The simple truth.

The plain facts stand at this. You're the only person I'd answer my phone to at four in the morning and talk about anything and everything even though you're probably drunk. You make me laugh and think the world of me and things are just so much better when you're around. You have a unique ability to make me grin even at the smallest of things and I can't even explain why. Part of me is shy around you, and yet, you probably know me better than most people, and I love that. It means a hell of a lot that you know me, and don't want to run a mile. Christ, I want to run a mile from myself sometimes. You're someone I don't want to see walk out of my life. If I'm being totally and completely honest, you're one of very few people that I'd hold on tight to. I trust you, I love the way you make me smile, and the prospect of being without you is just grim. I find myself going red every time your name is mentioned, my stomach flutters and my tongue gets tied. I feel about fifteen again sometimes, it's funny. I'm stupidly insecure at times, and it's hard for me not to be, but I'm trying very hard. Secretly, or perhaps not so secretly now, I'm terrified. Terrified of messing up. Being the usual screw-up I always am. Especially when I know you think so much of me, I'm not sure I can live up to it. I mean, I hope I can. I want to. Who knew I'd be back here, and yet further forward than I've ever been. Silly little me is ready to take a risk, because if it pays off, it will be pretty incredible. 

For Gracie.

To the one person who told me to document my holiday antics until I returned to still-quite-sunny Newcastle, to update her, so here you go Gracie. I told you I'd do it. Some may be slightly beating around the bush, for dignity's purpose.

Tuesday 9th July 2013: San Antonio Bay, Ibiza.

As I sit surrounded by young people and one or two families, not satisfied with the way I look in the bikini I'm wearing, the sun blaring down on the stony ground by the pool, I realise how perfect this is. There's the usual lot. The girls who are ready to have the time of their lives, tanning straight away and spend their days giggling away and admiring the lads, and the lads who perhaps fancy themselves a bit too much, tattoos in show and have a bottle of whiskey with breakfast. I have Taylor Swift playing on my iPod and it's so hot, my hair has done that *woo hoo* thing that Phoebe says. A picturesque backdrop of woodland and sand, our hotel is situated literally a minute's walk away from the sandy coastline of San Antonio Bay. Bikinis, sunglasses and pints are out in full-force. All Inclusive alcohol has just kicked off at half ten and we're already drinking what is fondly known in Geordieland as Trebles. A mad week ahead I think. I miss by blog but my notebook and phone will suffice. Cue the cameras and fasten your seatbelts, you're about to have the best week of your lives.

Dedication #3: The Gang.

My family. The people who, in some cases, share my surname, or in other cases, possess a different name completely, yet are just as close to me. The group my grandma affectionately calls "the gang." I love you all, from my parents, to my sister, to my grandparents, auntie and uncle, the abundance of cousins; you're all great. You're there to help me when I need it (or sometimes, when I really don't.) You're my friends for life, no matter what the outcome. I'd walk through hell for you all, and I know you'd do the same for me. The people I worry about, care about, and love unconditionally, even though we fight ruthlessly at times. I wouldn't and couldn't change you all. The family get-togethers, the random days out, the things you really can't laugh about with anyone else. The priceless moments. You can't make the stuff up, we've had so many good times, so many unforgettable memories. It's the age-old saying, that you can't pick your family, but even if you could, you lot would be my first and only choice. I may be moody and harsh and difficult at times, but it's only because I love you, and I know we're thick as thieves. You take my bad moods and my spat-out words, and I take the sometimes-unwelcome criticism, as we have a mutual understanding, that we're okay like that. The support I couldn't do without, the Sunday catch-ups I never want to miss, the feeling that I can walk through the front door, and there's someone there waiting to ask me how my day's been, and put the kettle on, if and when it's really needed. So, gang. This is to say, I love you all. I need you all, and I never ever want to lose you.