I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

(This was actually typed on 24/07/13, last week. I was too lazy to post it until now, for which I apologise.)

I am safely in Sweden now,  and I somehow forgot how much I missed Göteborg. It feels like coming home after a very long time away. 

We visited Moony's grandpa yesterday, because he's recovering in hospital from a stroke. Luckily, he seems just fine, and we're hoping he can go home in just a few weeks. 

It turns out that Swedish hospitals are very different to English ones. But that may be because we were in a different ward to ones I am used to, from when my father was hospitalised for a little while. The environment seems warmer, and apparently it's normal to go have tea or coffee and biscuits in a lounge that the patients can get to. 

It was the stroke recovery ward so all the patients were fairly elderly, and one woman was actually Norwegian.  Moony's grandpa introduced us as his granddaughter and her friend from London, later her boyfriend from London. He kept commenting on my glorious hair and teeth, which is fine for me since my hair is the most important thing to me about my appearance, and Swedes have great teeth, so if I'm getting a compliment about mine then this is a big deal. 

The outcome of being surrounded by these people, though, was like I was the one in hospital. I was surrounded by people talking to each other and laughing, yet I couldn't understand any of them. I felt like I should be able to, that understanding was just out of reach, but I couldn't get to it. 

There was also an adorable interracial old couple. The husband was the patient, and he was cuddling his dark skinned wife, commenting that she was the most precious thing he had in his life or something. It was heartwarming. 

Today, I have been up since 4am(ish) and am spending a majority of the day in the restaurant area of Moony's workplace. Her shift is 6-15 and if I stay home I'll just sleep so we decided on this. This shift is four days in a row, and while I relish the chance to see her work and to finish some of my summer reading stuff for school, I'd obviously prefer to be at home asleep. 

These past two days have made me realise just how young and unaware I really am.  I don't have a job, I just bullshit my way through school (ask anyone, this really is my method) and laze around at home. I don't know which of my friends have jobs and I don't know what jobs my family even have. I simply don't think it matters. But apparently it's something I will come to realise does matter as I get older...

I can get dressed easily, at least in physical terms since I have a daily 'am I dysphoric this morning' battle, but Moony's grandma needs assistance and takes a while to get ready. 

Lord Henry, in The Picture Of Dorian Gray, comments that youth is the one thing worth having, but you never realise it until it is gone, and I'm starting to understand what he meant. 

I have my own issues to deal with, but they are mere trifles against the difficulties some people face with age. 

Did you know it's practically proven that if you live long enough, and nothing else kills you, you're near guaranteed to get cancer? 

I don't think anyone takes the time they have with enough understand of just how precious life is. 

To once more quote Lord Henry, 'Live! Live the wonderful life that is you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.'

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.

I'm becoming more aware of how beautiful life is now that I have Moony with me.

I've always seen where I live as a holiday location. It feels like I am only staying here until I can leave again, until I can head towards my home, which is on the other side of the UK.

The truth is that I no longer feel like that. Today, I watched the sun begin to set before the fog hit it, and the sky was thrown up with pinks and purples, and the deepest of reds. It lit up my room, my partner, everything I have and will ever need, and it stopped feeling like a holiday home, and more like my life.

I've never been comfortable here, I like the location but not the way it makes me feel. Everything is like something from those old books where the old ideals ring true and nothing is as brutal as the papers say, as if it can be ignored. But in truth there was a suspicious death at a house near the bottom of my road that I'm sure was the fault of the husband. All the evidence points to him but he got away with killing his wife, as far as I believe.

My town has the highest rate of teenage pregnancies in the UK.

It's not perfect, but it seems it. And I've never really liked that, how everyone is close to each other and don't talk to outsiders. They know everything because everyone talks.

But when Moony is with me, it feels different. Like I can handle all that, because I've got her, my own little piece of calm.

It's the same with school. I feel like I don't need to worry about what's going to happen next year, or just wait for it, because I have everything I need right here. And that's fucking beautiful.

