The Follow Up

I've probably left it a little too long for this to be humorous, and the majority of you have possibly forgotten now, but here goes.

My last post lamented and predicted my possible future alcoholism. A life of misery and hopelessness. A never ending cycle of dejection and rejection, turning from face to face and never receiving a shimmer of hope.
It was all tongue in cheek of course. I am not resigning myself to a life of Scrouge quite yet. I am 18 years old and I have a future to plan and work for.
I am a highly ambitious individual. I imagine fast cars and expensive drinks and penthouse apartments, and I will do anything to realise those dreams. Ever since I was a little boy I have longed to send my family off on holiday, buy everyone a house, make sure that they are all happy and comfortable. For my mother, that is the least she is owed. We do not always get on, but sometimes the most similar of personalities just do not connect. She is as stubborn, as hard-working, as driven, as committed, as ruthless, as intuitive and as cunning as I am. And thus over the years the similarities between us have been the cause of our drift.
But she's put up with my mood swings and my callls home from school, and my recklessness and short temper, my low self esteem and offhandedness, my unsympathetic, cold personality. She, has for 18 years been the one person to fully put up with all my mistakes and wrong doings. The one person that for one hour can be so uncontrollably angry at me, then the next understand that I am only human and will teach me lessons that will prove invaluable.
And so it is for my mother that I will never become an alcoholic. She put up with my fathers pill-popping, whisky necking and reckless spending. And I promised to my mother that I will never be like him.

I have dreams and ambitions of making it big. Every spare moment I have I write music and learn all I can that one day I will go to an estate agent and buy my mother a house.
It is all for me and all for her.

For the sake of creativity I envisaged a life of alcoholism and depression.

That is not my mother and thus it is not and will not be me.

So one day I can sit back in my recording studio and it will be all down to my mothers patience and encouragement that I made it there alive.

I may not make it big, but I will still owe everything to her.

Welcome to the Family

The Reasons Why I'm a Future Alcoholic

Life sucks.
Everybody knows that and so it is hard to maintain any sense of optimism unless you're Emily Porter. (No disrespect Emily, that's a compliment.)
Those optimistic people could have suffered the worst; lost their job, their home may have burnt down, they could have been anally raped several times in the showers at the gym, they could come home to find their girlfriend in bed with Susan Boyle, and their pet Gerbil may have suddenly spontaneously combusted thus leading to their house fire, and yet the smile on that persons face will not waver.
I envy you positive people.
I find it hard to positive about anything, I've experienced too much in such a short time that tells me all hope is lost. Liverpool will never win the league, I will never get a full time job/girlfriend/ flat, and they will never make the sequel to Planet of the Apes with Mark Wahlberg that they promised like 10 fucking years ago.
Alcohol, however, has led me to the lighter side of life, the hopeful side on many occasions. It is my point of refuge on those nights where you really have lost all hope. Many times it has made things a lot worse, but it felt good at the time so you learn to move on and live.
See, I find it hard to keep friends. I'm such a rude, bitchy person that people just grow sick of my despicableness and disappear, and I don't blame them. Alcohol makes me friendly.
I find it hard to maintain relationships, girls either get sick of looking at my ugly face, or they realise just how boring a person I am. Alcohol makes me fun.
I lack motivation and so I get bored of things quickly, taking weeks off at the gym because I find it too much effort. Alcohol makes me exercise.
I'm finding it difficult to find a job, my fussiness and desperation to earn a certain amount and doing certain jobs means I am falling behind and not earning enough. Alcohol makes me less fussy.

I am 18 years old. Free, single and earning a decent amount. I should be happy, but the way I am, the way my personality runs means I end up as grumpy, as moody as a 70 year old menopausal woman. Alcohol makes me feel alive and it gives me a perfectly good reason to act like the 18 year old I am.
It's probably not the best thing to rely on, but right now it works.
I'll probably find life harder than most and so this is why I'm a future alcoholic.




Follow me on Twitter: @itsjoshpennock

Midnight Dreaming

I just went outside and looked at the stars.
God knows why.
I think I went outside to wish upon them.
God knows why.
I wouldn't know where to begin.

