Dear Teenage Diary,
Back to school today and I started off quite optimistic. OK so it was a bit of a chore getting up at 7am when I’ve been used to getting up at 9.30am, but apart from that everything seemed fine. That was until I got to the bus stop. It was something Denise told me. Apparently Terence told Les that he’d gone for a job and if he didn’t get it he wasn’t going to come back after Christmas. Of course I hadn’t been told any of this, so I was, well angry more than upset, so I decided that I’d phone him up and set things straight. I worried about it all day, pondering on what to say to him let alone how I was going to say it. I never bother phoning in the end though, because Denise got it convinced in my head that he’d got the job, and to tell you the truth I couldn’t be bothered to waste the money in the phone box. Anyway, come 7.45pm the phone rang and yes you guessed it, it was him. The best bit was he was phoning from the phone box in Hullavington (!!) and was asking me to meet him. I couldn’t believe it. All my worries dissolved away.
I was actually quite nervous because I hadn’t seen him in a long time and I didn’t really know what to do or say. It was fine though, when I went out. Straight away he hugged me and everything was alright again. He gave me my Christmas present and had written a really sweet message in the card. He’d bought me a gold necklace with an ‘R’ as a charm on it, it’s so sweet. He told me his mum had chosen it, which kind of makes it a little less thoughtful, but it’s kind of sweet that he had to take his mum with him. Anyway, my life seems complete again now that he’s back. His mate Stuzi said that next time Terence goes back up he’s got to bring me and we’ll all go to this nightclub called ‘The Rooftops’. That would be so smart. I’ve never been to a nightclub before.
*All names have been changed from those in my monthly teenage diary to protect the not so innocent.
Remember to come back tomorrow for the next instalment of my 1995 teenage diary.
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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.