Last year, we didn’t get a bonfire night.
We were so sad, and life seemed unbearable. I remember hearing the pops and fizzes, the booms and claps, whilst standing at the window to try to see them.
I craved jumping into someone else’s life. Someone, anyone, who was holding up their phone and trying to snap the perfect picture of the greens, blues and golds. The explosion would reflect in my eyes, and I would breathe the cold air in, and this wouldn’t be my life anymore.
Katie, Mum and I loved bonfire night. I love the anticipation that hangs in the air; only to be replaced by the smoke. I enjoyed the stamping of the feet to keep warm, and cold hands cupping hot chocolates.
When I was little, my teachers would send the school children home with reflective keyrings or bracelets with stern warnings of “be careful”, “don’t stand too close to the fireworks” which would ring heavily in our ears. Later, my family would all be standing in the kitchen door, as my dad ran back to the house after lighting rockets. We would hold the dog back whilst the fireworks began to spread like butterflies in the sky.
I have always loved them, but back then I wished they weren’t so loud.
In 2016, my Mum and I went to a bonfire night together. I remember thinking it was the perfect night. The fireworks weren’t particularly beautiful, nor the hot chocolate so tasty, but, it was the perfect night. The next year, I felt a bit disappointed that we instead went to the neighbours for a firework night, instead of a ‘real’ one. I just thought we would have so many bonfire nights together in the future.
For 2019, I had a different type of bonfire night. It was lovely, wholesome and warm. I was the girl with the fireworks in my eyes, with my camera ready. When I saw the finale, I put my camera down, and I felt an element of disbelief, that here I was.
A year ago today, if you had told us we were going to rent out our house, move six hours away, get a job in London and run a blog together, we would have probably cried because there was no energy within us to do that.
But we are fireworks that don’t die.
Life can, will and does get better.
Keep going, friends. It is worth it.
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