And I wish you weren't worth the wait....

The last time I felt this physically sick was the night we broke up. Tonight, nearly four months later, I feel it again and it's still because of you.
I walked into the bar last weekend and you were friendly and spoke to me, I thought about it for days, what it might mean. We've spoken on the phone a dozen times this weekend, gone to lunch, made plans to hang out later this week... all of it.
Last night your mother told me she had missed me.
Last night I asked a lifelong friend of yours about you, and about M and about SJ and all of that stuff.
Tonight, having had words with Emily earlier today, and all of my friends begging me to be careful, I asked Emily to tell me everything she had kept from me about you after our break up. Everything you had said and done, but she had kept from me to try and protect me.
She told me how you denied ever being with me, saying I asked you out and then I assumed things, and you were afraid to say anything.
She told me how you made a joke of me to everyone, saying that I was a psycho stalker, that you even did it when I was right there.
She told me how the night of the singing pubs you hit on everyone, including her and once again denied you'd ever been with me when she turned you down.

You say you want to talk this week, so that we can clear the air. You've tried calling me a bunch of times in the last 30 minutes. You just texted me. You sat beside me today at lunch, you bought my lunch, you bought me drinks all afternoon. You have rung me for a chat at least 10 times in the last three days. You just called to say you're on the way up to my house with a friend to hang out. On Friday night you spent the whole night on the phone with me until 6.30 in the morning, talking.

I don't understand you. You're a pig. You're scum. And I don't want you to not be in my life, because when you're good, you're really good.

Kiss me like you wanna be loved...

Every time I think I'm close to being okay or even think I really am okay you find a way to creep in.

Saw your cousin today and she smiled and said hi. Saw your best friend, though he didn't see me.
Went to your bar tonight with an old friend that wanted to see you for herself.
There was no one behind the bar but you, you had no choice but to serve me.
I was friendly and I think as a result you responded in kind. Polite, no hostilities, no ignoring me.

You caught me looking a couple of times but that meant you were looking too.

Truth is I miss having you in my life and you've no idea what it meant that you called me by my name and exchanged pleasantries with me tonight.

I'd be your friend again in a heartbeat.

You're full of shit, but talking to you was always the highlight of my day.
Honestly, if you were to ask me to marry you, I wouldn't think for a second about you hurting me again.
The only consequence I would be afraid of is how much everyone would hate me for giving in.
I still would though.

I close my eyes and then you pull me in, I'm not much for dancing but for you I did...

It's Christmas. I'm drunk.

I had to go into your bar tonight to collect my keys from Emily.
I saw you in passing behind the bar, but you didn't see me.

I keep thinking lately about Last Kiss by Taylor Swift
"Life of the party, you're showing off again
I roll my eyes and then you pull me in,
I'm not much for dancing but for you I did"

All I can think about is that night, in Club Shed, we'd said goodnight to Emily, put her to bed and went back outside to the music, you pulled me in and started slow dancing with me, complete with dips and twirls.

Emily, when I walked into the bar tonight, was singing Wasn't Expecting That, by Jamie Lawson. It's always been the song I associated with you, ever since we met.

I keep finding reasons to hate you but nothing seems to work. It doesn't matter how much time has passed, I still love you as if I were still with you.

I don't know how to not be in love with you.
I wish I could not be in love with you.
Why won't you realise that you loved me too, and that you miss me?
A pipe dream I know.
I'd still marry you, though.

It's not getting easier, it's not getting easier...

Tonight I feel a loneliness that I swear is bone deep.

I can't shake it, no matter what I do. It always happens when I've seen him and so maybe I need to stop torturing myself and avoid him at all costs, but I can't do that either. It's a small town and we're going to see each other around.

I have conversations with myself, imaginary situations where we come face to face and he speaks to me, or calls me, or something, ANYTHING that would take this gaping hole away.

Tonight, for the first time, I regretted the entire relationship. Not because of him or how it turned out, but because for so long I complained about being single, or said I felt lonely and the thing is, I didn't understand the word. I couldn't. And now I get it, finally, at long last, I can fully appreciate it. I thought I knew what it felt like, but I hadn't a clue - he got me used to something and then took it away. And now, it's so much harder than it ever was before.

I no longer have the late night phone call to look forward to. I have a guy I could text 24 hours a day and know he would reply, but I have no desire to. That guy in question said to me the other day that I deserved a guy who would treat me right, tell me I'm beautiful, and be everything I deserved in a boyfriend. The only problem was, he's not the one I want to hear it from.

My head knows that I'm only in love with the person I thought he was, not the real him. But the person I thought he was is still gone from my life, even if he never existed to begin with. He's still something to miss.


Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours.

Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room and we're not speaking...

Lover has been on my mind so much lately.

After weeks of convincing myself he was worthless and not worth being upset over, not worth missing, I pretty much had myself convinced.

Today I was sure that I was going to see him. I knew it in my blood. When Emily suggested tonight that we go out, I hoped to see him, as much as I had a feeling I would, and therein lies the problem.

He was out with his friends, I was out with mine. We sat at tables opposite each other all night and I managed to only glance once or twice. I spent the night talking to a lovely guy. About Lover, of all things.

In fact I spent the night talking about him to anyone who would listen. I told Emily once we got home that it was a good thing I had seen him out. I didn't die, I didn't panic, and I didn't make an ass out of myself, I carried on with my night on the surface and looked to be having a great time. All I could think about was him.

Learning what I've learned in recent weeks, about the lies, the behaviour, the crap, the suspected drug use and confirmed suspicions, all I can think is that I miss him still. He wasn't the world's best boyfriend, not even close, and he is so full of charm that he doesn't have a whole lot that's real about him. And yet...

I tell my friends that I miss being a girlfriend, not that I miss being his girlfriend. The latter is the one that's true though. I really miss being his. I miss talking to him, I miss texting him, I miss curling up in the bed with him and passing out. I miss our silly little routine of going home with a take away and watching Come Dine With Me. Truth is, he is on my mind as much now as he was when we were together. Months apart, and still he is all I can see.

All the logic in the world says I am better off without him, and in my head, I know that to be a fact. He lied, he (probably) cheated, he made promises he had no intention of keeping, and he made up crap about me after we finished. And yet if he called me right now, I know I would pick up the phone and talk to him all night.

I really thought I would marry him.

Knowing what I know about him, I should never want to speak to him again. Truth is I'd still marry him tomorrow. Do I really think that little of myself? And why do I think so much of him?

I don't wanna waste the weekend, if you don't love me pretend...

Turns out that for all my talk, I never learn.

I fell in love. I fell fast. Late August to early October was all it took, and just like that, a day after making plans for the future with me, he calls it all off, says we're too different and we're better as friends.

I've been a wreck this past week, and I wonder why I ever welcomed the idea of this feeling. I always said that heartbreak was a good thing, because it proved you were capable of love. Now I never want to feel it again. I just want the happiness back.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I could have married him. I looked at him and I saw his flaws and I saw his faults and I saw nothing that would have made me not want to be with him. He introduced me to his daughter, to his family, to his friends. He called me every night right before bed. He held doors open for me, he was proud of everything I did. He asked what I was doing with someone like him. And then nothing.

I've never had anything feel so right. And here I am once again, alone. Wondering why he doesn't want me.

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.