I want to fight

I want to fight for us. But I’m too scared. He doesn’t want to fight for us…. or maybe he does- maybe he is just too scared as well…. I don’t know what to say; if i blurt it out then I risk making a fool of myself- but maybe, just maybe he needs to know how i really feel.

Its a romantic gesture right? If he doesn’t agree with me, then time to move on…. maybe that’s the closure I need- I’m sick of wondering ‘what could be’


Black Dog

I don’t wish to be melodramatic…. But sometimes that dog is just so big I don’t know what to do.

I’m so tired. So tired of being tired. That’s it. That’s all I can say.

I know I’m reaching out for help but I dont know who to call.

My story, is, as of yet, unwritten.

I super wanted to do some writing to clear my head before I attempted to tackle my assignment. But now I’m not sure. I’m too confused and my mind is too clouded with thoughts to even begin. But, a reflection.

When deciding where to go in life, obviously other people do have an influence. Where do you draw the line between the love you have for someone and the need to be selfish? I’m not chasing an easy, simple or ordinary dream, and I know that, and am OK with it. But i know deep down i need to go off on my own and get it done. I don’t want to create the pain for someone else of not knowing, the pain that ultimately I may feel on a daily basis; and besides; I have always preferred to suffer alone.

I have a decision to make. It won’t be fun, or easy- But either way I feel i’m going to come out of it with a broken heart.

Looking back, at looking forward

Hearing the unmistakable sound of the unraveling tape as my Husband packed up the last box of tableware, i straightened by back and turned to gaze at him. Placing my hands on my ever-expanding hips and adjusting my posture, I keep looking. He doesn’t know I am watching him yet. The way he takes his strong hands and wraps them around the bottom of the box, or the way that his eyes dart about the room, looking for any missed items. As he turns around to grab the keys off the table and yell ‘babe this is it!’, he notices my stare, and gives me his trademark cheeky grin. As we load the last of the boxes into the back of the sedan and lock the doors to the old Victorian house for the last time, my toes start to tingle. This is it. This is the change we have been waiting for. The car glides along the road for the 20km trip as we head west, to our new home, our empty street. 

The thing that appealed to me when we purchased our first home was how green the neighbourhood was. How quiet, and how empty it seemed. It was bliss. As we drive up the still-dirt driveway I shot Joff a playful look, he gazed back at me, biting his lips in what I only assume is the anticipation that I can feel slowly rising in the pit of my stomach. The key slides into the keyhole perfectly, and the door creaks slightly as we wedge it open. Slowly pacing from the front of the house to gaze out the clear back doors I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. We are finally here, in our new home, we have worked for years, and all the hard work has finally paid off. ‘Can you believe we own this place?’ Joff whispers in my ear as he wraps his arms around my stomach, only to be met with kicks by our growing daughter.

‘We are truly grown-ups now, no turning back’, I giggle in response, and turn around to kiss his bitten lips.

With a house of our own and a baby on the way; I can’t wait to see what our future holds.

The musings of a 20 year old student, with the love of her life, and dreaming of a career in International Development.