Aqueduct, viaduct, tear duct. I always think of Roman(ce) when I cry.
Life goes up
and life goes down. And that is just how it goes.
I am happier and calmer than what I have been in a long time and it is wonderful.
It’s valentines day and I wake up next to him in North London. We’ve gone home to his parents over the weekend just to get a bit of a break from uni. For once. None of us have done any work whatsoever and it’s been so nice.
We’ve decided that we’re not actually doing anything for valentines because it is a little overrated and I was thinking that if he would actually do something usually considered ‘romantic’ such as giving me a big bouquet of roses and chocolate I actually wouldn’t know how to react.
Still he says “Oh yeah. Happy Valentines” when he realises what day it is.
We go through the day in a very slow fashion. We go to the cinema with his parents for a showing of The Iron Giant in Crouch End. We go home and spend the rest of the day in bed having naps, doing our separate things on separate computers. After dinner we take the tube to Marylebone Station and catch the train back ‘home’. He brings out the box his mum gave him just before we left and gets to messy vegan chocolate cupcakes out. This is our valentines treat that his mum got for us.
I’m thinking that I so very much prefer something like this rather than going all in for valentines. I don’t like the fact that someone I love gets me something just because he is supposed to get me something because of what day it is.
Something little, something special when you don’t actually expect it is so much nicer, don’t you think?
Both my flatmates and my boyfriend are going away this weekend and I was going to go visit my aunt. I was looking forward to it. For once I could go somewhere and see someone whom I’m related to, just as the non-international students can do any weekend but I can’t because my home is further away than theirs. On Monday my aunt texted me saying she was ill and we decided I should come another weekend instead. I began to come to terms with that I’ll just spend the weekend alone with myself.
Then yesterday on the bus back from campus my bf said I could come back with him if I wanted and I said “Hmmm” and he said “Well you don’t have to be so enthusiastic” and I said “I was just thinking whether I’d actually want to spend the weekend by myself” and he said “Fair enough. Sounds more like something I would do than you though” and I said “Yes but I used to be really good at spending time on my own and then I got worse at it and now I think I’m getting better at it again”.
And then for a while I was caught between spending the weekend on my own to just take it easy by myself or whether I should go home with him to spend time with him and his family.
But then I decided that two full days and two full nights of spending time with him while otherwise we are both quite busy wins over spending the weekend on my own. Especially when I have reading week the week after and will be spending a lot of it on my own in the house anyway.
(And I still know I could have spent the weekend on my own and been fine with it.)
Avocado on toast
Coffee with soya milk and sugar
Toast with jam
Rice cakes with peanut butter
The thing is that I don’t eat enough and have lost weight. Not a lot but enough for me to notice, enough for others to notice and enough for some of my trousers to not fit me. I am not sure I like it because losing weight from under-eating means less energy and less strength. Still, the people who comment (apart from my mother), comment in a positive way. At a party I was recently introduced as “Hey guys, this is Rebecca. She’s got exactly the body that I want”. Why? Because skinny means hot, skinny means happy. Skinny is the norm and the dream.
One of my flatmates is constantly going on about her weight and how if she keeps on eating chocolate she won’t be able to fit through the door. When she sees me wearing something tight she says: “Oh my god you really are skinny” but it is still in a positive light. A girl from my degree asked me about low-calorie food and if I had any advice because she wants to lose weight. I told her: “My problem is that I keep on losing weight. I am rather looking for a high-calorie snack to make sure I get enough”. I felt bad for saying that because since I am skinny, I should be happy with my body. I feel bad admitting to people that are heavier than me and who want to lose weight that I want to gain when it would probably be better for my overall health to do so.
Just because you’re skinny doesn’t automatically mean that you’re healthy, ok?
I was caught out by the most intense rain fall I’ve ever experienced yesterday night as I walked home from my boyfriend’s. In my headphones a song by the Swedish singer Håkan Hellström played. In translation what he sang was “You’ll have to die a few times before you can live” and as I ran up my street through that rain storm I have to say I felt more alive than I have in a long time.