Heartbroken

It's happened, again. I allowed myself to like another person, to be with someone who makes my heart glow, puts a smile on my face, and makes me melt when they wrap their arms around me. BD and I ended things. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn't a fight, it wasn't an argument or frustration with each other, it was just us, hitting a brick wall.

I'm sitting here, telling myself I'll live. I probably will. I'll probably get a lot more work done. I'll be able to attend a lot more football games. I won't feel so bad wanting to go to parties, or wanting to take a girlfriend with me. I'll wake up tomorrow morning, get changed and go out to spend the day with a friend (although I'm actually wondering if that may fall through too). I'll go shopping anytime I want. One less birthday to think about. One less person to fuss over.

But I don't fuss over many people. He wasn't just anyone. He was someone who wanted to be let in, so I let him in. I'm not sleepy. I'm not tired. I know I won't sleep anytime soon. Why did he ask for a second chance? Why did he tell me that he wants to be friends? I don't hate him. But I know tomorrow, I'll feel hollow. I'll need to cry a little more. I'll need to hurt for a while. I knew this would happen, and I knew it was only a matter of time, but why did he ask for a second chance? Why couldn't he just have let me slip away before?

Why did I have to like this one? Why did I want to take care of him? Why did I want to craddle his head and tell him things would be ok? I didn't need to be strong on the phone, my voice never cracked as the tears ran down my cheeks.

And now... I have that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me wonder, should I have fought for him? Should I have been a little more adament and fought for him? To show him just how much I wanted him?

I don't think he understands just how heartbroken I really am about it all. He thinks he's the only one hurting, but he just doesn't realise how much I don't want to think about him right now. He sent me a message later on, telling me how he felt, and how he was proud to call me his girlfriend. I wish he didn't send it. I didn't want to know. We ended things best on the phone, I didn't want to know the last part.

I know of three people who will be happy about this, and they are three people I do not want to talk to at all these days... Well back to being my cynical, cold self - shouldn't be too hard. Right after I stop thinking about him and welling up all the time, feeling that lump rising.

Thinking of you...

Norah Jones "Thinking of You" plays on my iTunes... I've become one of them. One of those people who gets soppy. I'm happy. I sit at my desk and smile broadly when I remember little things they do, and can still smell their skin.

Yesterday I woke up after allowing myself 7 hours of sleep, I needed it. Clocks had changed and I had seen an hour of my life disappear right before my eyes. I'd worked until 3:30am (or what would have been 2:30am the night before). I jumped into the shower, had breakfast and turned on my computer. I did bit of reading before getting a phone call from a familiar number. I heard a slightly groggy, but other normal voice. "I want to see you." I could imagine him lying there, rubbing his eyes and stretching as I said that I wanted to see him too. I smiled widely into my king sized mug of tea. He had a lovely quiet, deep voice. I sat there thinking of what I could wear, I hadn't been out for two days and wanted to treat myself to dressing up a little.

** It wasn't what we did, it was what he said. **

He picked me up and we went through photos, a movie, adobe photoshop and hours of just cuddling. All I needed was a bit of tenderness. I sat there on the couch, his arms around me, inhaling his scent. I couldn't keep my eyes open as I just kept drifting off, his heart beat sending me into a lull. This is what I needed. Just someone to stroke my hair, hold me and make me forget about life for a while. Just wanted someone to make me feel what it was like to let go. Someone to remind me what being cared for and wanting to be cared for was about.

We sat on the couch, hugging his arm, his hand on my leg, our cups of tea getting cold in their places and a packet of digestives resting in my lap. "Are you only having one?" he'd ask incredulously. I'd nod and grin like a little girl because I knew it would make him smile. The kind of smile where you know he thinks you're cute when you do that.

** It wasn't what we did, it was what he said. **

Tunes played in the background we were in each other's arms. I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes as I stroked his face. For once I didn't look away when he looked back at me. I wanted to look into those eyes, those eyes that look right into me. Watch them open and close when my fingers traced the lines of his face. Close my eyes everytime he brushed my hair away from my face and let his fingers run through my hair. I felt safe. When he hugged me, I didn't want to let go. I felt safe in those big arms of his, his broad shoulders, my face in the nook of his neck.