I wake up scared, I wake up strange, I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever gonna change.

As disastrous, unplanned, unexpected weekends go, this one was pretty good.

I stayed at my best mate's house, we watched Doom, RED, Star Trek (all because of Karl Urban, and I regret none of it), V For Vendetta and History Boys. My mate got the new Bioshock game so I wrote and spoke to Moony for the day, and Ivan, whenever he was around.

In honesty, I partly regret not going to Pride. I do not doubt it would have been a brilliant day, but I enjoyed the day I got instead. It was calm, it was normal. My mate's mum loves me, and I'm pretty sure she called me dear, or darling, or something, at some point when she made me tea.

Moony called me a few times, somewhat drunk, and it's rather impressive, how good her English is even when she's intoxicated. Bravo, love.

I've taken to wearing the shirt Ivan designed whenever I feel down, or like I need cheering up in any way, because it reminds me that everything is going to be alright. I have people who really care about me, and sometimes that's enough. My mate said he's noticed this already, so it's like Ivan is my go-to, my signal that I'm not in the best mood. One of many reasons my bestie means so much to me.

Me and my mate have the kind of friendship where we tease each other, make stupid jokes, and often say the same thing at the same time. It's really nice to have that kind of support net when I feel stranded in my own home, with my soul mate out of reach for whatever reason. This weekend especially, I really needed that.

This friend, I'll call him Zed, turned 17 yesterday. I was openly invited to go to lunch with him, his wonderful mum and Zed's grandma at a cafe/restaurant that's near the lighthouse where I live. I was introduced as Lorcan, of course, and I was a hit.

She complimented me on my haircut, said I was handsome and intelligent. Afterwards, she asked Zed's mum on the phone why he isn't more like me. So it seems I'm pretty much accepted into the family. I got away with lighthearted jokes about me and Zed's mate, and everyone laughed. I feel awesome about that.

I had my hair like this. Also look Karl yay. Shut up Moony I think he's brilliant.

A family friend visited while I was there, and once more I was accepted as male, got to talk about Moony for a while, and me and Zed contentedly freaked the poor woman out with our 'complicated lingo' (the code is Tumblr.)

At the end of the day, it kinda sucked to go home. My room is somehow already a mess, even though I barely spent time in it. But for realsies this time, Moony will be here tonight. I'll go pick her up at the station and our affection will freak out the locals.

And now we have the part of the post where I awkwardly link to the title.

Sleeping in Zed's room is really cool, because he has a really minimalist layout, and it's very different to my room. I got an awesome space-theme duvet - I have a space-theme thing at the moment, in case anyone is new here and doesn't know that yet - and it was sort of like being room mates or something.

I kept being woken up by the sun from about 8am onwards because the edge of the blind lined up with where I was sprawled out and I ended up laying with an arm over my face to block the bastard out. But it was at moments like that this weekend that I've wondered what I'd change if I could. God knows I'd be on testosterone by now, my name would be changed, and I'd love to be in Brighton by now, but then I'd miss moments like this, moments of just hanging out with my best friend, making stupid jokes to give the other person equal amounts of humour and pain.

Of course, this weekend could have been better spent with Moony, but since I was forced to find my own amusement, it was a good way to pass time.

I dig down deeper, and you fall so much faster.

Today isn't how I expected to spend my Saturday 13th of July.

I'm not in Bournemouth. I couldn't sleep all night, I'm still exhausted. I kept waking and thinking it had to be late, but by the time I gave up it was only 9:17, the time I would have been in Bournemouth to meet Jake. Or, the time me, Jake and Moony would have been there to meet the group.

I spent a few hours in my room, trying to ignore everything, and found that when I laugh, it hurts.

Let me tell you a short story.

A while ago, my phone died for three days due to the influx of texts it kept getting, and I couldn't get a new one, or get to a reliable internet source. It broke me, I was a complete mess. My parents told me to shut up, to sort myself out because it's not like me and Moony are married or anything.

