x x x

I was never good at maths in school. I never was able to thrive in getting wonderful results, my brain was always much more apt for the arts, things like reading and writing, making art, discovering.
But in the last several weeks, maybe since just after the new year, I've only become interested in numbers..
The last two weeks for me have been difficult. I'm trying to lose a significant amount of weight before my 21st birthday, and while I'm keeping up, and even some weeks exceeding, the goals that I need to hit in order to be where I want when I turn 21, I'm struggling.
No. I'm not so much struggling.. I'm obsessing.

Last Wednesday I weighed myself eight times. I know deep down that my weight ha no correlation of what kind of a person I am, or how good my writing is, or how my friends and family think of me, but this core truth is giving me no relief in my present everyday life.

I've been on the hunt for a certain pair of jeans for some months now, and while I have found jeans of that style, I'd never found them in the shape or colour that I wanted. Last week I found a pair in Penneys which were everything I ever wanted and more, and were only €17. I got them in the same size that I had bought jeans in in Penneys last week, but when I got them home to try them on, I could only pull them half way up my thigh. As I sat in bed and cried for a while, I realized that my self worth was directly correlated to my failure of fitting into the jeans. 
I went back the other day and changed them, for a size which was two bigger than that I had originally bought. And as I got home to try them on, they fit so well and they looked so good but I wondered if I would ever be able to love my body, or even like my body, or go on a night out and not think that people are looking at me, offended by my body. 

Moving forward, I don't know what I will do about the way I feel. 
But I will continue to lose weight in the hopes that soon I see a change in myself and my body. 
I will continue to plan and anticipate my 21st birthday.
And most importantly, I won't give up. No matter how much I want to. 

I am thankful for those around me that love and support me, and make me feel a little less sad.

Love you and miss you,
Your Magic Maeve xo

sweet dreams are made of cheese x

I’m on a bus home to Wexford, it’s been a strange couple of days I guess and in turn the next couple of weeks are a little uncertain. But I’ll make the most of it, because I owe it to myself.

I came for a reason though; I came to let you know that I dreamt about you last night.
Well actually I didn’t dream of you in so many words, I had a dream and you were in it, making a guest appearance in my sleep. In the dream we (including but not limited to: Dad, Jack, Siobhan, Sarah, Ciara and I) were going somewhere on a drive, and we stopped to get petrol in a petrol station and everyone got out. As we were getting out of the car you appeared, looking the way that you did in later life (which was striking because I only imagine you younger). You approached and spoke to us for a while and although I’m not 100% sure what you said, your voice was so warm and loving.

Following this you asked us for a picture. Dad standing tall beside you, jack standing tall beside Dad, and I, stood so close that I would have been able to smell you if it was real, if you were real. It was in that moment that I was overcome with emotion, so much that it woke me from my sleep even though I was clambering so hard to get back down to some universe that you and I could exist parallel.

There are a number of reasons that I could have dreamt about you last night. Maybe because I had cheese just about I went to bed, or maybe because James sent me a picture of us together last week..

Or maybe it’s because you’re close..
Maybe the veil between our worlds is so thin that you can almost reach out and touch me.
If you can, do.
Continue to visit me in my sleep, so that I can know you a little better.

Missing you today.
Your Maeve, who also happens to be a wizard xo

An open letter in reply to the text you sent

For the last couple of days I’ve been debating whether or not to write a post addressing the text that you sent me the night before last but I’ve decided that I don’t care about the text that you sent, and I don’t care very much about you. So instead of writing about the sick feeling in my stomach when I read your message, I’m going to write about myself; because in all your talk about “trying to have good karma” in your life, you forgot to ask me about mine..

I keep leaving this post and coming back and writing and deleting and leaving, maybe it's because I don't care to write about you or maybe it's because I don't want to.. Because I've always felt that once you write something down in becomes real. But regardless, I will write because it's the only way I know how to make things better.

Although you didn't ask; I am in good form, and unlike you, my karma is always really good, this is probably because I ask about the people who serve me in shops and I let people get on buses before me and I always make sure to try and smile whenever I can. I am not saying that I am perfect, but I do not have to dig up old past to make myself feel better about the mistakes I've made.

There's no point in me lying, there are times when you cross my mind. There are times when I am reminded of the small fraction of time we spent together. But I feel grateful towards myself, because unlike you, I do not regret anything that I did. I never hurt you in the same ways that you hurt me. I never left you unsure and I never stood you up. I never made you feel anxious or uneasy, I never left you waiting.

Over the last two years, (although I have been consciously doing this my whole life) I have surrounded myself with people that have my back, that I can trust. I spend time with people that want to spend time with me, people who value my quirks and characteristics. People who enjoy my friendship. And to be honest Jake, the further away late November of 2015 is for me the less I seem to care about you.

This post is short, but for some reason I feel like it needs to be written. Probably to commemorate the feeble amount of time we spent together.
Don't bother texting again, I'm in love with somebody else.

The Young Adult Wizard who knows how she should be treated xo