Imprints...

There's this place I know, down by the river near where I live. 

It's just a bench, surrounded by reeds and grasses that stretch up out of the ground and reach toward the midday sun, but from here, you can see everything. 

You can watch the river spiral out in front of you as you sit, watch the boats glide along its glassy surface and watch people walking alongside it, following it until they become black dots in the distance. 

From here, you can watch but you are not seen. 

Now this place, its not particularly special, but to me its one place where I can think.
I found this bench with a boy. He's nothing special to me now but the feeling I had when we found it still lingers there. It hangs in the air around it, warm and sweet, the atmosphere seeping into your skin. Its the feeling of once feeling loved.

Its funny how places harbor memories like this. Everyone has a place, be it a headstone, an old chair or even a gnarled old tree, that they go to so that they can feel how they felt in a different time. 

Everywhere we touch we leave imprints, little pieces of us, scattered around the world just waiting for the moment that we will return to feel them again. It's something that fits, like sliding your hands into a leather glove. It's feeling that familiarity and that completeness of coming full circle and arriving back at the place you once left. 

I know I will visit that bench for the rest of my life. I see myself as an old woman, my walker rattling along the footpath while one of my grandchildren supports me with a firm grip under my elbow, fighting off the grasses and reed with frail, veined hands and sitting down on the bench to watch the sun sink over the crystal surface of the river. And I'll feel that feeling all over again. Young, loved, without a care in the world. And I'll feel good to know that no matter how old, fat or cynical I get, that little girl will always be inside me...somewhere. 

Dear Me, Aged 15

Dear Me,
Right now, you probably feel like your whole world is a mess. Everything around you seems to be crumbling and you're feeling lost and completely alone in the world.
I'm here to tell you that things will get better.
That boy you think you're in love with, you're not. Give it a month or so and you won't be speaking to him anymore at all. Scary, I know. I won't lie to you, my little self, its going to hurt like a bitch. You're going to have some of the lowest lows over these next few months as you find out about all the things he's done and lied about. BUT, you will be okay. There will be a lot of tearful phonecalls and dramatic arguments, but you will get through it. You will feel like you will never be able to forgive him but give it a few months. He'll come back and be a better friend than you ever thought he could.
As for Nan, get yourself down to that hospital NOW. Stop being a arrogant kid and pretending that you have more important things to do than see her. In a month of so, you're going to have to be strong for your family and you can't do that when you're feeling guilty.
Love every minute of your upcoming BTEC shows. They are the happiest you will feel in a long while. Have confidence in yourself because there is a lot of people watching who think you're amazing. Make sure you never lose sight of your dreams either, because things like relationships and trying to fit in with the cool crowd won't last forever. And I'll let you in on a secret, by next year they'll be your best friends anyway. So don't stress about it!
The last thing I'll tell you is that you really don't need to worry about anything. You're too scared all the time and you have no need. You have amazing people around you that won't be running away any time soon. You'll come to realise that when you look back, this is the time of your life you should have been enjoying while you could. Give it a few years and you won't have this freedom anymore. So live every second of it, because if I could do it all over again, I would.
I'll be seeing you soon...in three years precisely...
From
You x

End of an Era

So, uni is coming to an end for my first year and I can't help but feel reflective. This time last year I was someone completely different, I couldn't switch on an oven, let alone understand the mysterious workings of a washing machine. Now, I'm almost independant and I'm someone else.
This last year has been eventful. I've made mistakes, I've fallen in love, I've had my heart broken more times than I want to count and I've picked myself up every time. I've learnt that things like trust are overrated, that people are definitely not always who you think they are. I've seen people change from something perfect to something I can't even stand to look at. I've had to learn that some people are not worth the effort and that letting go isn't always a bad thing. There's all sorts of new games I've learnt too: the boat, fingers, fuck you and snap (not the version I was used to). I've witnessed more sick and hangovers than any nurse and I've suffered only two myself.
I've felt the happiest I've ever felt and the saddest too. I've hit all new highs and ever lower lows. My defensive shell is now always on up and I beginning to wonder whether I will actually ever go back to being normal again.
As for actual learning, I think I can safely say that being a fresher is NOT intended to educate you in whatever subject you are taking, its to prepare you for the shit you're going to go through for the next two years.
All things said and done, I wouldn't change much. However, if I was given the oppurtunity to give myself one bit of advice last september before we started, it would be this:
Don't spend so much time thinking about the mistakes you are bound to make. Enjoy the ride and make sure you get straight back on it when its all over.


Thank you university. £40 pounds an hour for pain, misery, heartache, hunger, poverty, one night stands, hangovers and chundering. Well worth the money, I think!