We don't talk about those three days, because they were the darkest days of my life. I don't remember much past complete pain, sending packed e-mails of my day each day to Moony through school.

But it was horrible. This is what it feels like. Did you know you can actually die of a broken heart? It can cause the heart to malfunction until you die because your beloved died.

I wouldn't believe it unless I was experiencing it.

But my best friend demanded I stay at his for the night, to get me out of the triggering environment. And if that isn't one of the most amazing things anyone has done for me, I dunno what is. We're just watching films, having a Karl Urban marathon, and a Marvel marathon. His mum is fantastic.

Me and Moony sorted out our sort-of argument. We were both emotionally compromised yesterday and said stuff we shouldn't have. It's alright though, because we know we'll never stop loving each other, and that's enough to get us through anything.

But now she's gone to have a drink with some friends, and I'm gonna watch DOOM, because it's a completely amazing film that is like watching back my childhood (because I played it a lot, not because I ran around killing aliens as an eight year old.) We're nearly one day closer, one day through the sudden hell we didn't expect ourselves to be in.


And if this posts seemed more disjointed than usual because my other posts are so very well structured then you can blame Tony Stark and his PTSD.

Decisions decisions.

Okay. A decision has been made.

I'm not going to Bournemouth. I can't.

Where's the fucking Pride in being somewhere when your partner should be but is at home alone.

Actually alone. No family.

I can't do that.

So my best friend has demanded I stay with him to avoid triggers and still talk to Moony because he's one of the few people that get that I need to talk to her a lot. Especially right now.

Pride will be here next year.

Not going to bother with an appropriate title any more.

Update. The worst fucking thing is she was 15 minutes from landing.

That just puts everything into perspective.

We've been waiting so long, I've been counting down hours and minutes since last week. I've been going on about how soon we'll see each other, planning how I'm going to latch on and refuse to let go, and 15 minutes before she lands it goes to shit.

I can't describe how that makes me feel. I already tried, just a few minutes ago in my last post. But that's horrible. To be that close and have everything ripped away, I can't expect anyone else to get that.

I fucking hate everything this evening turned into. Instead of the best day it has become the worst.

However.

On an unrelated note, I gave a man called Joseph £2 because he introduced himself to me and my mate and said he was trying to raise enough to get a room for the night, because he was homeless. I think between us we funded enough for him. Since I very nearly found myself in the same situation tonight, I saw myself in his words for a moment, and had to do what I could.

I never usually do that, never offer assistance. I'm barely able to scrape by on my own, but it's that kind of day that I wanted someone to feel relief.

So it might have been a bad move, but I feel a bit better knowing I got someone a bed for the night.

I'm not o-fucking-kay.

Moony's flight screwed up.

She had to be sent home.

She won't be here until Monday night.

When I found out, I felt so sick I nearly ran to the bathroom, and it has only recently gone away to be replaced by the crippling agony of devastation.

I left my bedroom this morning with my only concern being that we'd be on the streets tonight. To be honest, I was prepared for it. I've always wondered what it would be like, and while it wasn't ideal, we'd be together. I hadn't anticipated that there might be a problem with the plane.

It seems like a plane caught fire in Heathrow, so the Gothenburg flight had to be redirected. Once they'd landed on Swedish soil again, Heathrow was open. Fucking typical.

I feel disconnected. I don't understand why this had to happen to us now. I'm devastated. My friend, who's dad was kind enough to offer us lodgings, tried to cheer me up, but it's difficult when right now, I should be waiting for Moony. I can't breathe properly, I've got a headache, I'm constantly close to breaking down.

And now I have the dilemma of Pride.

I'm torn. I don't want to go because Moony isn't there, and I don't want to upset her by going. Well, I already have by saying I want to. But here's the thing.

Being at home is like being in prison. I get triggered daily, I can't be myself, I get verbally abused and nobody seems to have any respect for what I want. But I want to be in Bournemouth tomorrow.