** It wasn't what we did, it was what he said. **

It soon came time to go home and neither of us wanted me to leave. But I'm high maintanence and I wasn't ready for him to see how much effort it took for me to look passable. As we drove home, he asked me, "Last week, you asked me if I was happy, and I never asked you. Are you happy?" This was my chance. My opportunity to give him my answer and tell him what he had to hear. So I said,

I am happy. Sure we have some limits to our relationship, but you know what, I don't care, I'm happy. I'm happy with what I have and you know what I'm enjoying this. For the first time in a long time I get excited to see someone. I look forward to seeing you. I know we say that there is a shelf life to this, but you know what, I don't care. For once, I'm allowing myself to be selfish and you know what? I like it. I am happy.

He smiled, he was happy and then he said something that made it all better. "Let's not say that there's a shelf-life. Let's just enjoy it together." Some people may think we'd then be in denial about this relationship, but I don't care. For the first time since we started seeing each other I didn't feel that pang of sadness, I didn't feel that horrible twinge of guilt that it would all end so soon, I could finally feel happy and optimistic.

It had nothing to do with what we did that day, it was because of what he said.

Food...

One of my favourite blogs is Kyoto Daily Photo, I love looking at the various pictures Macky has up on different parts of Kyoto, there is always something new and there is always something beautiful. Today as I scrolling through I found this KyotoDailyPhoto: Mixed food and it just made me crave food from back home. Now it's not because I'm hungry, because I had a gorgeous breakfast of a bagel with brie oozing out of it, and a rather large cup of tea, but because I miss what home cooking is all about. I get home cooked meals living with my grandmother which I truly appreciate. But nothing quite compares to the love and comfort that comes from a home cooked meal from your mother. Which is why I'm putting a picture of one of my favourite dishes my mother makes:

Steamed meet dumplings. They're gorgeous and they're a typical Bukhari dish (my mother is Italian) and I love them. What we usually do is steam them, and when you serve them you pour vinegar over them. Yes, it pickles them a bit, but you do the same to pie and mash anyway! They are delicious and when they're served straight from the stove they're just amazing. I know when I'm home when my mother cooks these because only she knows how to make them just the way I like them.

(Someone tucking into it - I'm sure it was me because my father was getting annoyed that I was taking pictures and not 'respecting the food' and just eating it. If I said "because I miss it when I'm in London" he'd have turned and said to me, "Learn how to make it to do it while you're there or just come back and settle here")

Going through some home movies, really cracking up on some of them because my sister is just hilarious and feeling just a little homesick. But must put that aside to finish this one last chapter (don't say it like that or you'll have to really push yourself and there's still so much to write about!!).

Why did I...?

For a while now, I've taken to using a self-defense mechanism to save myself the danger of getting sorely disappointed, heart-broken and adding yet another problem to my list: Just don't date people who I (really) like. The last boyfriend I had was someone who a nice enough guy, but I kind of knew I wouldn't get attached to. It's sad to say that, but it was true.

I realised recently I haven't dated anyone who I really liked (with one exception - I was gutted when he wouldn't allow me to be selfish and see how far I could go with it *sigh* shame). I'd been dating people to 'fill in the gaps' or because they asked me. They were people who I knew I wasn't going to get attached to. Sounds like there was quite a list, but now that I count them, I've been on 4 first dates, one of them turning out to be a boyfriend. And now, the man I've been fancying from a distance for two years has found a way into my heart. After just one clumsy date, he's managed to get in. Maybe I didn't keep my defences up with this one. All I know is, I liked this one from the first moment I heard his voice, with the whole "well then...". I just know I look forward to my weekends again. I know that when I look up, he's looking down. He has a smile waiting for me. He reaches out to hold my hand. He wants me close all the time.

And the worst part is, this time, I don't just cling to the fingers, I actually hold his hand. I love holding his hand. It feels natural. I don't worry about who's going to see us. I don't care that it looks soppy. I like holding his hand. I like curling up to him. I like to watch him eat. I like it when he smacks his lips when he enjoys something. I like how he gives me sideway glances and flashes a cheesy grin when he catches my eye. I like how he does little boyish things. I like tickling his stomach. I like how he closes his eyes when we're relaxed. I like our silences. I don't recoil when he kisses my hand. But most importantly, I don't pull away when he holds my hand.