Overcoming Difficulties

Today, I was introduced to the magical world of Angel Cards.
For those of you who dont know what Angel Cards are, they're cards (obviously) with messages on them. You ask the deck of cards a question, shuffle and pick. Hopefully you get something that will relate back to your question. If you dont, your brain will tell you it should fit and you'll jump to a logical conclusion. Basic psychology.
Anyway, this Angel Card said 'The worst is now behind you and you are surmounting any previous challenges.' Well. Considering the question I asked was about a problem I am CURRENTLY having, this wasn't much use. However, it sparked a rather interesting conversation...
You see, my life is full of drama. And I don't mean in a 'oh my gosh, my iphone won't recieve texts!' kind of way. Any situation that could potentially go wrong, will go wrong. Its just a simple fact of the 'Sophie' condition. When I read my card out and turned my nose up at it, I got the response..
'Yeah, but if your life wasnt full of drama, you wouldnt be happy anyway...'
So. True.
I may complain an awful lot about the crap I go through on a day to day basis, but I wouldnt have it any other way. I'd rather inflict the pain on myself than I would choose anyone else to go through it.
I'm so selfless. And modest. Obviously.
Anyway, none of this matters. I spoke to my Dad (a hippy) earlier and he told me I was using the cards wrong, hence the confusing reading. Something about tapping the cards before I shuffled to knock the last question out of them.
Sceptical about Angel Cards?
Definitely.
Did it stop me buying a pack for myself?

No. No it didn't.

'A poem, how nice.'

For those of you who didn't get the reference, I was actually quoting the film 'Matilda'. If you haven't seen it, you haven't lived.
But no, this post, believe it or not, is not actually about a girl who can control things with her mind powers (if you haven't seen it, I'm sorry. I just ruined the plot). Its actually about poetry.
When I first started at uni, I had literally told everyone how much I was dreading having to write the evil that is poetry. For me, I'd grown up with the concept that poems were all about being totally and completely in love or having abusive parents. I have neither, so immediately thought 'I'm going to do so crap on that module.'
BUT saying that, I have slightly been proven wrong. If you asked me now, I'd probably choose poetry over prose without hesitation. Saying that makes me feel a little bit like I'm cheating on prose, because I've always said that's what I'm best at, but things change I suppose.
Even strict form (something I was dreading more than anything) turned out to be okay. I wouldn't choose to write like that normally, but somehow I muddled through and ended up actually enjoying it. I guess that's what creative writing is all about though. Even when you're an established writer, people label you and say 'oh you're a novelist' or 'you're a poet', and when I started, I thought that you would just stick to whatever you're best at. But again, I've been proven wrong. Turns out you can actually be a writer and be good at more than one style of writing...
Wow. I have actually learnt something at uni. Who'd have thought it?

You know you're too tired when...

Last night, I couldn't sleep. So I thought to myself, what's the best possible use of my time at half past two in the morning? Obviously, cleaning my room, or so my brain thought. 

Now I've woken up and I don't remember where I put anything. For example, my sock drawer seems to have moved from my wardrobe and they are all hanging on the drying rack. Why this is, I have no idea. The only logical explanation would be that I felt one damp sock and felt the need to dry them all out again. Either that, or I really should have been asleep at 2AM...

I also have a habit of never taking my glasses back to the kitchen after I've had a drink. Yesterday, there were probably about three glasses in here, now I can't see any. Must have had a late night trip to the kitchen, not that I remember it. I'm dreading going in there, if I'm honest. After the sock incident, who knows what kind of havoc I could have caused in a room with so many utensils and crockery. Really, I'm lucky to be alive. 

So what have we learnt from this? That cleaning in the early hours is never a good plan? Well, yes and no. Because despite the fact that I have no idea where anything is in my room, for the first time in weeks, I can actually see what colour the carpet is.

Letting Go...

Letting go of something is never easy. I don't mean in the cliched, romantic way as such, just in general.
For example, last time I went home I was tidying my room (yes, it does happen occasionally) and I knocked a box off my shelf. Out of it fell these two tiny little shoes. Doodles, they were called. Bright blue with little white painted flowers on them. I must have had them since I was five, but somehow I could never get rid of them. They're pretty ruined now. There's mud stains over the flowers and the toes are so scuffed that the blue material underneath is beginning to show through. Mum told me to throw them out, but somehow, I just couldn't.
Now, I have no memories attached to these Doodles, but there's something in the way that they looked up at me sadly out of the little battered box, that made me close the lid and put them back on the shelf. I suppose its the same in life though. Sometimes, you can think you have no emotional attachment to something, but as soon as you try and cut it out of your life, you realize you can't.
Its just that feeling that your life is somehow going to be less without it, even if it is just throwing away a pair of shoes. I suppose you can't get rid of things like that, because one day you know you're going to find it again, and be reassured that whenever you look for it, it will always be there.