Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn.
It has been just about 2 weeks since the competition, one week since I came back. Honestly, it was only 9 days, but I can feel bits and pieces of me left behind in every nook and corner, both physically (i.e. my red scarf in that random club in Oxford, our bundle of authorities in my room, my scissors in Zurich Airport) and emotionally, the latter of which I really need to deal with instead of going through this vicious cycle of anger > pain > upset > anger at being upset.
I’ve properly talked to whomever I feel I can talk to, who specifically are: my parents, and maybe 2 or 3 friends in school. So that’s a lot of people, by my standards. I didn’t really manage to establish anything properly after those conversations; everyone tells me that this is a decision I have to make myself. But fuck, what stupid advice is that? If I could make that decision that easily on my own I wouldn’t be asking you and being so wishy-washy about this.
(If you are said friend who said this to me and you are reading this, I am sorry. I totally get where you come from and I am pretty sure I would say the same thing if I was in your shoes.)
Nonetheless, after a few attempts at making a pros/cons list in my head, I’ve made the decision, which happens to concurrently end 3 other decisions I made in the earlier few months of this year. And it’s only March.
So you see, a lot can change in a couple of months.