I don't wanna spend my life thinkin what it could be like...

When I was with my ex I used to wait until he fell asleep, slip out of bed and sit on a chair in the living room. I sat and stared out the window at the people coming and going: the group of teen (loudly) making their way home past curfew, the girl in the black trench with her boyfriend munching on eggrolls, the older woman with a bag from tesco and a phone glued to her ear.

I wasn't adamant about not going to bed, but I constantly wondered if that was the right place for me. I wanted to reassure myself that I was doing the right thing, that I was the type of girl to spend her summers in London laying on the top sheet staring at the dark all around me and not feel alone.

Now that I've shed that relationship skin I find myself back in the dark reassuring myself that I'm not that girl. That I'm the type to spend her snowstorms under piles of covers with the silence calling her back to bed. I keep telling myself that this is right. That love isn't hard. That I should have to go through emotional trials and pep talks to keep myself there. Or maybe that's what my friends are saying (after a while the conversations that I have with myself melt with those I have with my friends and I forget who's talking).

At the end of the day I wish I knew what right felt like so I don't automatically categorize everything else as wrong. Maybe this thing isn't easy.... maybe it's simply like all other things that are so gratifying when you work for them. Maybe I should stop maybing and start doing.