Sunday, December 10: Night out with the girls at Cream Bistro. It's been so long since we last hung out together, all of us, and I don't believe I've ever hung out with Chloe before (apart from the night after Mag's mock trial). It was just really nice being with friends you're completely comfortable with. Mag, as always, was the bringer of the lame. What else is new, right? I think so too. I've always been so much happier having a small close-knit group of friends than truckloads of acquaintances to whom I have absolutely nothing to say.
The past few days have been delirious and for once in quite a while, I'm genuinely happy. It's happiness of the real kind, the sort that subtly and gently settles within you, giving you peace of mind and a tranquil sense of security. It's not flamboyant, it's not in-your-face, it doesn't ignite fireworks within you and neither does it inspire sleepless nights and silly grins to yourself - and that's exactly the way it should be. I'm not 16, not anymore; being 16 once is enough to last me an entire lifetime.
Subtlety is underrated, happiness often misconstrued. I never knew I'd realise what it means to be happy, as opposed to exhilarated.
We don't live for the moment enough. I'm a firm believer in going with the flow; carpe diem, and everything falls into place. The rest of it will sort themselves out when the time comes. It's about one day at a time.
It's about ripping off the Band-Aid; I'm a firm believer in that, too. So when it's reciprocated everything makes even more sense.
Julian Barnes wrote in England, England: "[In] the past he had noticed how being with a woman changed your sense of time: how lightly poised the present could be, how trudging the past, how elastic, how metamorphic the future."
Such beautiful, beautiful prose.