Dear Rugby

I feel like I need to watch Garden State and drink three bottles of gin before I write this. Just to get in the right mood you know. 

SO, I contemplated a ton of different structures for this post and I was gonna do a good ol’ fashioned listicle but decided I just needed a babble instead. As many of you will know (because I’ve whined about it for a year) I moved back to my hometown in August. London ate all of my time and resources so I ran away to drink gin in a field with my friends and travel around Italy.

After returning from my little adventure I reluctantly spent a few months in Rugby town, thinking that it would be the worst decision of my life. Much to my surprise, it turned out to be fantastic. I managed to reconnect with so many of the people I love, I laughed a lot at my own stupidity and I got a job in the friendliest pub I’ve ever entered. It was great.

As February rolled around I knew that it was time to leave so I scoured the internet for a new job in Brighton. Luck, fate or sheer coincidence was on my side as I managed to find a job that is perfect and I couldn’t be happier with it. However, this meant leaving my cosy home and everyone I love behind. I was under the impression that when it came to the time that I left Rugby I’d skip to the train station, shrieking with joy and flipping off everybody that I left behind. Oh, I could not have been more wrong.

I stumbled to the station, sweating out months of alcohol abuse and wondering how I was going to get through the day without my little gang. If truth be told, I’m still unsure. It’s the best and worst thing about living in a small town – everybody knows everybody.

Although this means gossip, pointless fighting and strange, almost incestual relationships – it also means that you constantly have somebody by your side. Whether it’s to go for a pint or to cry on when you’ve had enough. You become part of a beautiful, close-knit family that you’ll never find anywhere else. The people that know everything about you and still love you endlessly.

Do they irritate you so much that at times you can’t stand to see their face? Well, obviously. But it’s all irrelevant when it’s 5am and you’re screaming along to the songs that you used to love when you were 15.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve known each other for a decade and you have so many memories of being young and dumb together. Perhaps it’s just security and comfort. I haven’t really decided yet. Whatever the reason for it, I couldn’t be happier that it’s part of who I am.

So this is my confession that I would have refused to believe 6 months ago. I love my silly small town, I love my friends more than anything in the world and I LOVE MIDAS LOUNGE. (I mean, I’ve always loved you lot but Midas really did come as a surprise.)

I’m really going to attempt to get my blogging hat on again and be a bit more frequent but I always say this and am useless. Hope you didn’t hate the ramble, it’s a reflection of my brain at the mo. I’m really happy to be back in Brighton but there will always be a part of me that misses home.


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