my home away from home.

It's strange to think the last time I updated this I was in Spain. Now I'm at university, sat in my bedroom at ten to three in the morning finding it hard to sleep.

It was hard, leaving my sister. She cried down the phone at me whilst I was in the queue waiting to board my flight, and that was terrible. Then, soon after, I had to leave Elliot. A few days after that, my mother left. And that was that, I was left to resume my life in the most different of ways, having no clue what to do or who to talk to and it felt like my first day at school in Spain. Everyone was speaking this alien language, and I felt so alone. Yet this time, I was with people that had all moved away from home, we had something we could all relate to, and everyone felt alone in their own way.
My flat is on the top floor, giving me the most amazing view from my room and living room. I have my own bathroom, and I was miraculously given a double bed even though the system told me I was only getting a single.   Not going to lie here, my room here is nicer than the room I have in Spain, and the bed is a lot comfier too. 
It's been nearly a month since I've seen my mum, my sister and my boyfriend. Luckily, in 9 days, I shall be reunited with both Ciara and Elliot and I have never been so excited about anything before in my life.
It's so strange opening my door to a vast hallway that echos and going into a kitchen that doesn't constantly smell of my mother's cooking. It's peculiar not getting affectionately attacked by my dogs like they haven't seen me in an eternity every morning. I also miss my cat. 
I find myself cuddling with my childhood teddy Catnap every night when I go to sleep, and the large void in my bed is something that I cannot ignore as much as I try. 
The hardest thing is every weekend, watching students drag behind them small suitcases as they go home for the weekend. This also happens with my flatmates, meaning I'm alone most weekends. I'm not exactly alone, there is one other flatmate who is from London, but we don't talk after he told me I was "fucking disgusting" for being bisexual and he keeps stinking out the flat with his vile drug habits. So yes, I am on my own most weekends.
Course wise, I am loving being a trainee journalist. Our class is small, as the 18 (including me) that attend these lectures were selected from 650 applicants. That made me feel kind of special. Our tutors are also lovely, one of them peculiar, but that makes him more interesting to listen to in my opinion.

I shall leave you with a few photos. Until next time...

My flatmates (minus the one I don't like) treating ourselves to a domino's.

Night time view from my bedroom.

Sunset from the living room.

on the move.

So here I am, sat on my windowsill, looking into a bare shell which I call my bedroom. The desk is empty, the walls are no longer plastered with train tickets, receipts, stickers, photos and letters. My wardrobe is bare, except for the hundreds of stuffed toys which will be left here. This time tomorrow, I shall be in England, and I won't be coming back.

It's strange really. I have spent most of my life here, desperately wanting to move back. But now the day has come, the past two years of hard work have led me to this moment, and I am scared. To think I'm going to wake up in my new home, and not hear the clatter of my mother's heels as she rushes round the house getting ready for work, or getting greeted by my dogs Tilly and Kobi. I'm not going to be able to go to my sister's window for a cigarette whilst we watch funny videos on youtube. I'm not going to have the life that I have grown up with. I am going to step into this country, and know that I will never live in Spain again. I will never live with my mum and my sister again. I'll be the daughter who comes and visits most holidays, the sister "who lives in England".

I'm completely and utterly procrastinating at the moment. I've smoked far too much and I have two suitcases filled to the brim with clothes and personal belongings. I am dreading the moment, when everything is set and I am stood in my new home with my boyfriend and my mum and knowing they're going to leave and I'm not going to see them for a few months or so. That moment where I'm going to have to say goodbye.

I should get back to packing. Blah.

I am so depressing at the moment. I should be thinking about this as the beginning of a new chapter in my life! New people and new places await me!

I am thinking like that. Just the other half of me is absolutely terrified. 

unsettled & excited.

Last night I slept for five hours and woke up to the sound of extremely heavy rain. It was a bit of a shock, considering it is late august. But oh my god, I have never been so happy to see rain in my life. Instead of waking up in a sweat, I woke up cold and wanting a cup of tea. It felt like winter and that was so refreshing.

The only problem with the rain was the fact that the water went off, and my hair was verging on dreadlocks. I hadn't had a shower in three days and was desperately in need of one. Don't get me wrong, me not getting a shower in a number of days isn't a regular occurence. But on this occasion, it happened and every single one of my curls felt rock solid. Delightful.

As you can probably tell, my day has been rather uneventful. My mum came home after staying at a friends for a cocktail party, and wouldn't let me do anything so I could spend time with her, which I thought was kind of cute as we hadn't really seen much of eachother since my dad was over.

Tomorrow Elliot comes back from his holiday to Norway and I can't wait to see him. Hopefully he gets here as early as possible so he can sleep with me until I wake up. It is always the best thing ever waking up to see him there. As lame and cliché as that sounds...

Nine days until I leave Spain. Two weeks until I move to Leeds.
GAAAAHHHHH.

the ghost of emma's past.