People often say that young people don't know what love is.
Well believe me, they do.
They know that endless, heart-breaking hurt of being in love.
Those smiles of joy, when inside they are slowly dying.
They cannot see a life beyond their one love, their girl that they will go to the end of the world for, march through the gates of Hell for.
To die for.
I know what love is.
"You didn't love her Joshy"
Yes, Yes I did.
I will not forget her until the final breath leaves my body and my eyelids close and my brain stops dead.
That final image of her smiling face, her voice, her hair and eyes and nose and lips and hands just her smile.
But ask me to define a broken-heart and I cannot tell you.
Because I cannot think.
To suffer a broken-heart is to live in death.

Maybe I'm midnight dreaming.
Maybe the beer is getting to my head.

Or maybe I knew what love was.

But tonight, I can gaze upon that endless sky and I can dream of times that have been and times that are to come and I can hope as any man, woman and child can hope, that those hours lying awake at night and dreaming, just dreaming, were not all in vain.
That I am okay. That what I dream for will someday come true.

Just Dream.

For Me

It was a January afternoon, just after school. One of those afternoons that you hate, you know, dark foreboding clouds and a tiredness within yourself after a long, long day. I was riding the bus home, the same bus, the same time I do every single day. Only this time an old friend from my old school got on with me, and we laughed and we talked and we caught up on everything we missed after our GCSE's. He spoke of his girlfriend and I congratulated him and said: "God, you're so lucky, I wish I had a relationship like that" to which he replied, jokingly: "Ahh Josh, sorry mate but people like you don't ever find love and happiness!" And he laughed.

Don't ever find love and happiness.

I laughed with him, whilst inside that last bit of hope inside me, it just melted away. The wife and the kids and the life I'd always dreamed of, one by one just vanished. Because I knew he was right.
I've had some close calls, times when I genuinely was happy, times when I genuinely thought I was in love, and maybe I was. But each time my heart was broken, through a fault of my own, or not.
Love is something so hard to find.
But happiness right? Surely happiness isn't so hard to pursue?
I have a good job and good friends, I'm healthy and wealthy, but am I happy?

I don't want you to waste your happiness. That's what I'm saying. For some people it just comes naturally, and I envy those people, my personality doesn't allow me to be happy. My DNA. My destiny.
Perhaps God doesn't want me happy and in love? I may never know, but you are not me.
So live with a smile on your face, please. For me.

Childhood

I wanted to be an Astronaut when I was younger.

I would sit on my bed at night and open the curtains and stare at the night sky; the stars, the moon and I'd dream.

The first Briton on the moon, the youngest Astronaut ever, the aspirations of a child.

Childhood

I remember the summer holidays. The end of school, the beginning of adventure.

The endless football games, the beating sun and freedom we so enjoyed.

We'd start our games at 12 and not go home until dark.

The thrill of competition, the sweat, the striking of the ball and the bulge of the net, the freedom.

I remember the "relationships" that would only last a day. Getting your friends to talk to the girls, barter and debate on what one to go out with. The hugging because we were forced to and not even considering kissing her.The pretence of freedom

I remember Gameboy colours and Sega Dreamcasts and Little Tikes cars and Lego and panicking over the 6 times table because it was the hardest thing you'd ever learnt. I remember Sunny D and running up the stairs the second you turned the light off, because you knew something would chase you as the light disappeared. I remember the sleepless nights on Christmas Eve or the night before my birthday, the anticipation of the day to come, and the despair when it was over. I remember going on the computer just to use paint and the worst word you could ever possibly say was "Bloody Hell." I remember Busted and Blue and Westlife and I remember Fairly Odd Parents and the Thornberries and Rugrats. I remember a late night being 9 O'clock and pretending to get drunk on J20. I remember candy cigarettes and dressing to play outside.

I remember telling mum everything and not having to worry about what to wear or what to say.

I remember when I would argue with friends and then make up the next day, and the biggest problem was wondering how long I would get to play football at lunch.

