This year will be better. Not because it's "my year", because I will make it better. I will deserve my happiness. I will choose what makes me happy. I will let go of the things that hold me back.

So I have to let go.

This is my last post on this blog. Maybe one day I'll blog again, but not here. There's nothing left for me here but painful memories of a hard year. So thank you, whoever is still reading this. Writing for you has been a lot of fun, but I need a fresh start.

And if I can leave you with anything, let it be this: love yourself fiercely, and good will follow.

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My name is Elise. I am nineteen years old. I am bilingual. I really like orange juice.

I like to laugh. It's not always natural for me to laugh, but I do my best to be nothing but a positive force. I like to laugh at New Girl. I laugh at funny videos of kids. I think it's hilarious to butcher various languages for comedy. Holla. Me llamo Elise. Yo soy muy funny.

I also cry quite a lot. I cry during the 5th and 8th Harry Potter films. I cry during my feminist rants. I cry when I see old people eating alone. I cry when I unexpectedly encounter Scottish people. I also cry when people shout at me. Not as much nowadays, but always when I was little.

I live in the future a lot. Mentally, I mean. I often think about my husband. I think about travelling. I think about surfing in Hawaii. I think about flats in skyscrapers in New York with big windows. I think about my first rescue pitbull. I think about holding poor children. I think about boarding planes. I think about bumpy landings. I like to dream about all the good things that await me.

I like to think that I'm quite brave. But for there to be bravery there must be fear. I'm deathly afraid of the ocean. It's the only phobia I've identified. I'm afraid of touching people. Not many have shown an appreciation for that one of my love languages. I'm afraid of spiders. I think I had too much of them when I went to Tanzania. I'm afraid of telling people I love them. They don't always say it back. I'm afraid of heights. Or maybe falling, rather. I'm afraid of being myself with people. I've heard the word "annoying" used to describe me once too many.

I'm good at making friends, most of the time. I'm good at writing. I'm good at starting projects. I'm good at motivating others. Once, in a dream, I saved the king of Camelot by turning the people to his favour with a beautiful and very dramatic speech. I'm ambitious. I'm a hard worker. I love myself. I also give of myself.

I'm not great at running. I'm really bad at physics. I'm selfish sometimes. I bore easily. I'm absolute crap at going to bed at a sensible time. I don't do well with shy people. I'm helplessly attracted to "bad boys". Cringe, I know. I'm not very good at living in the present. I like to plan and dream and ponder. I'm also bad at housework. And relationships. Well, getting into relationships. I've never been successful at it yet. I'm not good at listening to songs all the way through.

All of that, and countless other things, make me. And I love me. I love me very, very much.

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Inspired by wifey, I just looked back through my last handful of posts. It's been a while since I posted here, and I think whatever miniscule audience I had has gone. But that's okay.

You may recall me writing a blog post about life being gentle. Gently difficult and gently nice. I was reading that and thinking about life, and I realized that I don't like it. I hate mediocre, can't stand average. There are few things I'd hate to be more than nothing in particular. Gentle is not for me. I am made of passionate ideas and blazing emotion, built to endure war and storms. "Gently" isn't me.

Give me adversity. Give me shattering pain or nothing at all. Make me thankful I'm alive, make me feel my existance. Or, you know, make me choke on my joy and love. Fill me with so much euphoria and excitement that I physically can't breathe. I don't like this whole "gently" thing. What even is that? No, I want to leap and soar and fall and bruise, and I want to feel every moment of it.

I am not made for "gently".

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Five years ago, a woman I dearly love and look up to completely told me that one of the things in this world I love most will always be there to welcome me home, and today I felt the truth behind those words. And I can't stop crying, because God, this means so much to me and I can't express with words how gut-wrenchingly happy it makes me to be back. You'd have to see me, crying uncontrollable, wrapped in my duvet on my bed half an hour after the end of the new beginning, to even understand a pinch of how much this means to me.

I am back. We are back. We are home.

And sure enough, I was warmly welcomed.

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I'm having one of those nights where my heart just longs for my future. I'm an ambitious, hopeful, optimistic person, and I'm hell bent on making my dreams reality, so for me the perfect future isn't a question of if, it's a question of when. And right now, I wish when was now.

Nowadays I often find myself being happy with how things are. I enjoy being young and growing and developing and working out what I want and what I love and who I am. But tonight, I feel empty in my bed-for-one in my disgustingly messy room-for-one, in my parents flat in the town I've lived in for ten years.

Tonight I wish I could turn over and huddle closer to a husband. Someone that I know that I'll be with forever. I want to be in a flat that feels like my own, I want to have a family of my own, a dog perhaps, routines and planners and a clean, beautiful environment. I want to play board games with my best friends and their husbands and I want to have brunch dates with my girls. I want to curl up with my soulmate to pray and read the Bible and wonder over our God together. I want to work with something that I love, so I can focus on climbing to the top rather than finding the ladder.

My heart is aching tonight, but that's okay. One day I know I'll fall asleep to the sound of a snoring husband and dog, knowing I'll wake up to beautiful, happy kids, and I'll have a passport full of stamps from my travels and I'll write in my planner and my journal. I'll eat a healthy breakfast, I'll drink cold brew and orange juice, I'll go to a job that I don't long to get home from and I'll feel full.

Tonight just isn't that night.

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Yesterday was low-key, cozy, and wonderful. Mum and dad took me out to breakfast, Wifey and I went out for fika and lunch (most filling. greek salad. EVER.), and I spent the evening with my church family. Good day, great people, greatest God.

Here's to my last year as a teenager. 19, here I come.

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Paydaaaaay = bill paying.

So today I worked and made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning my room and lamented that one of my besties are sick and won't be able to celebrate my bday with me. But oh well. It'll be a good day all the same.

Wearing this dope-ass jumper today, and I've booked one ticket to Stockholm for this Friday (more like FriYAY) and I've also booked another trip that I'll be making in a month. #teaser

Now, I'm going to clean my room up some more (so I can take semi-decent pictures tomorrow) and then I'm going to get an early nights sleep. I'll see y'all tomorrow.

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I'm in bed and I'm going to go to sleep soon. I've had far too many late nights lately, and I really want to work towards becoming a morning person. It's going to be tricky, since I work a lot of night shifts, but I'm going to give it a try. I feel like my whole life will just align beautifully as soon as I clean my room and sort out my eating and sleeping habits.

Things are... gentle right now. I think that's the best way I can describe it. Most of life is just gentle. I went to the optician recently and earned a bunch of grownup points. I really need to speak to my dentist about my disastrous front teeth. I also need a haircut. I have a plan, a goal, a job, some structure, but not so much that it smothers me. Things are gently difficult and gently nice. I've found peace with who I am and where I'm going.

I'm seriously considering starting a journal. I've thought a lot recently about how much I wish I could read about my younger self and my thoughts on things, so I won't lose my perspective when I grow and forget, and now I just need to work out how I want to do it. I've seen some cool books that I'm considering, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I might use this blog. I might start a new one so I've got some more privacy than I've got now. We'll just have to see.

Also, it's my birthday in two days. #yas

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