Finding the happiness within myself

I'm running away. Not actually running away like they say in movies. I'm getting on a train and I'm not coming back for a couple days. Like I used to in my first year of university.

You can probably already tell that this blog post is not like my usual blog post. For once I'm not concerned with marketing or telling you all about the big things going on in my life. This one is about the small days. Like today. Today I woke up (hungover) with a smile on my face. Was it because I'd spent my night drinking and dancing to High School Musical? Was it because I knew I could get out of bed and have a warm Lush bath and my best friend would lie there asleep none the wiser? Was it because I knew I was about to run away? I guess I'll never quite know. But it was a smile. Genuine smiles have been few and far between in my past few months. I guess that's why I remember this one so well.

This post is going to be so bizarrely different to my previous post that I feel like I need to fill you in on all the details in between. But I'm not going to.
But what I will say is that I am a person who places my happiness in people. I can't sit in my flat at university by myself without having some sort of mental breakdown. I can't walk to class without having my phone in my face constantly texting my friends. I struggle to be alone. For example, only the other day was I by myself in my flat for all of one hour before I called a taxi and went straight to my friend's house. But the one time I can be alone and content in my own company is when I'm travelling. In fact when I'm travelling is probably when I'm happiest.

I'm sitting on this train facing backwards (I hate facing forwards) sipping tea from my takeout cup, trying to place where this blog post is going. But I honestly have no idea. Something I do know though is that tea tastes like dirty water. So why I have such a love for it I shall never know.

When at the train station, waiting for my train, I took out my headphones and listened. I haven't done that in a while. But I pushed all thought out of my head and just listened to all of the different sounds. Just listened. The gulls. The footsteps. The trains.
And never had I felt so at home. That's something I find quite odd... how one can feel so at home when they're really running away from it. But I guess that's what I get for being a walking cliche.

I think what I'm trying to say is that I need to do this more. There's obviously a reason I did this so much when I was depressed. Because this is what makes me happy. So why did I stop? When did I get so boring? Which was the point that my own happiness became so unimportant to me?

I don't have a plan. Up until around three months ago, I knew my life and where I was going. But now I'm lost. I have no future. Or at least no future that I can place. Where I go next is entirely up to the second in which I decide. But that's okay. Because even though I lost my direction, I found myself again. Buried underneath the playlists combining The 1975, Ed Sheeran and a little bit of Dodie intertwined. Buried underneath the large caramel hot chocolates... could I sound anymore cliche? I guess not. But cliches become cliches because people like them so much. So I guess that's okay.

So here I am. Promising myself to get lost. Again and again and again. So I can get more days like these.