But I couldn't wait to grow up.

To learn to drive and have a job and buy whatever the hell I liked and to own my own house and get married and live happily ever after.

To get to bed when I wanted and dress how I liked. To be free of exams and teachers and timetables and homework.

To go on holiday to the most beautiful places and to never tire of the sunset along the beach.

To drive and drive and drive until I couldn't drive any farther. 

To do whatever I wanted to do, because I had grown up.

I didn't think of the despair.

I didn't think about the failures and the detentions and the U's in the mocks.

I didn't think about the "Josh you're on your last chance now" and the humiliation of ignorance.

I didn't think about the pressures of fashion, "What you wear is who you are" But who am I?

I didn't think about the overtime and extra shifts and the tax. 

I didn't think about the 11PM finishes and the lifting and the talking and the serving.

I didn't think about the dangers of alcohol and drugs and love.

I didn't think about the nights lost in the gulp of a beer.

I didn't think about the loss of friends.

I didn't think about the loneliness.

I didn't think about the heartbreaks.

I didn't think that love could be so hard.

I didn't think that life could be so hard.

I didn't think about the childhood I lost, wishing for my childhood to be lost.

I wish I'd stayed young forever.

How stupid were we to wish our lives away? To wish for a future so bright and open, that only ends as we can't imagine.

How stupid was I?

Hindsight is a funny old thing.

I'm only 17

  

Bridges and Oysters

Well how do you think I feel baby?

I'm numb. I'm numb.

I was sat outside the sixth form office again. 

My future rested on the meeting I was due to have. 

My behaviour had become "Unacceptable" quite what that meant I have no idea.

But the idea of my future seemed so distant, an intangible thing that was too far ahead of my thoughts.

I glanced upwards.

On the wall outside the office were photos. Year group photos. Photos of every St Paul's sixth form year since the 90's.

Now this got me thinking.

Look at all them smiling faces, excited, eager, anticipating their long awaited futures. University and careers there for the taking.

The world at their feet, a metaphorical oyster. 

But I wondered how many of them were dead. Typical me.

Some of them would be 30 now. Do they have wives/husbands? Do they have kids? Do they have good jobs? 

Are they happy?

Were they as happy then as I was unhappy at that moment? 

Were they happy now.

Seeing those faces on the wall put everything into a crystal clear vase for me to gaze upon.

Those people would have stressed and strived for the upcoming exams. Tears would have been shed and nerves pushed to the limits. But what for? 

I wonder if in 10 years time, a boy of 17 will be sent to the sixth form office, will sit outside and I wonder if he too will gaze upon those year photos and start to think.

Will he see my face? Will he ask himself the questions I did?

It would be nice to say that in 10 years time I would be happy.

I would be in a stable relationship, I would have friends that love me and I job I am comfortable in.

I would live in a nice apartment and go on beautiful holidays with my beautiful girlfriend in my beautiful clothes.

I would be happy.

Or I could be dead.

So what's the point?

I've lost the girl of my dreams.

I don't have a best friend I talk to 24/7.

I don't get on well at school.

I don't enjoy living at home.

I struggle day after day after day just to lift my head off the pillow, because I know that the day ahead brings me nothing but pain and anguish.

I wonder if any of the sixth formers of the past shared my thoughts.

10 years on do they feel that they wasted their lives in sour emotions?

What does a heartbreak at 17 mean to them now? Nothing.

It all means nothing. 

Today is just a bridge to tomorrow.

Yesterday was a bridge to today.

Nothing more.

To live each day as if it was your last is a future that I can cope with.

It makes sense to me.

I could die in 5 months time, but I would have enjoyed myself.

It wouldn't all have gone to waste.

I may smile, deep down I don't mean the smile, but I'm living each day.

I'm living each day.

People Are Smiling

The sun's setting.

It's about 4:30.

The wind is biting, bracing though the sun warms the backs of the people with a reassuring smile.

The people are smiling.

And how could they not?

They are stood on a hill, the grounds of the Piazzale Michelangelo.

Google that. Do it. 

