My Teenage Diary Series – January 16th 1995

Dear Teenage Diary,

My moods and emotions are just manic. I went round Sheila’s tonight, because we were going to make Valentine’s messages to hopefully get printed in a magazine. We made two up, but luckily for me we couldn’t get through. I went down and met Terence at the bus stop and it finally hit me, I realised that I really don’t fancy him any more. The feelings just aren’t there any more. I rally don’t know what to do about it. I mean I’ve thought about it and I think I want to split up with him but I don’t know how to do it because whatever I do I know it will hurt him. At the moment I’m just sort of being really edgy and sarcastic with him and he’s not phoning me again until Wednesday. And I bet then I’ll just tell him that I can’t go out. I know me, I’ll put off dumping him until the very last minute by which time he’ll probably have guessed and will have done it himself. That’s what happened with Les and that was a really painful way of doing it.

I’m not going to do it over the phone, because I really don’t believe in that. I guess I’ll just talk about it with Sheila tomorrow. I want to do it in person, but I really haven’t got the guts. I hate to be so harsh, but if I don’t fancy him any more and he really doesn’t give me any space then there’s no point in continuing this relationship. Which I knew wasn’t going to last very long right from the start.

I can see this being a very long week.

*All names have been changed from those in my monthly teenage diary to protect the not so innocent.

Remember to come back Monday for the next instalment of my 1995 teenage diary.


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Author Bio

Becky Stafferton is a full time blogger over on her website The Art of Healthy Living, mum of 2 and certified Queen of the hashtags. She continually strives to promote a realistic, sustainable and positive image of how to lead a healthy life. When she’s not writing or reading her teenage diary she can be found swigging Prosecco from the bottle, running through muddy puddles, making lists of lists, having a good old moan, scoffing flapjacks and squatting like her life depends on it.

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