Pride is like being at group, where everyone understands, everyone sympathises. But on a wider scale. The atmosphere is brilliant, and even if I can't be happy, I can appreciate everyone else being happy.

I have to kill this weekend somehow and moping around at home isn't going to do any favours. I'm going to spend it hating myself and the universe in general.

I spend so much of my life not doing something because I hate confrontation and change. I've filled out the name changing forms about 20 times now and I never go through with it because I'm scared of what my family will say to me. I never correct my family for naming or gendering me wrong because I know they don't want to hear it and won't try to get it.

I don't want this to be another one of those things that I could have gone to, something I could have felt a little more normal at, but I passed it up. Hell, I fought to get to London on November 2nd 2011, and I met the person I'm spending my life with.

But I don't want Moony to think this is more important than her, because it fucking isn't. But... I don't know what else to do. I can't be here, though, having to handle my mum saying 'it's just a few days, why the hell are you so upset?' like she already called me to do while I was nearly breaking down on the train home.

I can't handle it. I need to get out some energy.

I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry I'm not going to be here tomorrow. I'm sorry I upset you. I'm sorry about this entire thing and I'm sorry I'm too weak to not go. But this situation, it almost feels like I have even more reason. I need to be reminded that it's alright, and there is still actual hope in the world for people like us. I'm a tosser, I know, but in the evening I'll be back, and we can write, and it'll be one day closer. Again.

I just hope this doesn't become another thing I look back on and hate myself for. Please. Forgive me.

I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out.

I'm going to Bournemouth for the weekend on Friday, where I will meet Moony that night where her coach will drop her off. In honesty, the next time I write a post will probably be when I'm with her, and that's going to be a welcome change.

Originally, we were going to stay with a really good friend of mine, but of course his mum has decided to pull back her offer and she's a stubborn woman.

It's left us with nowhere to stay overnight. The original plan was to stay until Sunday evening, to stay away from home for as long as possible, but I don't think that's possible now.

I sent an e-mail to my therapist, asking him to send out a mass e-mail or text, and I pretty much begged for a place to stay, a couch. We could get the train to Weymouth and hope for the best, but Moony has travelled enough by that point, and I'd rather not go back so soon. Not to mention I have no idea if I can afford that.

As it stands, I will have £53.75 by the end of the week. £10 of that is really supposed to go towards paying for my last two therapy sessions. £30 was supposed to be for my holiday because otherwise I've got nothing to pay my own way with. It's probably going to be £7.50 to get to Bournemouth once I get the bus as far as I can go and follow it up with the train, because I finally screwed up and was an idiot and lost my bus pass today so I can't luck my way onto a bus into Poole. And £9 something to get home, combined with bus fares.

In short, it's going to be a very rough weekend in terms of money management. I'm going to ask for more to get food, but I'm pushing it by needing money just to get to school, and we're incredibly low on money right now.

But, it's just 48 hours until I get to be with Moony again. My therapist promised to do what he can to sort out the situation for us, and I just have to hope somebody is as friendly as the first time I went there and got a lift all the way home (details some way back in my blog, probably about February).

Something I like about Bournemouth is that pretty much whenever I'm there, I'm only within two or so days away from seeing Moony. It's an accidental realisation, but one all the same. Every time I have a holiday I go to group, and I get to see Moony somehow. That's the only main points in my holidays.

This is another one of those events that is stressing me out but I'm strangely calm about it. I think because it's physically a long way away, I haven't registered how serious it is yet. Besides, I'll be with Moony. Worst things could happen.

Though really, I shouldn't even be worrying about this. I don't have to deal with it until tomorrow. I do, however, have to work on my Personal Statement for University. Anybody in the UK will understand how much this sucks. I don't know if other countries have the same. If you don't, feel bloody lucky.

Maybe one day I'll finish things on time and not need to get work done the night before. But today is not that day.