Seriously....

The acoustic tones of a man and his guitar drift across the hill.

People pose for pictures. Couples kiss and smile, a memory being captured forever.

It is a Monday afternoon that will stay in their minds for all eternity, and mine too.

Ponte Vecchio, Santa Maria Novella, Piazza della Signoria.

The names are romantic, they are romantic.

Like a kid in a sweet shop I wandered the streets of Florence, gawping.

And then it got to 4:30 on top of the Piazzale Michelangelo. 

After my MK car park rooftop scene I mentioned before, here's my plan:.....

I tell her I love her.

We go home and I kiss her goodnight.

In the morning she wakes up and I'm not there.

She comes down stairs and finds an envelope on the table addressed to her.

She looks inside and there's a note that tells her to meet me at Bella Italia for dinner later.

We share dinner together and there I tell her to pack a bag and to be ready to leave early in the morning.

She's ready and I drive her to the airport where we catch a flight to Florence.

We tour it, doing the usual tourist things.

I take her up to the Piazzale Michelangelo. It's getting dark. It's deserted, save for a man in an apron, a table, some candles and some wine.

She takes a seat at the table.

Over the breeze she hears the strains of a guitar as it comes closer, playing her favourite song.

We gaze at the beauty of Firenze at night. I gaze at the beauty of her.

She smiles and I ask her to marry me.

I'm a soppy one I know.

A fantasist, but reality isn't something many enjoy.

Why not dream if you can?

Why not dream if you can't?

Today was no dream though.

Today I felt the wind on my face and the sun on my back.

I smiled without meaning to smile.

I saw a view I'd always dreamed of, and I didn't wake up.

I want to share this with someone.

I want to be one of those couples that smiled and kissed for the cameras.

One's eyes cannot divulge it all by themselves.

It needs sharing.

The sun set and it was perfect. 

Buongiorno Principessa

I love films.

I can sit for hours and hours and just be caught up in the emotions of a story played before my eyes.

They offer the sweetest escape. For 2 hours you're with Al Pacino in Miami, Julie Andrews in Oz, Dev Patel in Delhi, Russell Crowe in ancient Rome or Adrien Brody in war-torn Warsaw. 

For 2 hours you are part of their world.

So much is to be learnt from films too. The Godfather taught me family ethics, Pinocchio taught me that dreams do come true, Bad boys taught me how to swear and Pearl Harbor taught me bros before hoes always.

I always um and ahh when people ask me what my favourite film is and I never know how to answer.

I am Legend is the most beautiful film one can ever watch. (Yes, truly.) And if you don't cry when Sam dies you aren't human. So I am Legend always ends up being my choice.

But in the back of my mind, I know that I cannot pick just one film. 

Recently one film has taught me more than any other film I have ever watched.

It also happens to be among my very favourites;

La Vita e Bella.

Life is beautiful.

An Italian film many of you will not have heard of, but one all of you must watch.

I can watch it over and over and over again.

This isn't a film review or a plot synopsis or anything of the sort, just watch it.

But it has taught me that life is beautiful.

The true meaning of Yolo.

So this is my question.....

Why stress about school and work and relationships,

Why cry over spilt milk and broken hearts,

Why sink into the dark depths of depression when you could die tomorrow?

I am guilty of two of three questions, but La Vita e Bella has taught me different.

You could die tomorrow.

So why not make the most of what you have? Why not do the things you have always dreamed of?
In one week I am flying out to Florence in Italy, a place I have dreamed of visiting since I was a little boy.

A city of romance and culture and gastronomical heaven. A place of beauty. A place I know I will fall in love with.

I am living out my dream because I could die on my 18th birthday and never having been to the place I have dreamed of my whole life.

It will be worth every second.

I could die tomorrow, so last night I told the girl I like that I like her. To her face.

She could have shot me down in flames. She could have laughed at me, embarrassed me, mocked me in front of my friends.

But I have but one life.

I could have stayed shy about it, forever putting it off in fear that she would indeed laugh at me.

