Wednesday, 28 April 2010

Rockclimbing? worst metaphor ever!

So, things have happened. I have a boy living with me now. We have a snake called Hugo Fucking Weaving. We bought stuff from B&Q to decorate. We bought a fridge freezer. We.... are becoming a family of our own. It's scary, crazy and oh so amazing!

I mean, two years ago I was living in a hostel, I had lost pretty much everything and I was sinking ever lower into misery and debt. I suppose you only know that you've hit rock bottom after you see how far you've climbed since then. Climbing, I've hung on to some shaky rocks, fell and slipped many times and looked up to see what I thought was the top, but it was just another ledge, another stopping point to cling to in the times I didn't think I had the strength to carry on. But, to further stretch out the rock-climbing metaphor (and I realise I'm pushing it here!), the ropes I had were enough to keep me going. Gof. My friends, even though they probably don't realise it. My family, finally comfortable in the knowledge I was finally growing up and taking responsibility. They all helped.

My god, this is starting to sound like an Oscars speech!

Guess this won't be a keeper, in writing terms, but I just wanted to get this down.

I love my life.

I've never been more settled. I'm comfortable in one place, but the best thing is, I'll never stop moving forward.

With and along side Gof. We're a team.

Oh, and Hugo too!

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