Yesterday, I felt like a little housewife and it felt so strange. I'd be a shit housewife, mainly on account of not being married, but also because I can't sew for shit. But I cooked, cleaned, did the food shopping, did the laundry, stitched my jacket, did a little work and at one point I stopped to think and I wish I hadn't.
When did this happen? I don't remember growing up. I don't remember becoming the kind of person who stitches jackets or gets excited about bedding and kitchenware. I suppose it happens to everybody. It must have happened while I wasn't looking.
It seems like my whole life has happened while I wasn't looking over these last few years. Here I am, last ever lecture tomorrow, all my assignments due in by the end of this month, graduation in July. Seems the only person who isn't happy for me right now is me. I can't stop crying tonight. I really, unexpectedly, don't want to leave. If you'd told me four years ago that I'd feel like this, I'd have laughed in your face. It's all happened too fast. I'd like another go, please. I'm not ready for this ride to finish just yet. I couldn't have asked for a better experience, but I'd just like to have it again. Just for another year or two.
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