The time has arrived and passed: I am now at university! Yay!
Moving in was like taking a cold shower. We collected the keys from a tent (that's how cool my uni is - they use tents to sign people in!) and walked over to my new block, my new flat, my new home. So far, good. It was exciting. And then I got into my room and was instantly doused in cold water.
My room looks like that now, but when I moved in, it smelt, the walls were bland, mould was growing out towards my face and it looked grotty. I did not remember the Halls looking so bad on the Open Day. I was paying £95 a week for all this.
It still looked bad when my Dad dumped all my boxes, bags and stuff in it (me and my Mum had left him to carry everything up by himself - there were only two flights of stairs, he managed). I was slightly startled by this turn in events, and went to check on the kitchen. It was slightly better, but still bad. I wondered if I had been shown a different set of Halls when I came on Open Day.
Aside from the smelly room, everything seemed fine and dandy. We were late to a meeting due to the stupid amount of traffic into the car park, so we rushed over to that. We missed our time slot, got giving another one, and ended up sitting in the warm September sun with orange juice and cake. I relaxed a little, happy enough to be in my own little bubble. I kept glancing around the campus, trying to envision myself going to lectures. I was thrilled with the image in my head; I looked so damn cool.
This happy image burst like the fragile bubble it was when I returned to my room, only to realise that my parents were now leaving. Straight away. We'd been together for two, three hours at my new home and they were abandoning me. I felt rejected. But I was going to hold it together, I was not going to cry, I was going to be strong and mature.
Dad: Here, I bought you some tissues, just in case you need them.
Me: (Promptly bursts into tears)
Dad: (Looking startled) I was only joking.
Mum: Look what you've done.
I felt stupid, to say the least. I had been holding back the tears for a while, calming down when I was free of my house. The reason for my tears had been my little brother, who kept crying whenever he saw me. I guess he hates me that much ... Only joking, he didn't want me to leave, and every time I saw him cry, I cried. I felt guilty, and I realised that I would miss him too. But I was not going to cry.
Except I clearly did.
I glared at my Dad accusingly, and he hugged me as an apology. I still felt stupid. I bet none of the other cool students cried when their parents dropped them off. Even if there was only one other person in my flat at that moment, and she'd come on her own, as her parents were on holiday. This reasoning did not make me feel better.
Mum: We'll be visiting in two weeks with Steph and Paul, don't worry.
Me: I'm alright now (I was clearly far from alright, but I was reigning it in).
Mum: (Looking guilty) We would have stayed longer, but we need to get back to Steph and Paul, and your Dad has work.
Me: S'alright (It was clearly not alright).
Mum: We love you. Have fun tonight.
I watched them leave from the kitchen window, and felt a wave of sadness and fear. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. This was not how I imagined my first day living alone to be. I had imagined that I would be cool and impressive and witty. Instead, I was rapidly curling into the fetal position.
I made a cup of tea, because tea makes everything better. You feel sad, someone makes you tea. A member of your family has died, make a cup of tea. Your parents have abandoned you, make a cup of tea.
It seems stupid to start this post with a happy euphoria and end it on a sad note, so I'm gonna make it a happy note to end on:
Moving in was like taking a cold shower. We collected the keys from a tent (that's how cool my uni is - they use tents to sign people in!) and walked over to my new block, my new flat, my new home. So far, good. It was exciting. And then I got into my room and was instantly doused in cold water.
It still looked bad when my Dad dumped all my boxes, bags and stuff in it (me and my Mum had left him to carry everything up by himself - there were only two flights of stairs, he managed). I was slightly startled by this turn in events, and went to check on the kitchen. It was slightly better, but still bad. I wondered if I had been shown a different set of Halls when I came on Open Day.
Aside from the smelly room, everything seemed fine and dandy. We were late to a meeting due to the stupid amount of traffic into the car park, so we rushed over to that. We missed our time slot, got giving another one, and ended up sitting in the warm September sun with orange juice and cake. I relaxed a little, happy enough to be in my own little bubble. I kept glancing around the campus, trying to envision myself going to lectures. I was thrilled with the image in my head; I looked so damn cool.
This happy image burst like the fragile bubble it was when I returned to my room, only to realise that my parents were now leaving. Straight away. We'd been together for two, three hours at my new home and they were abandoning me. I felt rejected. But I was going to hold it together, I was not going to cry, I was going to be strong and mature.
Dad: Here, I bought you some tissues, just in case you need them.
Me: (Promptly bursts into tears)
Dad: (Looking startled) I was only joking.
Mum: Look what you've done.
I felt stupid, to say the least. I had been holding back the tears for a while, calming down when I was free of my house. The reason for my tears had been my little brother, who kept crying whenever he saw me. I guess he hates me that much ... Only joking, he didn't want me to leave, and every time I saw him cry, I cried. I felt guilty, and I realised that I would miss him too. But I was not going to cry.
Except I clearly did.
I glared at my Dad accusingly, and he hugged me as an apology. I still felt stupid. I bet none of the other cool students cried when their parents dropped them off. Even if there was only one other person in my flat at that moment, and she'd come on her own, as her parents were on holiday. This reasoning did not make me feel better.
Mum: We'll be visiting in two weeks with Steph and Paul, don't worry.
Me: I'm alright now (I was clearly far from alright, but I was reigning it in).
Mum: (Looking guilty) We would have stayed longer, but we need to get back to Steph and Paul, and your Dad has work.
Me: S'alright (It was clearly not alright).
Mum: We love you. Have fun tonight.
I watched them leave from the kitchen window, and felt a wave of sadness and fear. I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. This was not how I imagined my first day living alone to be. I had imagined that I would be cool and impressive and witty. Instead, I was rapidly curling into the fetal position.
I made a cup of tea, because tea makes everything better. You feel sad, someone makes you tea. A member of your family has died, make a cup of tea. Your parents have abandoned you, make a cup of tea.
It seems stupid to start this post with a happy euphoria and end it on a sad note, so I'm gonna make it a happy note to end on:
I HAS AN AMAZING VIEW FROM MY ROOM!
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