moving on

Will it be different?

I have had an an odd relationship with (who once was) my best friend since we met. We met when we were like 7, because she was new at school and I was assigned to show her around and be her friend. It worked, we became inseparable. We grew up together, both of us had big issues at home, I never really told her any of mine, but she knew I had some, where she told me everything and often we would escape to the park or library and not come home for hours after dark. I lived with her for a while, with her and her boyfriend, and my boyfriend Nick who stayed with us often but didn’t actually live with us, this is where things went wrong. One of my first posts here at the AGA was about my escaping that house. I remember being so glad to leave and be safe and away from all of those people. Then I went to Canada and to Asia and decided to come back to New Zealand and go back to school, and being back in my old city lead me to meeting up with my friend again.

A house full of memories

I am spending this week in the house I grew up in, my mothers house. We moved out of here when I was Twelve and into my step fathers house, my mother never sold this place but rented it out to a family instead. Now she wants to sell it, so here we are again. This week she is on holiday, so I am taking car of the place, and my cat, while she is away which is more than a little challenging. I am sleeping in my sisters old bedroom, as my old bedroom is the size of a closet (being the youngest and the unplanned child I lucked out on the bedroom choosing). Its odd to be back, to see the bedroom where I would come home from my fathers house and hide under that bed. Where I slept in the toy box as a little girl because I thought my teddy bears needed the warmth of the bed more than I did. This is the place where I hid as my parents fought loudly in the living room, where the police came to take away my big brother to prison, where I fell off the garage roof, while hiding up there so that I didnt have to go with the man who was abusing me who was supposed to be taking us to my fathers house.

Remembering Women

Today I got in the car in the pouring rain and sat in the drivers seat wondering where shall I go? It's the first whole day off I have had in a while and with all my friend's back at university I really was at a loss for what to do today. So I decided to drive out to the country to visit my Nana's grave to say goodbye before I leave to Canada in a few week's. I hadn't visited her there in a long time and as I drove out there I was thinking about her the whole time. And it made me think how sad it is the way we remember people. She died when I was 12 years old, after a long battle with cancer. I remember how much everyone at the funeral kept saying what a great wife and mother she was, and how nice she was, and thinking they were right, but also that they are all forgetting what an amazing Woman she was and how those things they all were saying did not do her justice.

Long lost, never forgotten

I like sundays. I never used to, especially not in high school, because it meant the dreaded monday was just that much closer. It also meant that I had to find some sort of an excuse to tell my mother when I got home at 6am sunday morning in last nights crinkled clothes, which looked oh so good when I last left the house. Now, its my only day off, and I try to enjoy every second of it from the moment I open my sleepy eyes at the beginning of the day. Today, was an exceptionally good day for me, and the best part about that is I made it that way and nobody tried to ruin it. There is something so special about meeting up with old friends. Friends who you can sit silently with, and they know what you are thinking about from across the table. Friends who understand the importance of sharing a glance, a laugh, a tear, with them when there is no need for any words at all. Today I met up with some of those friends. Today was a good day.

It may not be paradise but it has got to be close!

I am very pleased to write that yesterday I finally made the move into my new home! I can't describe how nice it was to wake up this morning and realise that first of all I could not hear yelling and screaming, I was not expected to get up to make everyone breakfast, and I was waking up, which meant I actually slept for more than an hour and without any nightmares at all!

To feel safe again, after so many nights of fearing to close my eyes, to allow myself to fall asleep because I could not trust that the people I lived with would not let danger walk through the door and welcome him into my room, to feel safe again was a truely amazing feeling.

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