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I don't want to talk about November. I've found angle after angle and drafted post after post, but I can't get my head around it, cannot begin to understand it. It was chaotic, and miserable, and my the end of it, I was quite the wreck.

Just stress, I guess, and memory, and how strange change always is. At the time, it felt like November changed everything.

Well, here's one thing December has changed: by blog, bitches. Sorry to keep playing hard-to-get like this (I've been at LJ for what, a year? not even that, I would bet) but it is time to move again. To Blogger, mostly since now it's not copying Sanna. Kidding.

You can chase me over to http://saaoirse.blogspot.com if you like. It's quite a nice place.

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 What I probably ought to write is a follow-up post, discussing and dissecting the downfall of my romance with DF. It was an odd break-up, of course- a long one and a tearful one and a slow one- but overwhelmingly, I am left feeling glad for it. It was, as Sanna has said, satisfying. In that I mean it was a finality, not a pause. A full stop, perhaps an exclamation mark, but not a comma, and not a question mark.

So instead of sad, I feel more in a state of ellipsis. I am trying to piece my life together without leaving space for DF. It is reliving to not feel guilty, and to have room to think. I need this. I need the dot, dot, dot- it's hardly an empty part of my life, it's not as if I am not busy. But I need a deep breath, I need a break. Everything is complicated right now, except for the cold, which is absolute in an utterly un-poignant kind of way. I like it. Everything else has subtext.

In any case, while I won't forget DF, I'm not terribly eager to dwell on it- not ever, and particularly, not today.

Today, we walked right on out of school to join the huge (fifty thousand is a sensible estimate) protest which turned so gloriously, so stunningly, to violence*. The news makes it sound like it was all violence, like we all ran to burn down Millbank Tower, but the march itself was great. We were much, much larger than predicted, and there was a notable lack of organisation: stewards and police and rails were all missing. But we screamed ourselves hoarse and boy, oh, boy, there's a certain kind of happiness you get from something like that, which is a rare and bright kind. A sort of bond that comes from trying to change the world with someone, and it makes you like them that little bit more.

In any case, it's all very exciting for the Little Ms. Socialist I am: suddenly I am arguing about the role of the police, talking to people about starting a student's union, tweeting furiously about politics and oh, my. My, oh, my. Something might just be beginning- and maybe it's not, and that's okay as well. The ellipsis state is not so bad, and I can stay here in limbo for ever. Dot, dot, dot.
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DF and I broke up. 

I don't even know why I am blogging this. Posterity? 

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