I must ask for your forgiveness.
Just the other day I wrote the most baffling, embarassing first blog entry.
Sadly, now that it’s a done deal I’m afraid it would be quite unfair to delete it. Not that I’m actually sorry I posted it. After searching for hours about how to make a first blog entry and after days of fretting on that question, it seems that drinking two litres of red wine, some traumatic pre-exam stress and an almost tragically saddened heart was what I needed to boost my confidence on writing to you.
Don’t get me wrong. I would have written eventually. It was always in me.It was just laid deep within, waiting for that one day I begin.
But it was hard. The blogs I follow are of amazing people, writing about just as equally amazing stuff. And not just that! Oh, no! Not even a little bit.. The words they choose, the style they write in..
Every time I read a new blog post from one of them, my heart rejoices! Every word makes my heart feel awe-striken and my mind.. Well, I hope you get the idea.
And here I am, writing a blog. A blog, I am not yet certain what it would be about. A blog, filled with my hopes on becoming just as interesting and amusing as the ones I mentioned just a second ago.
So, to start off good, I think I must say a few words about myself.
Firstly, I am a student at the age of twenty-one in Bulgaria’s University of Plovdiv. I bet you instantly thought about how wonderful the life of a student must be. Youth, parties, alcohol and ,of course occasionally – the wild power,called drugs.
Well, I’m sorry to burst the bubble, but I never and have never in my life done drugs. Except nicotine and caffeine – my friendly emotional calmers. On the other hand – I do alcohol. As long as it’s not rum or clean vodka, I can drink it with pleasure.
For the record – Yes, I know how that sounds. And I’m sorry if you, my dearest reader, are a person who does not and/or cannot accept that. I’m not going to write about my addictions though.Be sure of it.
Where were we? Ah, right.
I’m a third year, bachlor’s degree in Applied Linguistics with English and Italian Languages and Literature. I have a cat, still in the prime of her puberty and an obsessing love for good books. The perfect day would consist of a novel, a blanket, rain and some red wine. If a candle lit bath can fit somewhere there, well, I’d say I’m in heaven.
My last relationship just went downheel, so romance is something I dread at the moment. I won’t tell on all of his faults. I know he isn’t the one to blame for this ruin. I know it’s just all me. Or, if to be more precise – I fear letting myself fall for someone. I fear it to the depth of my bones.
So, dearest reader, how does a person with a sea-deep emotional fear of attachments can have a good, stable relationship? The answer is – they don’t. They can only try to have it by trying to fight their fear, eventually falling down and rising up again.
The thing is noone can fight a battle alone.
With love and a warm smile in this rainy 1am,