These past few weeks have felt like I'd taken a seat on the double dipper at Blackpool Pleasure beach and never gotten off. I am officially emotionally and physically drained, yet something tells me it's not the end yet.

My dad decided to show himself after two years of 5 minute phone conversations, gramatically incorrect text messages and the occasional facebook poke. I didn't know what to feel when I heard an alien car pull up outside. My window facing the road, I stood froze to the spot in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear as I saw the bald-headed figure getting out of the vehicle and opening the gate. I crawled across the floor, put on some shorts and leapt out of my window. Luckily I didn't hurt myself, and I wish I could have told myself that the tears I was crying as my father hugged me weren't going to be the only tears I would shed in the upcoming weeks.

It was so strange having him here. Sat in my garden sunbathing, making him dinner, walking into the kitchen to see him doing the dishes. Even when he slept over (my mother stayed with her boyfriend at a friend's house on these occasions) it was weird saying goodnight to him and knowing that was asleep in the room next to me. Surreal, even.

I never let it get to me though. Well I did, but in the confines of my own bedroom, when I was alone and could cry without being judged or people feeling pity for me. You see, that is what I hate. If I get upset over my dad and my mother sees, she won't let it go. It's like its some miraculous discovery that I have emotions.

But now he's gone, and as he said goodbye to my sister and I, he cried. But I didn't cry at all. It's strange really. It's like I have perfected not publicly displaying emotion. But as I watched him drive away, I knew I wasn't going to see him for many more years to come.

I go to university in 2 weeks today. I am so excited about it, but at the same time I am dreading leaving. My mother and my sister are going to be fine, but I'm scared about Elliot. I never want to leave him on his own. I want to be able to see him everyday and sleep in his bed and him in mine. I don't want that to stop. I'm going to miss him more than anything. Even writing this is making me want to cry...

Sometimes I wish I just didn't have emotions/feelings. It'd make life so much easier. 

sorry.

considering i have only one follower, I don't really know why I'm saying sorry. But I am sorry to myself for not keeping up with this blogging like I promised myself I was going to. I've been at Elliot's house for a number of days so it slipped my mind.

I've had such a good few days at Elliot's. I found an obsession for Yoshi on Elliot's Nintendo DS, which had me shamefully occupied for quite a few hours of the day. I tried fish for the first time in 10 years, as we went to the fish and chip shop in a town called Jalón. I'm not going to lie, I really enjoyed it. I guess I'm a pescatarian now, fabulous.

Anyway, I'm home now and quite enjoying my alone time. I've been looking into what I should get for my mother's  birthday. She originally wanted a Kindle, but ultimately decided, after trying her friend's, she didn't like it, so I've been stuck on what to get her. She is quite a sentimental person, so I've been thinking about getting her a personalized photo album and filling it with photos and putting notes and memories inside it. I think I'm going to go with that.

I guess that is all for now. (: 

free lunch.

I'm heading out in about half an hour to go for lunch with Elliot, and I have zero funds so he's paying for me, woo. Stole a top from my sister's wardrobe (I bought it for her so technically it's mine).

Yep, thats pretty much as interesting my day get's haha. God, I'm so good at this blogging stuff...

Oh, and today is one of those days where I can't stop sneezing. Meh. 

university blues.

If there is one thing I can't get out of my mind, it's results day. I have never dreaded a day so much in my life. The fact that that day, I will be finding out the results of my A Levels that pretty much determine the rest of my life. I need 280 UCAS points to get into the university I have chosen (Leeds Met to do Journalism), and I need at least 180 out of that from two A Levels. I took two A Levels (Performing Arts and Spanish) and two AS' (English Language and Global Perspectives). On top of this, I took a drama exam in november which gave me 65 UCAS points which is good. 

I think I've done well in my A Levels, despite the nightmare I had with my Performing Arts teacher (she was inconsistent and so unhelpful beyond belief). The only thing is, I also need my maths GCSE, which to date, I have failed twice. I just can't do it. I've retaken it again this year, but I'm still not sure whether I've passed it. 

The day is getting closer and closer and it's terrifying me. I want to go to university so badly, I've always wanted to live on my own and be independent and have my own life. Plus, getting away from my bickering mother and sister would be so great, even though I'd miss them both.

Then there's everything with Elliot. I've been with him for nearly a year now and leaving him is going to be heartbreaking. We're still undecided about whats going to happen, but I think we both know that we're going to give it a try. He's got another year of A Levels yet. I can't wait to see him tomorrow, we're going to go to the chippy on the beachfront and it's going to be lovely. 

Today it's rained for the first time in months and as soon as I heard it I ran outside faster than you could say "cock". I just stood there for ages, sometimes it feels like I live in sahara desert or something.

Even thought I'm feeling a bit nervous about all this university stuff, I know Elliot is going to cheer me up, and I can't wait. 

Elliot and my little sister.