I could have lived my life forever regretting not taking her into the kitchen, hands shaking with nerves, drawing a deep breath and saying "I think I'm really starting to like you"

How cruel to be on my deathbed at 85 and a friend takes my hand and says:
"She liked you too Joshy, but she was too scared to tell you, just like you were too scared to tell her."

How cruel.

But I told her and it went just perfectly.

I am living my life because there is only one of them.

If there was one chocolate bar left in the whole world you wouldn't waste it would you?
You would savour every bite, committing it to memory for the rest of your life.

It's the same principle. There is only one life left of yours.

Savour it, commit it all to memory.

If you have always wanted to go to Australia, then do it!
If you've always wanted to become a doctor then do it!
If you have always dreamed of things, imagined your life differently, smiling with a sad knowledge that you are so far from your dreams, then get up and make your dreams a reality.

There is no point in stressing over exams when all they really do is get you to the next level.

They get you to the next level so you can work.

Work to what?
Work to live.

But waking up, driving to work, doing a 9-5 shift in an office, driving home, eating dinner, watching eastenders, then going to bed, that is not living. That is existing.

Live because life is a beautiful thing that doesn't come around again.

La Vita e Bella 

The Knowing

Dawn broke, just as it always does. Light flooding down the avenues, filling windows, opening eyes. The one entity mankind can fully rely on: the sun rising as surely as it will later fall and again and again. No matter the state of the world, the sun will continue it's business, ever dutiful to the hand of God. The moon it's silver accomplice. In unison patrolling the heavens above, eavesdropping on our wishes to the stars. Our guide in stormy seas and barren sands.
A reliance I can so readily depend.
I'm okay doesn't mean I'm okay.
A lack of dependability, of reliance in words.
Words are deceiving. The sun, moon, stars, they are forever as they are.
Words can be a wolf in sheep's clothing.
I say I'm okay, I'm not.
I say yes, I want to say no.
I say I love you, I don't.
I'm in love with you.
Words you can depend on
Knowing those words are the only dependable syllables in my vocabulary.
I mean what I say when those 5 words are spoken.
The rest are not my words.
It's what you want me to say.
"I'm okay" It's easy. It saves the questions, the curiosity I can't handle.
It's late at night, when alone, vulnerable, do my words turn to truth.
I am who I am.
I've taken off the mask. I'm not Josh or Joshy or Giosue.
I am me. Mi.
La verità.
I'm not okay.
I am loneliness. Wrapped up in my own world, I didn't see the other leave me behind.
I am confusion. What I know is no longer what I know.
I am regret. Beauty is no option.
I am okay though. Conversations with myself never suffer.
Though I never listen.
I know best.
Words are not to be depended upon.
But the sun rises, so it'll be okay. Truly Okay.

To a Future

The alarm went off, I woke up, I opened my laptop, I went onto the internet, I checked the MK council website: St Paul's Catholic School was still open despite six inches of snow. I sigh, drag myself out of bed cursing Mr Manley and his wretched snow plows, and got into the shower.
After the shower I again check the website and ,to my annoyance, school was now closed.
I had a dilemma. I was awake, showered and dressed. I looked out the window and decided to do something radical. Something I may never do again in my life. Something so out of character I surprised myself.........

I went on a pre-dawn, photo-taking snow walk.
Woahh Joshy, calm down, bit of a big step for you?
Well not really. I've done it several times before and it helps to clear your head of all the unwanted thoughts and feelings you've felt recently. The birds singing and the snow crunching, the fresh morning air in your lungs, it's something that cannot be fully described into it's total beauty. I took a risk this morning. I could have got back into bed and slept until 10 O'clock. Or I could go out and witness something I may never get the chance to witness again.
The canal an endless sheet of perfect ice, the rising sun just glistening off the surface.
The holy trinity church and surrounding fields, a scene so exquisite, yet quite unable to fit it's beauty into just one little picture. To see it was heavenly.
I took a risk this morning. To go out, get a little cold and a little wet, to perhaps get a little tired but it was totally worth it.

