At the end of time

Can’t wait for holiday. Sweden. Family. Home. I’m tired. It’s been a long year. My world have been turned upside down and I’ve just gone for the ride. The arm still has 6 weeks before it’s actually healed which I, well, kind of decide to not think about.

I do what I always do when I’m single – never stop dancing. Find the loneliness hard. Surround myself with beautiful people. Make new friends, kiss sweet boys. Party girl. The boys that care about me ask when I will stop. They look at me with worried eyes and want to save me. They always have. But I smile back and don’t let them close. They can’t do anything, it’s all me.

I’m the only one who can decide to stop hiding behind the ones that are not right for me. To stop closing my heart down on countless dance floors.

 I know myself well by now. What I need to do to move forward. When Ol and me ended I knew it would take me at least a year. I knew I would cry and crush on boys, feel like the queen of the world and endless loneliness. That I would question why this restlessness made me leave when most stays. That I would know it was the right thing and wish I didn’t.

I need time to get there. I need dancing, crashing head first into a wall, euphoria and a bone deep weariness. I need sweet boys showing me who I am and where im supposed to go. I need the rollercoaster to wake up one day and be done with it.

But right now I need my childhood home, my parents, sleep and food.

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