Moving On.

Tonight is my final night living with my amazing housemates in our first proper home and it’s definitely going to be like the final scene in Friends tomorrow, leaving our keys on the kitchen counter before we all head off to our own apartments and flats and houses and God knows where I’ll be living – Buckingham Palace, hopefully..

But on a serious note, it is so strange knowing we won’t all be living together ever again since we’ve all been together since the first day of university almost two years ago. It’s gonna be weird having to tell my housemate to turn his music down when he’s raving to Robyn in his room or having a movie day with all my housemates as we try to watch every Harry Potter movie in one sitting but giving up after Prisoner of Azkaban (amateurs!) or our endless amounts of failed parties since all our friends use the ‘tube stops at 1am’ excuse (not a valid excuse from September 12th FYI). This means I’ll have to make my own breakfast the night after a heavy night whilst I nurse a banging hangover, and I’ll have to bully myself over my own mistakes like setting fire to the chicken or burning cookies and making the house stink with toxic smoke (there seems to be a cooking theme going on here and I’ve concluded that I am not a great chef). And now I won’t have anybody to constantly annoy or have anybody to tell me I don’t need to go to Oxford Street for the second time in a day or have anybody to judge me on my Disney obsession or force me to down a shot of tequila on my birthday and make me intoxicated before we’ve even left for the club. And no more birthdays where I wake up to cards and presents in the lounge with balloons and banners everywhere and a Disney princess cake and.. Can you see why I love my housemates so much?

In the past ten months, even though we lived together in Halls last year, we’ve grown closer and closer – maybe too close in some aspects. They’re my London family. They put up with me when I’m having one of my ‘off’ days, they put up with my bitching, they put up with my fangirling, they prevent me from drunk texting my mother a message saying that Harry Styles could go through me like the Northern Line (an Underground train line that goes straight through London..). No matter how bad my day has sucked, I know that as soon as I get home, they’ll be there to watch the soaps with me and make me laugh.

So from my first apartment keys on the day I moved to London September 2013..

To my first house keys on the night I moved out in July 2015..

I’ve changed a hell of a lot, and moved on from the old me to be a more confident, more weird (but more accepting of that weird) and more grown up (sorta..) girl all down to my amazing housemates. They annoy me at times, but I know I annoy them more so I’ll let them off for putting up with me for so long.

Nobody knows what the future is gonna hold for us but I just hope I stay friends with these lot. They’ve made me into the person I am today, which they’ll probably groan about because of how annoying I am, but I couldn’t imagine my life without meeting them – and frankly, I wouldn’t want to. They’re my second, dysfunctional and unconventional family and everyone needs friends like that.

So it’s time for our next adventures to begin in the world that the adults call ‘the real world’, but it’s been an amazing 22 months living with these guys and I’m really going to miss them. Lots. And lots. And lots.

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