I am a red-blooded male.

Quite often, I begin to write a blog entry at work whilst peering out the window admiring the sunshine and wondering why the sun never comes out when I'm out of the office. I quickly realise the answer: I'm never out of the office. Anyhow, I have four, five, maybe even six blog posts that are half-written that I've looked at at a later date and thought they were either overly creepy, depressing or downright whiney. I'm always cautious about coming across as a whiney git on here, not that I have anything to prove to my followers, but because the bottom line is that I am a red-blooded male in my early twenties who should not be writing a blog. We just don't. Blogs are for girls, right? They're the diary of the 21st Century and guys don't keep diaries.

Sometimes, when you get caught in a moment, at that point you're overflowing with emotion, be it anger, stress, confusion, infatuation. That tends to be when I start writing in this blog. And then a day later when I come back to the post, I find my circumstances have changed. Maybe I've just had a Caramac and it's completely taken care of that stress, or maybe I've just had a lovely date with Grace and I don't feel like having a rant about her anymore. Perhaps it's just better to post when you write it. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and I'm not sure when you look back on it you can always truly remember how you feel.

Except heartbreak, of course. You won't forget that bitch in a long time.

So Grace should be off to Canterbury in September for University. She's concerned about moving away, leaving home, having to fend for herself etc, so naturally being the model boyfriend that I am I'm there to comfort her and tell her that she will be fine, when in reality, she can't even work out how to load my dishwasher. But this made me think about when I left for University all those 6 years ago. I tried to remember how I felt at the time.

Was I nervous? Not that I remember. Excited? I don't think I've ever been more excited.

I can't believe that at 18 years old, I was perfectly capable of travelling all the way up the country and living in a big City such as Liverpool all on my own, not knowing a single person that would be there. Not only that, but I was capable of meeting new friends, going grocery shopping, budgeting and finding the balance between study and cider. I did it and I did it all by myself.

It made me realise that every time I have made a huge decision in life, I have come out of it better off. Going to University, leaving University for a girl I barely knew, moving out, getting this job, buying Ellie (my car).

So there's this scene in The Dark Knight Rises...

 *SPOILER ALERT * 

...when Batman is banished to a pit, and he has to try and climb out of it, of which nobody has managed except Bane. The kicker was that by doing it without the rope, he was scared. He HAD to make that jump, he had no other choice. And he fucking made it. 

*END OF SPOILERS*

When I've been forced to do something, or when I've absolutely just HAD to make it, I have. Just like Batman. I could be Batman. Maybe I am Batman. 

Batman.

I can't help but feel like there's a big step in my life coming up. I've been sitting pretty for a good few years now and I can feel something needs to change.

---

So since I've had the car, I find myself going on long drives. Just listening to Jack's or Lights, cruising. Sometimes I feel like I could just drive all night. Just drive and not stop, do you ever do that? One of my ultimate goals in life is to drive across the US, from East to West, and just stop off every four or five hours in a different town for a beer and a bite to eat. I can imagine that would be such an amazing experience. 

I finish with some snaps from before Grace's prom. Fun night out, that was. 

Hope you're all well! 

Until next time... 

x