So maybe this is what 2013 is all about for me: Taking risks? Perhaps after all this time I finally understand the true meaning of "Yolo."
It's not about the drinking and drug taking and endless parties. It's not about jumping off of cliffs 40 feet into the sea or running down the street naked screaming I love potatoes.
It's about taking a risk.
It's about those walks in the snow, going for the job you've always wanted, turning left instead of turning right. That left turn could lead you to a world of possibility. Maybe.
But I'm sat here preaching and yet that biggest risk of all, I refuse to take.
"I think I'm starting to like you"
That's a risk.
It could lead to infinite happiness and endless love. To walks together in the snow, to watching movies together late at night, to those inside jokes no one ever understands, to silences that are never awkward, to play fighting and goofy laughter, to trusting someone with your deepest soul and heart and being happy that they are yours. To a future.
Or it she could turn to you and say "I'm sorry Joshy, I don't feel the same way." You smile and say that's fine, but inside you're dying. Because you know you'll never be good enough for anyone. And that future you imagined together burns before your eyes.
That's a risk and one I am unwilling to take.
Maybe I'm stupid or maybe I already know the truth but either way risks will be taken this year.
In the age of finding myself a few risks have to be taken to recover my true being from the snow.
So I guess You Only Live Once truly is the motto.

Waiting For Too Long

"The good ones go, if you wait too long."

I'm 17.

"Waiting too long, Joshy what you saying?"

I'm 17.

These kind of late teen years I think are all about experimenting. You're still trying to figure out the person you're going to be, what your hobbies are, what clothes you like, the music you listen to. Everything you thought you knew about yourself invariable changes around this age. It's all changed for me. When people come up to me and say "Joshy, you've changed" I always say that I know. Time forces us to change. You can't get to 90 years old and be the same person you were at 19. A 71 year gap can change everything. A 71 day gap can do that. This is the time to make mistakes, when you're older it's harder to correct something that could just be a sniff of white or an encounter with a girl at a girl right now, but when you have a job and a wife and kids, that mistake is life shattering, not the experience it is right now. It's about experimentation. Experiment with girls, with alcohol, with behaviour, with hair, with fashion, with money. 

But I see couples, happy couples still. It's reaching their six year anniversary. They met in year 7 and are still together today, in year 13. And this frazzles my brain. For someone that's never been commitment focused I can never comprehend quite how 2 people can still be so interested in each other when at this age, commitment isn't the focus. But I'm changing. 

I sat on Facebook one night and a relationship status popped up. I looked and my face fell.

And then another status.

And another.

And another.

And then one more. And I couldn't hold my head up any more.

Each smiling, happy girl had once been in my arms. Had once been happy with me. Had wanted me.

Each one beautiful, so lovely, but gone.

I was happy for them of course, it wasn't my feelings for them that changed my mood. It was that very line "The good ones go."

And then did I smile. I'd finally realised quite what that meant.

I knew what the words meant, but I'd never felt the emotion that Drake felt as those words passed his lips. For that one brief moment, I shared a feeling with a man I will never meet.

"The good ones go" And they quite clearly do. I cannot expect to marry every single girl I will ever kiss, ever text until the early hours, never wanting to be the first to say goodbye, because it could so easily be good bye.

But my lust for experimentation of "Finding myself" has left me alone. Has left me behind as the girls I have wanted have all found lives better off.

Of course not all these relationships are forever, but they never waited for me, as I never expected them to.

But it's time for the experimentation to end.

I know who I am. I know what I like, who I like. I know the person I want to be.

I feel alone, surrounded by a million people but I have wonderful conversations with myself. 

I am not truly alone of course. There are always those that you can turn to as friends, without realising you had them in the first place. And then things change.

I've waited too long.

I'm 17

Needle In a Haystack.

