Well you wanted something beautiful, you wished for something true...

Tomorrow I start packing.

I have such mixed feelings about moving out. I'm excited for a change, to get to know new housemates, to live in a house where things work, where it's not freezing all the time, and where I'm not struggling with the bills as much.

And yet, as bad as some of the times in this house have been, as bad as some of the dramas have been, I have some incredible memories of living here. Just about all of my best moments with Lost Boy have happened here. The night of the first snow, back in November when he came over after work, we cooked and watched movies with our friends while he flirted and held my hand under the blanket. The night he came over and fell asleep holding my hand on the couch. Waking up in my bed to kisses from him.

Ridiculous nights with Drummer have all happened here too. Lying in bed together and talking to the ghost in the room in what was possibly some of the funniest, cutest pillow talk in existence. Crazy nights where we were too busy with each other to even contemplate sleep.

Fun times cooking dinner with my housemates and watching a movie, laughing, joking and just being friends. Something that sometimes felt so rare here.

In so many ways I hope the new house is a happier place. And in so many ways, I can't see how it will compare to the times I've had here.

A few days ago I realised that the reason I can't move past Lost Boy is because I love him. It's been obvious maybe, for a long time but it was the first time I said the words out loud. In a way, I don't think I want to get over him. Because if I get over him, I have to pick myself up and start from scratch again. Not sure if I have the motivation at the moment to do that. I've been single for so long now, and looking, always looking, that now that I found someone who captivates me the way he does, it's not something I'm willing to let go of, even though a big part of me knows that someone else will come along.

I saw him tonight, just in passing in the street, through a window. We smiled and waved and it was easily the highlight of my day. On Friday night he walked past my work and I caught him checking to see if I was there before he gave me a thumbs up and continued walking. It completely changed my mood instantly.

I don't know how long it's going to take for me to either move on, or prove to him that some girls stick around. And maybe something will happen in the mean time to change it all. But this past week, since my drunken confession to him, I've felt more positive about everything. And maybe that's just the start I need.

Scream in, scream out, time for healing....you feel the moment's gone too soon

I left my own house party tonight to walk Lost Boy home. That’s the new name I gave him after our talk tonight. Reader just doesn’t cover the range of things that he is. But more than anything, I think he’s lost.

I would love to understand what it is about THE ex. The one that has him so messed up. It’s been a year and a half, and I don’t think he’ll ever trust another girl again. The one person he gave his heart to and he got it broken in such a way that I’m not sure he’ll ever let it heal. The irony is that he’s probably the only guy I got close to doing that with, and here we are, four months after the fact and I’m still obsessing.

He admitted to me tonight that he’s not happy. That he never is. I told him the same. We spent the night flirting and chasing each other around the house, play fighting, messing, finding excuses to touch.  I walked him home as an excuse to be alone with him for a while, and I told him that Drummer had been a distraction from the fact that I couldn’t have my first choice. I stopped short of telling him that even after all these months, he’s still my first choice.

I got the courage to say it in a text when I got home.

He’s probably not going to reply, and it will be okay if he doesn’t.  As I said to him in the text message, he doesn’t feel the same, and that’s okay. I don’t expect him to. But at least I’ve said it. No regrets. I’ve been honest, and I’ve given it my best shot, and the rest of it is out of my hands.  There is something quite freeing about knowing that.

No matter what happens – if he responds, or if he ignores it, if he starts coming around a bit more, if he tries to fix our friendship or if he avoids me like the plague. It doesn’t matter. It’s out of my hands. I’ve said what I needed to say, and he knows how I feel and that’s all I can do.

I don’t think I’ll get the outcome that I want. As naive as I am, I am not stupid. But at least when I look back on this whole thing, and I know I will, I can say that I was honest, and that I put myself out there, and that if it didn’t work, it wasn’t because of something I did. And I’m starting to realise that is all I can hope for.

I'm waiting for your healing hand, one touch can bring me round....

There's nothing wrong with loving who you are...

Haven't had a whole lot to say lately.

I've been sticking to this whole "no boys" rule that I came up with a few weeks ago. It's better for my health, but not really my social life.

I went back to Weight Watchers today, after a few weeks of not eating properly, not eating at all, or binge eating. It seems I can never strike a good balance for long. The good news is that I am down 11 lbs since I started, which is amazing. My fabulous American Eagle jeans that I bought last summer are in need of a belt and the legs are baggy. Things are going back in the right direction, at least. I dreamt of my hotpants last night. All I've been thinking of to motivate myself in my weight loss is wearing these shorts and looking damn good in them at Oxegen this year.

If I have another motivation, I'm sure no one would blame me. More than anything, this summer, I want to look amazing. I want to look thin, I want to feel confident, and I want to bump into every single one of those boys who didn't think I was enough, and I want to show them what they could have had.

