An Open Letter To A Girl In The No Man's Land Of Friendship

I'm not going to state your name. It's the internet and that's what you do: post stuff that's actually honest but you can never say on real life because we have all forgotten how to talk. And in true internet fashion you should know who you are. If you even read this blog. I imagine you might check on it every now and then to see how Cecily is doing, but probably not for me. I mean why would you, we talk everyday, right?

Expect we both know that's not true. Every morning we have an hour long bus journey into school, and for how much of that do you think we actually speak? Maybe fifteen minutes on a good day. On bad days, nothing at all. And don't try and say that you are not a morning person, because that is quite clearly not the reason why. Think back to year seven to eleven. Did we ever not speak on the bus? Generally not. Generally we laughed and gossiped and moaned with complete disregard for other passengers, because hey, we were two best friends and that's what we do. Of course there were days when we didn't speak; mainly it was just after you got your first blackberry, which led to your first real discovery of boys (and thus a social life) and so it always seemed as if your face was permanently stuck to that screen. But other times it was because one of us was hacked off with the other and it was that awkward silence. Brining us back to present and providing another reason as to why it's our friendship that's the problem, not the time of day. The moment we get off the bus, I watch you laugh and hug and chatter away with all your new friends. Who are also my friends, but at the bus station they are yours.

It's not that I don't want to talk to you in the mornings. Of course I do, apart from in the mornings after I spent half the night crying. Then I'm whacked and do genuinely want to sleep. But for the majority of the time, I sit there and watch you, as you pout and gaze out of the window and listen to your music, which blocks out my feeble attempts at conversation. I sit there and I realise, I do want to talk to you, however we no longer have anything to talk about. Despite six years of friendship and claiming to be joined at the hip, I don't really know what we have in common anymore.

I am spending more time observing you than being friends with you. And it kills me. Because the more I watch, the more I find myself judging you and I begin to only be able to see your faults; and that is not the best way to maintain a friendship. I because I see your faults more and more each week, the less I find myself being nice to you. Not in an overtly mean way, just more sarcastic. Making jibes which once seemed ok. Again, not the way to maintain a friendship.

I wish I could come up with some deep and meaningful insight. But really, I think boys have a large part to do with it. I think our different interests have a lot to do with it. I think our attitudes to white teeth teens have a lot to do with it. I think competition has a lot to do with it. I think I have a lot to do with it.

On the off chance you do read this, please don't acknowledge it with superficially emotional text, or with a facebook message. Or even call me. Or even mention this ever. Just, talk to me on Monday morning.



An email to Cecily

My slightly edited email to Cecily. NB She is having a Latino National Evening the Sunday that I leave after my visit to her (GAHHHH)

Damn. I do like my Latinos. Gutted to be missing this event.
But at least I get to spend a weekend with my favorite Latino of them all.

And no, I don't mean you.

Eek. I am becoming a fan of short syntaxes standing as isolated paragraphs. I think it's a pretty good representation of how I'm thinking at the moment. I'm so fricking tired. Everybody is; in one music lesson, the teacher said to her class ten minutes in "You can't be bothered to do this lesson, I can't be bothered to teach. Just go and relax. You guys can have a free, and I can have one too". The last two days at school, I have attempted to do work, but always have just seem to find myself sitting on a chair in the common room attempting to sleep. It's like I've been on the verge of tears all week. Not because I'm finding in particularly hard or stressful, but (why can't the English language have a word like 'sondern') rather I'm just so exhausted. Yesterday I felt so down in away I haven't felt before since coming to my new school (but I realised with horror how much I remember feeling it at our old school) and lots of people commented on it. But I bought myself some chocolate buttons and discussed feminism and sex (in an unsexual way) with J-- for half an hour. And then G-- and his girlfriend joined us and discussed how fun sex is. Which was a bit awkward. Because. Well. It's G-- and his girlfriend, and although we are all exposed to their semi dry-humping in the common room everyday, the thought of them actually being naked with their gentiles stuck together is just not that appealing. And going back to the tears thing, there's some other stuff (shitty teenage crushes*) that I've been thinking about too much.
I just want to come to Wales and see you. I am very very very much missing you. R-- I have really been drifting apart lately and so it can sometime feel like my only really good friend at school is F--. Sure, I have loads of friends and people that I get on really well with, and I never technically need to be alone in a free (if I wish it to be so). I guess I just miss having a good few people that I can have a range of conversations with. For each person, I only seem to be able to have one kind of conversation; for some it's deeply intellectual, for others the standard banter. I miss being able to have someone where I can have a whole range of conversations with. I do have that with F--, but as we were both saying, it's nice when you have that history with person, which neither of us (although I at least should) have what with being at new school.
 We've got our exam timetables, and a planner for the rest of the year, which is about the same size of a timetable, that has one decent sized box for everyday between now and the beginning of the summer holidays, and it fits on one size of A4. It's made me realise how close we are to leaving school. I really don't want to. I really love education. And. Oh shit. I don't want to be ready to leave school. I think that's the scariest thought. For my entire life school has been this safety blanket, a place which I know I will enjoy and excel at. But over the next year, school will cease to be the lovely warm duvet just after you have woken up, but rather the duvet you have after you have lain in until after midday, and it's hot, sweaty and uncomfortable. I don't want to experience that.
A hail storm has broken out with the odd bit of thunder and lightening. Talk about over dramatized pathetic fallacy.   
Sorry for the length/angstyness of this email.
I don't know why I apologised because I know it's the type of thing you love.

*Whose only remedy is Girls' Aloud



Hey Readers!

 School started and silenced ensued; we all know the feeling.

I don't have anything proper to say write now. I'm just so excited. I've been asked to set up a Feminist Society at my school*.

Go back and read that sentence again and feel my enthusiasm.

A very happy Gwendolen

*My school being a boys' school (if you don't get this, go and find my socially inept hermit posts) this is a pretty big thing.