Every tragic romance you had as a teenager in Horsham

Horsham is a place of convenient romance, where the 81,402 restaurants and coffee shops of West Street provide an ideal hub for every blossoming young relationship. With the unbearable sexual tension of the town’s single-sex schools being within just a few metres of each other, it was almost challenging not getting caught up in some sort of whirlwind romance of MSN conversations and the odd trip into town. This article will take you on a trip down memory lane, going through all the stages you went through as a teenage princess growing up in Horsham.

The young teens at the Forest Youth Wing

Between 12 and 13 you hit your prime. You’re under-aged, single and ready to mingle, and what better way to meet the love of your life than within the grounds of Forest Youth Wing?  All the fit girls get glammed up, terrified at the prospect of male company after being deprived since their attendance to Millais School for Girls.

They put on their Dream Matte Mousse and their finest Primark pearl necklaces, hopefully accompanied by a brightly coloured Jack t-shirt if your mum got you one for Christmas. All the boys look about nine, sporting fresh polo shirts ironed by their mums and their older brother’s aftershave, equally ecstatic that they might get to exchange a few words with an actual girl.

After you arrive home at 9.15pm having spent your evening stood in a big group of people you hardly know (but it’s ok because there were boys there lol) you anxiously wait for the magic to happen. And it does. You told a pretty ugly boy called Max that your MSN address is [email protected], and he’s only gone and added you.

‘Hey’, he says.
‘Hi’, you reply.
‘How r u?’
‘Gd ty u?’
‘Gd thx. Wuu2?’
‘Nm u?’
‘Nm’

And that’s it. The consolidation of every budding 13-year old-relationship. You continue to talk for a bit, racing home from school everyday so you can come online and talk to ugly Max and he can ask wuu2. After 10 days you arrange to go to town and he asks you to be his gf, and you’re so thrilled cos now you can put xXx<3 Max <3xXx in your bio and make him your other half on Bebo.

You enjoy two weeks of chatting on MSN and meeting in town at 2:30 by the Shelly Fountain. Then, after a whole day of thinking, you decide you don’t want a bf anymore. You break up, delete his number from your pink Motorola Razr, and put a load of :’( faces in your MSN name.

Year 10 house parties

Aged 14 not much happens but most girls go through a stage of being fingered on Denne Hill by a boy from the year above. At 15, you go to random parks or fields at night with a bottle of vodka that your cool friend’s brother bought you and then never shut up about how “paralytic” you were. The particular height of being 15, however, is when house parties become a thing. Here, boys and girls roam freely in each other’s company while swigging a combination of the Caribbean Twist that your mum bought you and the vodka that you stole from her cupboard. You’re in year 10 now so you know literally hundreds of people, and you all meet together outside the garages after school. Through all of your many friends and house parties, you meet you next boyfriend.

He started messaging you on Facebook and eventually slipped the “Sorry I’ve run out of data, can I get your number? x” line. You go to the cinema sometimes and go round each other’s houses. For your 16th birthday he buys you a very average Pandora ring and you post a picture of it on Facebook or Twitter saying “Been soooo spoilt xx”.

You internally panic about what the hell you’re now going to have to buy him for his birthday, so you probably lose your virginity to him for the sake of it. All your single friends are meanwhile going through stages of ‘talking to boys’ who are talking to 12 other girls. Eventually, you and your boyf break up because “he feels weird”. You think you’ll never get over him, but sort your hair out and learn how to take a fit revenge selfie so you’re fine.

Getting off with everyone at Shelly’s

Being 17 was the age of “seeing someone”, either from the year above or from your part time job. You want to looked chilled to impress them so you lie about being okay with not being exclusive, when internally you’re absolutely livid. The Undercroft at Collyer’s, meanwhile, is brimming with the world’s ugliest couples who can’t leave each other alone and have dry sex in front of the teachers.

House parties have upgraded to parties in fields where people take tents and wear wellies and everyone shags everyone. People start to panic about the prospect of going to uni so a few of your friends start hooking up and it’s weird. But what’s the point in being in a relationship now that you’re 18 and able to go out and pull the absolute cretins that circulate Shelly’s on a weekly basis? Was it even a night out in Brighton if one of your friends didn’t get with 12 boys and proceeded to get tonsillitis?

You don’t slightly envy the few last-standing couples who have been together since they were 15 now that they have the whole ‘uni issue’. On the other end of the spectrum, all of the people committing to a life of working in Broadbridge Heath Tesco start getting together in a moment of panic that they’ll have no-one left. You’re definitely not jealous of them either.

And now you’re in your twenties, beyond the days of ‘seeing someone’, either single as ever or borderline engaged. It all really comes down to this quote from my friend – “If I’d been with everyone I got with I’d probably have had about 300 boyfriends!“