Some of the girls and I have set a shopping date for a few months time. New wardrobe for our new bodies.

I know that being thin is not going to solve all of my problems. I know that what is on the outside doesn't matter nearly as much as who I am. But for all my life, I have been unhappy with how I look. This is me changing it. I know I am going this for the right reasons. This isn't because I think boys won't want me as I am (I have had more than my fair share of guys who have no shortage of hot girls wanting them). This is for me. I really believe that now.

Maybe it's shallow. But if I can look in the mirror and like what I see, then maybe some other things will fall into place.

Don't give up on me, I'm about to come alive...

I have a self destruct button a mile wide.

The minute I start to do well at something, be it learning an instrument, losing weight, writing, a boy....a switch goes in my brain and I up and quit outright, or I sabotage myself at every turn. I see this in myself time and again, I know it's there and even as I am self destructing, there is a voice in my head that tells me I am. Ninety nine times out of a hundred, I do it anyway.

For all my flaws, my worries, my fears, and all of the (many) things I want to improve about myself, I never seem to want to change it as badly as I want to give into something bad for me in that moment.

I remember a time when I had incredible will power. I remember a time when surely, I was more interesting than I find myself to be now.

I miss that girl a lot.

I want to be the girl that is different, interesting and quirky. I don't want to blend in with the crowd. I want to stand out. I want to be noticed. I want to be special.

Everything is going to be alright...

They say the first step to any recovery is to admit the problem, so here goes:

I am miserable.

I ran away to Dublin today, took refuge in my friends spare bedroom, and hoped to escape my problems.
The only flaw with that plan was that problems follow you no matter where you go.
They don't go away just because the geography changes.

A change of scenery sometimes helps though. I was only here a few hours when I saw my unhappiness for what it was. That was something I couldn't see at home. The truth is that I've been so miserable for so long, that I've almost forgotten the last time I was really, truly happy.

I can point at Reader, and say that holding his hand on that snowy night, under the blanket as we joked and flirted and had fun with friends, as the last really strong memory of happiness. That was last November.

I don't want my happiness to depend on a boy. I don't want to be that girl. And the truth is, I think I've been obsessing over boys so much lately because it ALL sucks. There is nothing I can point to in my life right now and say that I am completely happy with it. And rather than fix any of that, I fixated instead on the idea that if I at least could point to a boy and say he was mine, that I would be happy, and could deal with the other bad parts, because I had this one good thing.

That's not how it works though. My mind is clearer than it has been in months. I was (am) crazy about Reader. I was replacing him with Drummer. And now I have neither of them. And that sucks. But it's going to be okay. It might not feel okay for a while, but it will pass, and I will move on.

I will be happy alone. I have to be.

Nearly all my relationships are pretty terrible at the moment. But the one that is at its worst, is the one with myself.

And that one takes priority.

I'll learn to be okay on my own.

Hating all the boys that got to you...

And all the things they took from you 
That you'd kept for yourself. 

For lack of a better word, I got dumped tonight.
I'm not sure what's worse, the feeling of being dumped when you're not even together, or being dumped because he has found someone he actually wants to be together with.
Or it could be that for the first time in nearly a year, I haven't had a boy to occupy my mind or time.
Drummer says he needs to straighten himself out and not be a womanizer any more. I said that I hoped she was worth it and he agreed. This is the second time in six months that he's found someone more worth it than I apparently am.
I'm torn between being bitter (because I want to be the girl who is worth it) and resigned because he was always my second choice anyway.
The great thing is that we both know it. We always do.
He knows Reader, is friends with him even, and he knows, I think, that if it came down to it, who I would choose.
It's okay though, because I know that he'd choose a different girl every time over me.

Truth is, I'm not that cut up about it either way.
I've seen it coming for a couple of weeks. I'm getting quite good at context clues, and it's not like we were ever epic anyway.
The truth is, that what's upsetting me is that despite my promise that this year was not going to be about boys, it's been about nothing else so far.
And now I've no excuses. I have no safety nets.
Now, all I have is me.
Already I am panicking about the free fall.

I know in theory that its better to be lonely alone, than to be lonely with someone.
I know that I deserve so much better than what all of these boys have been giving me.
I know that until I am happy with just me, I'll never find a boy that will be happy with just me.
Doesn't mean being alone sucks any less.
I'd kind of gotten used to a warm body beside me in the bed at night.
Cuddling up with my laptop doesn't feel nearly as good.

oh how I wish I meant a little more than...

a symphony of heavy breathing 
and the friction of hips 


Turns out that feeling nothing is relative. Seeing you with someone else proved that.