For a good few years (mainly the ones from when I started being interested in boys to a couple of years ago, which is a lot of years) I was something of a tart. Not a whore, or anything, although somehow I got that reputation without even having sex, but the kind of girl who picks up, plays with and puts down guys. A total flirt. And a slight homewrecker too, I'll admit.
I never stayed with a guy for more than a couple of months. My longest relationship was 6 months and that was only some sort of comfort thing. I got in with the wrong crowds and ended up doing a bunch of things I regret; smoking being one of them. And those friends always stabbed me in the back. I mean always.
But I won't go into details about that whole period in my life. That is probably for another day, when I meander back to the past and pick it to pieces.
So basically, to get to the point, I never thought I would be saying that I have been with my boyfriend for a year and a half and I have no intention of letting him go. And I love him lots (and I'm fairly sure he loves me back).
In fact, I have never been so happy in my life. I have a boyfriend who loves me, a load of great friends (old and new), a place of my own (ok, I'm renting it and I havn't moved in yet, but it's still mine) and I'm going to uni and studying something interesting and fun. My life feels on track (despite me being bored as hell this holiday).
I have a good few things to look forward to in the coming months and hopefully in that same time I can go do more photography to put on Flickr (see 'Why Photography is no longer my hidden talent' blog for more details). I also may do a bit of charity work to keep up the feel good vibe.
Wish me luck!