Run

There was a time I thought my life was over, that it would never be as good as i had had it. 4 years and 83 days ago I landed back in England from New Zealand and it was dark, I was welcomed home by a family I was trying to escape and I was heartbroken. My first love and I were no more and I had to leave what I'm come to think of as my home, my new family, a job I loved, my friends, my dog. I was 19 and so naive.

My first thoughts were to get a qualification and to get my ass back, I gave up my place at uni and grasped hold of the first skilled uni course I could, an ODP. I wasn't interested in loving England, I was barely interested in loving myself. 

I've always been pretty good at running away, but all these strange events have lead me to a place I never thought I'd be. Home. 

All these things that happened lead to a bad year... Or two. I genuinely felt alone and lost, but I didn't feel I had the support to break down. My structure wouldn't allow it and I don't do failure. This last year my foundations have been laid, joists put in place, and I found space to brake, but amazingly not fall apart. I'd built everything I'd ever wanted... I hadn't even noticed. Right now I have the support to be everything I want and deal with all my skeletons. I realise now that to be happy anywhere else I had to fall in love or at least mutual civility with everything I'd run from.