January Hues

Happy New Year!

On New Years Eve, my close friends and I, dressed up in our best attire and sat indoors, in the heart of London, planning our future. We created passion plans whilst sipping rose tea and eating oven-baked finger food. I woke up on New Year’s Day with a clear plan, a clear head, and a clear conscience. Hello 2019, it is so good to see you!

During the weekend of the 12th January, I booked my first destination. I had to do it. The only way that I could confirm to myself that this was actually going to happen was to confirm it through ‘booking.com’. It is official. First stop Paris; the city of love and romance. The main reason for Paris? It offers the best direct flights to New York. It figures that this is where I would start my journey. I mean, I travel to Paris on the 17th April-my one year anniversary of sobriety. During this year, I have been getting to know myself; ‘dating’ one might say. Myself and I have gotten to know one another on a much deeper level of recent, and have become a lot closer (and stronger) than we have before. I might even be as bold as to say that I have developed some feelings towards myself. Some may say, love. Where better to celebrate this relationship and the love that I have acquired, than the city of love itself; Paris.

Now this relationship has not been easy. We have had our highs and our lows, like any relationship I guess. It has most certainly been an abusive one in many ways; through the narrow alleys of drink, bullying, and negligence. Dare I use the phrase of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel? Guess I just have.

Ok, perhaps I am convincing myself through cyber convictions that I am completely fine with myself being….dare I say it….alone. I am not alone, I know. But, I am, you know? Think about it Ben; You rarely like compromising your itineraries whilst travelling. You are there to see, so you shall discover! Though, if I am not afraid, why has it taken me so long to write about this? Even now, as I sit here typing away, I have become so aware and anxious of what I am writing. Hitting the backspace bar like ‘Whac-A-Mole’ when any negative thoughts pop up to show their ugly head.

It is happening. I am doing it. I took a wild card and ran with it. I fought my corner. The family now approve, the letter of resignation has been accepted, the travel bag has been packed (yes, already), and I sit here with my whole life planned out for the next god knows how many months, with the rest up in the air. The impulse has worn off, and I am questioning my motives and once again, myself. This is natural, right? What am I doing? What is going to happen when I come back? Rather than looking forward to what I may gain from this departure, I am already in fear of returning to nothing.

I have worked so hard over these last ten months to build-a-Ben that I could be proud of. I feel that I am on my way to achieve this, but so worried that this journey leading down the path of travel may stray me away from my path of arrival. However, I did not decide to sacrifice that darker shade of blue just to live a brighter shade of Ben within the comfort and safety of my bedroom. I did it so I could experience a broader palette of life.

I want to share this side of the journey as well as the filtered features that I hope to socially parade on my public profile like a peacock during my time away, as I want to document all the hues from stone to sapphire. It adds texture.

I am excited. I am proud. I am scared. I am apprehensive. I am worried. I am human.

January blues are over. Hello February, I hope we can swiftly move on to the next shade on our colour wheel.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s