Ten Years

Once upon a time I wore jeans

A decade is a weird amount of time, it seems such a short amount of time, but at the same time it's quite a while, ten percent of a life (roughly).

Ten years ago I was a very different person, I was a lot younger (obviously), and going through what I still regard as the worst year of my life.

As I said a few days back I was very lonely at that point in my life, it was also the year that all of my illusions about who I was and who other people were were totally shattered, mother wasn't always right and neither was I, in fact became pretty convinced I was always wrong.

If I had been asked ten years ago what I thought I'd be doing now, I'd have made up some twee lie, but really I'd have thought that I wouldn't be here at all, I honestly couldn't see a way out of what I was going through, although eventually I managed to convince myself that if I could just keep painting on the big fake smile my life would be my own soon and things would be better, and while it didn't quite work totally to my plan it kind of worked and I'm still here, mostly in control of my own life.

So where will I be in ten more?

Well I'll be married (unless it takes us a really long time to save for it), living in a house again rather than a flat with paper thin walls and a drip in the ceiling, hopefully I will be self employed and it will be working out and I will be as happy (if not happier) than I am now.