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Just about me…

What can I tell you that would make you want to listen. Maybe that I am in love with a girl called Olatz. She seems to think that I am worth listening to even though my shy pride mostly leaves me mute in her company. Perhaps I could tell you about the nine years of my life that I spent living in Emmaus communities around England. Or how about what brought me to living on the streets before that. Alienating everyone in my life, and I mean everyone. Friends, family even acquaintances who probably didn’t think much of me in the first place. How I conspired with my mum in her suicide by cancer. BOOM! Should be the one right. I didn’t lift a finger to stop my mother  dying slowly, in excruciating agony from cancer. But to be honest that is just the kind of person that I am. Believe me when I say that I am not proud of this fact. But nor am I particularly ashamed of it. With hindsight I know that my mum was really unhappy, had been for years. And so I suppose when she realized what she had, it must have seemed like the way out. The fact is she would have spent the rest of her life becoming ever more unhappy. Of course at the time I did not know this. Nor did I really know that she was dying, not like when someone tells you, “I am dying”. My mum never said that to me, or anyone else as far as I know. I see that I am stuck on this now. I get that way once I start. I suppose it must be about wanting someone to listen to what I am saying and do something about it. And I don’t mean help me or anything. I mean to believe me when I say that I knew what was wrong, and did nothing about it. I want someone to tell me what kind of person that makes me. To hate me for it. The way that I cannot hate myself. Is this too depressing?

I met my girlfriend last year. We were on a work camp in Benin, and after 12 days came home with an extra person in our hearts. Simple as that. She makes me smile, and helps me talk. She sees me in a way I’m not sure anyone ever has before. Like I am real, an actual person. Someone who exists outside of their own mind. Scary as hell when that happens. Olatz is the kindest person I know, and she wants to be with me. Those words are like some sort of magic spell. A mantra if I ever needed one. And I have always needed one. We live in London but I don’t really like it here. Olatz says that she can live anywhere and that we just have to look for somewhere that I do like. Generous. Kind. Olatz. Well that will be all for now. I will leave the decision of whether or not to carry on with this up to you.


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