyone. I tried to tell her that it was better to be alone than to settle for a guy like that.

But Lani simply wanted to be loved.

Doesn’t everyone?

I wish I was wrong about him. I really do. Because I just want her to be happy. But I was right. Slowly his true colours started to come out. First it was the drinking. Then it was the arguments. The emotional abuse. The abuse she won’t admit to. But he made her doubt her worth. Belittled her. And then finally came the drug use.

I wish I could say this is the first time a guy abused Lani in this way. But it’s not. What I can hope though is that it’s the last.

When they finally broke up… when everything blew up. I was secretly happy. Ecstatic. He was gone. And she was hurt but she wasn’t broken.

And then came the hard part. I’m not suppose to know. I haven’t even breathed a word of it to anyone. Until now. I can’t keep it to myself. It’s eating away at me. I don’t know how to help. I don’t know how to protect her from this. To protect my nephew from this. You’re the only one I can trust with this secret.

Lani is pregnant.

I should be happy for her. Having another child was not something I thought would happen for her. She has always struggled. Had so many health problems. But she is pregnant to that disgrace of a human being. I still have no idea what she is going to do. I think she wants to keep the baby. It might be her last chance to have another one. But I can’t help but think why him?

Why?

I don’t want to loose my sister to a life of abuse. My mother barely escaped. How will Lani?

I know Lani never understood the difference between loving and needing. But what she doesn’t know is that she is loved. It might not be in the way she always imagined. But every second of every day she is loved.

I just hope she realises that before it’s too late.

With love, Sticky Girl x

Apology Unnoticed

Dear Diary,

I think Emma is mad at me. Okay. Think is the biggest understatement of the year. I know she is. I think ignoring my messages was a dead give away. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been good with confrontation.

It’s been a couple weeks since she left New Zealand for bigger and better things. And we have barely spoken since. Which is odd. Now I know you’re probably thinking stop being dramatic. I am over reacting. But you don’t know Emma.

She is one of a kind.

I first got to know her on a beach in Barcelona. It was a beautiful day and the beach was jam packed. We were practically sitting on top of the people next to us. It was us and 3 other girls. But Emma had an irrational fear of the water. I guess she still does… but on this day it kind of disappeared.

She got in the water and was so proud of herself. I felt privileged to be a part of this special memory for her. And with what were complete strangers at the time. At this moment in the Contiki we were still only getting to know each other. But friendships were developing quickly. And I think both Emma and I began ours there. After all we were in an amazing country for the first time. I mean what a place to begin to overcome fears.

Barcelona.

But it was what transpired as we all laid on the beach in our bathers. We talked. All of us. For what seemed like hours. About everything and nothing all at once. I felt as though I had known these people, known Emma, my whole life. Emma was the opposite of me. She was confident and radiant. She is the kind of girl you can’t help but notice. There was no blending in for her. She stood out in a crowd and I welcomed it.

I have never been that girl. At least I never felt like it. But between travelling to Europe and then New Zealand, especially with Emma, I slowly started to embrace who I am… who I want to be. I felt different. I acted different. I was me.

Emma is easy to talk to. I haven’t even known her a year and she has seen me at my worst. And I like to believe I have seen Emma at her worst as well. New Zealand was a rocky road for us… but that story is for another day.

Right now I am just trying to process how we went from Barcelona to barely talking. I mean I know why which makes it that much harder, because I don’t want to have to choose.

It’s that guy I was telling you about the other day. The one I can’t stop thinking about. The one I could never regret being with for that short amount of time. But yet being with him put Emma in an awkward position. A position where she has to let go of past friendships and embrace new ones…

I need to stop there. This makes me sound terrible. Like I chose a guy over my friend. But I didn’t, Diary. I could never do that.

Let me just state for the record that she was okay with me and him. She actually seemed happy about it. They never dated or had anything between them, because I know that’s what you’re thinking. I just don’t think I handled the situation in the best way possible. Like I said I’m shit with confrontation. And I take full responsibility for that.

So let me explain. Emma had a best friend named Stacey. It was rocky friendship from what I understood. Not the greatest but still good. But it recently went downhill. Hence why I said she ‘had’ a best friend. As in past tense. And well, Diary, Stacey use to date this guy I’ve been telling you about. Not just casually date but it was a long term serious relationship. But that also went downhill.

I think you can see where this is going.

So you have Emma, Stacey and this guy, a little broken up trio… and then there is me. Not really fitting in but making for an awkward situation for Emma. A situation that would have been fine if I wasn’t me.

Someone who feels bad about things I shouldn’t. Someone who apologises uncontrollably but in the awkwardest way possible. Someone who struggles to talk about anything guy related. Someone who didn’t do anything wrong but yet still manages to act like I have. Someone who finally did something that made me happy and apologise for it. Basically, I dug myself a hole I couldn’t get out of. And damn did I try.

I’ve apologised. Genuinely apologised. In those ridiculous long messages that you can’t help but notice apologised way.

Yet nothing. Absolutely nothing.

So Diary, what do I do?

How do I gain back a friend I haven’t even know a year but feels like I’ve known a lifetime?

Let’s hope I can figure this out before it’s too late.

With regretful regret, Sticky Girl.