I got back from my week and a day at Jak's yesterday. It was really good to be there in some ways and not good at all in some others. The first few nights were really lovely because I think we both missed each other a lot. We really spent time talking and being together properly at night. When we had sex it was the closest thing to "making love", that stupid cheesey over-said expression that people use to soothe their own consciences, that I've ever had. I felt like we really appreciated each other. We have had lots of conversations about sex, and how we feel about certain things and experimenting with each other and I feel a lot more comfortable. Sometimes I felt hurt when he asked me to do try some things because I worried that he was trying to get me to emulate something some other ex-girlfriend did, like I was still filling the gap of someone else and I had someone else's actions to live up to. I hated that and it made me shut down and act defensive and not want to have sex at all, which is not like me, and he knows it. So we both ended up feeling bad about it. Now I think we understand each other about certain things. I try not to feel self-conscious about my body and focus on my faults and I've been getting there recently. I never worry if my thighs are too wobbly or my boobs too small when we're in bed together, which I'm thankful for, but I still feel negative about my body and if I'm honest I have no idea where to start about improving things by getting fit. I always say that I will make the effort and try; start this or that activity, but the reality of the situation is that I'm terrified and self-conscious because I don't like exercise, I don't want anyone to know in case it doesn't happen and I don't want anyone to see me because I feel nervous and stupid. It's like being back in PE again with a load of popular girls watch me do my year 7 gymnastics routine and not being able to do a cartwheel. Maybe I will find something that fits at some point. I wish I had the money for a posh gym membership and a personal trainer to get me going. We argued a bit because he argues with his mum and it makes me feel awkward. Karen is difficult to live with at the best of times but then so is he when he's around her. He doesn't always respond in the best way; when they've previously been at each others' throats any word from her can prompt a seemingly-unwarranted response from him and it even started to get to me after a while. Then again, she is a complete bitch and I don't like her most of the time. Some of the time she is nice in the same way any nice person is, but most of the time I have to agree with his opinion that she does nice things for the wrong reasons, like to appear as if Jak is the one who starts every argument and to get me on her side, or to get under people's skin in some other way. She's a strange mix of calculating schemer, unthinking, uncaring idiot and nice-to-bitch in zero seconds. We fell out at one point one night, because he acted really badly during the day and it made me feel bad. I told him he was acting like a child. I felt guilty about it afterwards, but I am determined to be honest with him when there is something I don't like between us because of four years of denial with David. He ended up getting really upset and tearful, in the dark, while we were in bed. He said he doesn't feel like any of his family care about him, and that his friends are slipping away from him. I felt at a loss because I know his family and friends care deep down, especially his mum, but they seem incapable of showing it, especially his mum. She says some horrible things whilst I'm there so I dread to think what she says when I'm not there to witness it and judge her. During the last argument of the week she yelled out, effing and blinding and calling Jak a cunt and a bastard, that the next time he has a seizure she's not going to call an ambulance and she's going to leave him to die. For me, it's just inconceivable how anyone can say that to their son when the worst he's ever done is have a serious medical condition and not been perfect. He has been very sweet since I came back. He also asked me today why I always dismiss him when he jokingly mentions us having children or getting married, jokingly says such and such. I said I needed to because if I start seeing us as a couple who's future is in marriage and children and building a life together I will be twice as devastated if and when we break up. Translation: I'm scared. I'm scared of fooling myself and making things worse and I'm scared that I'm nearly twenty and I'm starting to realise that this is actually my life and I might be wasting it. I love him so much I don't want to tempt fate by imagining us staying together and being together for longer than the next ten or twelve months. Sleep well my love. You'll be in my thoughts and my heart always. Jak xXx The train journey on the way back up was terrible but today was okay. I didn't get much done because I didn't wake up until two in the afternoon when Jak rang me. I should set an alarm tonight. I can't sleep. I know it's not because I'm not tired because I feel horrible but I can't seem to get my brain to switch off. I keep thinking about me and Jak and all my family and how much I love them. I wonder whether I let them know enough and I always feel bad because I never seem to talk properly to my granny, things are always just a little awkward and we're not used to being alone together. I suppose that's what comes from having a sibling, because probably he was always there when we were together as an extra buffer. I wonder about all the things she's been through and experienced in her life and I know I should ask her before she goes completely senile and it's too late, and before she dies. I fast forward five years sometimes and the best I can see is her being ill and alone in her house, her being in a home, or being dead. And then it'll all be too late and I worry that she won't know how much I care. It's all very well and good saying that I'll change everything and let her know how much I care but it's too hard. My parents have never said the words, "I love you", to me, never needed to, so it's kind of taboo. It's awkward to show emotion. We all know that we care but it never gets said. Maybe it doesn't need to be said. But the outcome is that I feel like conversation is limited to small pigeonholed topics and I can't just come out with a question that's been bugging me, like who is my mum's dad, and how old was she when he died, and from what? How did my granny cope and how long were she and Fred married afterwards? I've never been told these things and it seems impossible to ask. I wish the barrier of awkwardness was gone for a while so that I could find out more. If I sit and think about the life she's had it makes my head spin. I don't know whether anyone of my age or younger can fully appreciate the rapidity of change there's been since the beginning of the twentieth century. Has there ever been a comparable lifespan where the world changed so rapidly? In the thirties, the way people lived was so immensely different in so many ways, and what can only ever be a fabrication in my imagination was real to them like now is real to me. I think I'm crazy sometimes because as I sit in my house or I look out of the window of the train I want to cry because I think how much we've changed the world and how obvious it is that it's too late to go back. Who would actually want to? I know lots of things are better now, but I look at the greyness we've imposed upon the landscape, those rough northern townscapes with bleak rows of terraced houses and skylines on the TV with skyscrapers and towers mingled with the idea of the purity of the planet before we came along and I feel so disheartened. If we transported someone from the thirteenth century to the modern world they'd be completely baffled. It's a different world now, and what has civilisation really brought us? Is there enough goodness to rule out all the bleakness, the destruction and the heartache? Sometimes I try and convince myself that it's a good thing I know my limitations and my flaws. But it's hard because I want to know everything, I want to be the best, I want to be someone who can defend themselves with one speedy argument that proves my worth and what I'm doing here. What I am at the moment doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for my conscience to know that I'm slightly more intelligent than average, that I love and am loved, and that I enjoy my life. I want to feel more special than that. In the world there's so much competition, and I hate it, but at the same time I just want to have one thing, one important thing that I can hold close to my chest as a trump card so that I can get on with everything without punishing myself.