Do you ever even think of me?

This week a friend of mine on social media shared this article: 
People revealed the question that they would ask that one person who really broke their heart. It caused me a day (and a bit more, occupational hazard of being ill and off work) of deep reflection.
It's been a little over 3 months since the process of my heart being broken started, almost 3 months since it was, well, shattered, and now, I guess, I'm in the long process of it being mended. I feel like I'm in a weird interim stage now, I'm over the initial pain, I don't want him back, there are certain parts of my life I'm happy with, but I haven't achieved the total knowledge of being over everything that happened. There's still a dull ache in my heart when I think about the whole journey I had to go through to even get to where I am now.
So, what would I ask him?

The story:

He found someone else when he was away for the summer, so when we eventually did break up, it felt like all the pain was mine, as he already had someone new and exciting for his attention. I felt like I was the old rag he was chucking away.
In the weeks that followed the break up I really struggled, and I thought of him, and our relationship daily, and I would just want to know - does he ever think of me? Does he ever think of us and the two years we spent together? Or is he so enamoured with the new life he's made for himself that it never even crosses his mind?
Maybe 2 months ago I still had millions of questions through my mind that I would want to ask him, but now I think they've mostly all whittled down to that one. Are the memories of us worth anything to you or are you too busy creating new ones that they've all been discarded, like I was?

What would you ask?

Something a bit different: The art of being confused

Picture credit: Pinterest

So I'm trying something a bit different this week, as I've really been struggling to do something new and exciting every week (I'm sure you haven't been able to tell with the direction my posts have been taking) and I don't want to keep slacking off until I end up not writing any posts at all.
So, I'm still going to challenge myself to do something new, just maybe only once or twice a month, but I still want to really dedicate myself to this blog, so I'm going to expand out with my posts, and just take it as it comes. I don't think it will ever fit into a specific genre, but when does anything really fit completely into a label? Good metaphor for life there guys - don't let anyone box you into a category. This is going to be a little bit of everything now.

So, without further ado, here is my first post of 'something different' - about being confused.

I'm beginning to realise that the age of 22 should be the year of complete and utter confusion. I'm not even quite at that age yet, I'm flailing in between the 'being a bit tired of being 21 now' and 'no 22 is such a dead end of an age,' but I'm already struggling with the confused part. 
Earlier this year I was so excited for this year, I kind of thought that any confusion would be out of my life, just gone, because I knew where I was going. Not what I wanted to do, true, but I knew I would have my boy and our life together, and I had no confusion about that.

However, it obviously turned out that he did, and the backlash of this has plunged me deep in the confusion pool, and I haven't always been the most gracious about it. But maybe this is okay. Maybe it's where I'm meant to be. Taylor Swift even writes the lines "we're happy, free, confused and lonely, at the same time," and "in the best way," about feeling 22, and that whole song for me is about embracing that exact feeling. Embracing everything you could be doing, and everything you could be feeling. 
For me, that's part of the problem, there is just so much that I could be doing, so many choices, decisions and options. I've never been the best at making decisions. That's a bit of an understatement actually. When I thought my decision was mapped out for me I fell into that comforting feeling, I jumped at the chance that I wouldn't have to make that big of a decision again, who wouldn't?

But now is a chance for me to think for myself again. Flail willingly and stupidly and repeatedly into this confusion. 22 is the age of trying every single option until you find the right one for you. Living in 5 different cities, working every different job there is, dating a different guy each month, and not for a moment ever feeling guilty for not knowing what you want. 

A lot of 22 year olds, myself included, will have just left full time education. University was a taste of adult life and freedom, sure, but it was like those taster science lessons at school where they would show you all the things you could blow up on your desk, or burn to a crisp with a Bunsen Burner, while when you actually got started you would just be copying out lists of food groups and safety rules. Sort of like taxes. Education, even if you hate to admit it, is like a parent. Comforting, secure and maybe a bit smothering, but always there to hold your hand. Now it's just shoved you out on a tightrope with a yelled "Good luck!" that you can't quite hear for the wind trying to dash you to the ground. 

So this is me saying that I'm going to do everything I possibly can to stay on that tightrope, and I'm going to have massive doubts, and regrets, and I'm going to make the wrong choices, and I'm going to do things wrong, but that's okay. I am here in this world to be confused, at least for right now.

I'm going to end with a quote from Shanelle Kaul: (she writes another 9 reasons about how great being 22 is here) 

"22 is basically the only age you can use as leverage. Meaning that because it's the exact age between life-as-you-know-it and what will later be known as 'real life' (that's scientifically proven, of course), people expect you to make some mistakes. Mistakes like overcooking a pot-roast or dating someone who may not be right for you. And that's okay, because heck, you're just 22."

To sum it up....

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Hello everyone,

My name is Rhianna, I'm 21, I've just graduated with a degree in English Literature, I've just been broken up with, and I'm at a completely new and unfamiliar crossroads in my life. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I should be doing, what I want to be doing, what I could be doing - there's a lot of things I don't know.

Throughout my life there have been things I've been pretty bad at - number one (I would say) - is the art of making decisions. I just can't do it. Small decisions, big decisions - they all prove almost impossible for me to make. I'm also not great at being by myself, trying new things, and not relying on other people.
So this is my experiment. I'm going to try some new things, and I'm going to try and survive - and maybe flourish, who knows? - by being on my own.

My first post will be up on Sunday - and it will be about my venture into the world of Tinder. (I know, even looking at the word makes me cringe a bit, too) My first impressions, setbacks, and funny moments, that have all occurred in the past few days.

I'm new at the blogging thing (if you couldn't tell) but I'm going to try and make a separate page with my 'list' (that sounds ominous) so everyone can see it - and please, if you have suggestions - let me know!

Keep an eye out on Sunday!
See you soon,