They don’t know

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I hate them,
I hate them because I lose who I am when I’m around them
I forget the person I fought hard to become and embrace
I forget my strength, I forget my voice, I forget the power of my wisdom and the rationality of my mind
I am small and powerless, a victim of nonchalance and subconscious belittling
A product of self-motivated educational brilliance, and nothing else
They don’t know that I was exceptional, because I was never free enough to be anything less
They don’t know that I stopped striving for perfection because it filled my body with dread. It ruined me
And it still ruins me, and I’m lost and hurting and hungry for some release, hungry for danger and power and control because I’m dying to be someone else
I die to be someone else whenever they’re close, as though their auras were made of my own personalised happiness repellant
And they kill me with the kind of affection that my heart can’t understand
They kill me because I’m too different and sometimes too alone because of it
They kill me because just BEING aches with them, it hurts,
the feeling of being alien hurts
every time I leave im mad and sad and bitter and the tiniest bit more broken than the last time
Every time I leave I know I’ll need days to recover
I know I’ll need nights of toxicity
Loving, toxicity,
To filter the madness, soften the anger, lessen the hurt,
turn my blood back to red ink
Instead of salt water tears

warm. ready, loving. waiting.

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I’d not heard your voice in a while

a few days maybe

I’m not too sure maybe

But i remember when i called you last;

I masked the tears on my face by strengthening my cracking voice.

You were so far away, and i needed you

i needed the scent of your skin, the warmth of your hands,

I needed the sound of your voice, the security of your arms

because i was scared

and it was one of those days where the pessimism cut me so deep nothing could yank me out. nothing but your smile and your hair in my hands as i held on to you tight

I was scared. that my heart was breaking again, breaking prematurely, in preparation for worst case scenarios spinning out of control in my mind

so I called you that night. I called you.

I heard you,

i heard you like i hear you now.

warm. ready, loving. waiting.

STUDENT LOVE: I WILL CLEAN UP YOUR VOMIT WHEN YOU NEED ME <3

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Finding a place to live when you’re in first year can be a prospect very daunting or very exciting. In most cases, the people that you meet and grow to love within the first few weeks of term become the people you begin discussing moving in with – and just like that, by Christmas, you know that you’ll have a roof over your head for the next year.

Luckily, this is how it was for me. And till this very day I do not regret my choice of companionship. But unfortunately, life has a wonderful way of ruining expectations. I know too many people who now despise the people they chose to live with. I’m sorry if you’re one of those people who have had massive fallings out with friends because of living situations. We weren’t all made to live together.

I am not one of those people. I recently had a house night out, and realised that the girls I chose to live with have actually become some of my best friends at university. They’re girls that I don’t fight with – that living with is the easiest thing in the world. That 4 months in, am still asking and being asked how my day was. We still banter for hours sitting on the stairs. We still and have a plethora of house private jokes.

I’m so damn lucky, I realised. That I’m living with immature yet responsible teenagers. We eat each other’s food and we complain about mess, but most importantly: we get along. We accept each other for the way we are. Accept that we aren’t always going to have the bins out on time and that someone will be harbouring all the cups in their room at least once a week. That’s how it should be. That’s what living with the people you love is. They support me when I need it. I hold up Meg’s hair when she’s puking after one too many Sambucas. She wipes my tears when I’m an emotional mess. Liz lovingly reprimands us all into doing the right thing. Amy laughs at us all and claims we’re a tragic bunch. We come to the consensus that we need to behave ourselves. Little by little, we’re getting there. This is what university is. Growing together.

I’m really starting to come to the realisation that every amazing thing I ever dreamed about the university experience is happening for me. I’m so grateful.

I only wish this was the case for every student out there. Sometimes it happens, sometimes not so much. But nevertheless, we do meet people who impact our lives in ways we would have never thought possible.

Prospective students, join us.