Someone dear to me told me of their new relationship status today and I beamed.
Never have I seen a couple so God built for each other, so utterly perfect that they should have written their marriage certificate at birth. And I have never been happier for a couple in my life. Through an ocean of people they have found each other. Seven billion people and they each have found their perfect match.
Though a contrast of emotions has begun to form in my mind...
A jealousy, almost a sadness aches in my heart and clouds my judgement. I am jealous of their discovery of each other. I may be destined to never find my "One." I may struggle on alone, watching this pair thrive and grow and smile in each others arms. Always around, but never there. With me in body, each other in spirit. An emptiness in my palms, and thoughts and eyes. No hand to hold, no memories to visit, no vision to adore. I may never meet "The One"
But she's out there. I know she is. Eve was created to be Adams one. Bonnie was Clydes. Marge was Homers. And to think that she is walking this Earth right now. She is breathing the same air and staring at the same moon and wishing upon the same stars, it sends shivers through my being. I hope she is happy. I hope she is enjoying life, I hope she knows there is someone out there for her. Specifically made for her and all her. We may never meet, but I hope she knows I'm her half. She may even be reading this, this very moment. Maybe I have already met her, maybe we have shared a glance, a moment, a vision into our future. Maybe she knows I'M her one, that she anticipates our future with a hope and a passion that pushes her on and puts a smile on her face as she slips into the depths of slumber. Into a dream inside her dream....
Or maybe the cruelties of life and the fragilities of time will never bring us together.
Maybe her beauty will never pass my eyes and steal my breath.
Maybe she will never make me smile, never feel such penetrating love, never share a kiss beneath a moonlit sky.
Maybe she will find someone better and live happily ever after. Probably.
But what does it matter? You don't choose who you fall in love with. Though you will.
Someone, dear.

When You Wish Upon A Star.

It was the FA cup final and Liverpool were playing Manchester United. I, being a huge Liverpool fan, naturally wanted to watch it, but I was at school on the day. The school had thankfully put a screen up to show it however, and I crowded in amongst my school friends to enjoy the game. I then noticed a blonde head bob into my view and I begun to get distracted from the game. She walked with effortless grace, a smoothness mastered by an angel. Her eyes the deepest blue and a smile so breath-taking, I got goose-bumps. I was smitten by loves hand. I made a place for her and she duly, cheerfully sat down next to me, her flowery fragrance filling my head with dizzy thoughts, her voice soft as fur, clear as water, smooth as ice. We spoke about sweet nothings and I lent in to kiss her, heart pounding, and she kissed back. We were a couple.
And then I woke up.
The most beautiful moment I had ever experienced was, of course, only a dream. A dream cruel, depriving me of a love so pure and instant, butterflies danced with joy in my stomach. My metaphorical dream girl became my literal dream girl. And I have never forgotten that kiss.
When Jiminy Cricket wished upon a star he told me my dreams would come true and I believed him for so long. But only recently have I discovered that life really isn't so romantic as Jiminy made it out to be. I could wish upon a billion stars, but the things I want the most don't seem to want me back. And I don't blame them. Someone like me doesn't deserve the romance of Disney, but that's besides the point. For some, wishes do come true and I am truly happy for those where that happens, but I will forever be jealous of such beautiful fortune. I have given up wishing and it's probably for the best. Good things come to those who wait. But that isn't true. Good things come to those who work and from now that will be my mantra. The stars are too far away to hear my pleas for help.
I do have one wish however..... Though it is one I wish to fulfill myself.
There is a car park attached to the Milton Keynes shopping centre, a multi-storey building that commands the most beautiful of views in the city. The top floor is open to the sky and my wish is to some day hire out the top floor for a clear, blue summers evening. I will take the girl I love up there for a romantic dinner for two, some wine, some Italian food, with only the heavens for company. As it reaches sunset we will walk hand in hand to the balcony and watch the sun sink beneath the horizon, bathing the city in a glow so beautiful it will take our breath away. And as the stars begin to appear I will look her in the eye and tell her I love her. And there with the moon and stars as our witness, I will kiss her with the love I deeply feel.
It's cheesy, it's soppy but I don't care. It is my wish, and I will wish and I will wish and I will wish for that to one day become true. I no longer believe in wishing, so I will be proactive myself and give the girl of my future everything she deserves. Good things come to those who wait, but better things come to those who work.