I'm going to get so hurt. How can you tie someone to you until you know when you'll be completely free? How could you tie something so beautiful to you with the promise that you don't know will come true? I know I'm going to get hurt. I know it'll truly be crushing. I'm waiting for that guilitine to fall, and it kills me because I can't truly enjoy this. But maybe that's a good thing, that way I'll be able to reign my feelings and it'll save me from having my heart truly broken.

I sit here now and I've just been told by someone that he loves me, "truly, madly, deeply" and that he worships me. It's the most beautiful thing I've heard, but I can't accept it because 1)he has a girlfriend, 2)I'm with BD. Truth is, I think my heart is just a little tired. From wanting one person who doesn't give me an answer of any kind, to wanting a person I have but not wholly, to holding back all that I really want to do and settling for that 'inch' that I was given.

I told BD, as the sun set on our fun day out, that I didn't want to fall in love. I don't think I could take that risk. I'm not a risk taker. I don't think I could take the pain of when it goes wrong. I just don't think I'd want to willingly put myself through that. He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said, "Why would you want to go through life being dead?"

I'm just so scared - to feel that despair, that heartbreak, that darkness, the feeling that you're falling and no one is there to catch you. Wondering afterwards just why did you do this to yourself?

...why would you let anyone in?

It's bugging him more than he thinks...

Today I spent the day with BD (which is what I shall call him from now on). He picked me up and we drove to Kent. The weather was gorgeous and the drive was amazing (I just wished I took my camera with me to take some photos of the scenery - I will not listen to him next time!). I was armed with my saved paycheck, a mental list of what I wanted, and a tall strong man to carry whatever I managed to get my hands on or stretch my budget to get (I'm good at that!). As long as I managed to get him something to eat (good practice with my dad, as long as I know where you can get something to eat then he's happy), he has happy just to tag along and put up with me. However, there were times when he dragged me into shops to look for stuff for him, which I loved because it felt like we were shopping for him too. We stayed until the shopping mall closed.

Since it was still early, we decided to go for dinner in the other huge shopping mall in the area. So we drove and got stuck in the traffic, which I didn't mind as I was just spending time with him. That is until his thoughts wandered... I know our situation isn't the most ideal, nor is it the most comfortable for him. In the time it took to drive between the two malls (it was only half an hour - if that, but it certainly felt a lot more once he started talking about how he felt about the situation) I realised my mood was darker than the clouds gathering above our heads. However, he had his chance to get out, and yet he dragged us both back in. He had his chance to walk away, to allow the both of us to think that nothing would happen and I would have been ok. Now we're slowly getting attached and have given each other labels, it makes it a little harder to just walk away. We had agreed after the first date to end things, and yet he asked me the next day for another chance.

Now, I see that it's causing more problems than he's willing to admit. The way he talked about the situation and how he saw it, just made me realise that even though I could be ok with this, he couldn't be. Somehow I feel that he feels that this is my fault and that he's having to suffer. Maybe suffer is too severe a word, but I just feel like he's feeling a little resentment.

The problem is, I like this one. I'm finally seeing someone that I like, and not just because he's the one who's around at the time. This is someone who I can see myself getting really attached to. It's dangerous and I could end up being incredibly hurt. Sitting in the car park, waiting to go inside to the restaurant, I turned to look at him, and asked him, "Are you happy?" He wasn't sure what I meant, so I said, "Are you happy with us? Our 'dating thing'? Because I don't know what to call it." even though we call each other girl/boyfriend, so we are in a relationship. I knew what his answer would be, and I realised we had two choices, end it now once and for all, or just continue the way we are and I would have to endure his tormented soul and mind.

This is why I don't date people I like - I drag them along for a terrible and bumpy ride which is my life.

Oh my good grief, will I never be rid of this? If he doesn't torment in person, then it's in my mind. I dreamt of him the other night. Nothing sexy, nothing to get the heart rate going. It was just a dream. He was sitting in a pub, with someone we know, and two blondes. They were laughing, drinking and basically getting merry. I woke up the next morning and realised that there is just no getting away from him. I think I need closure, or some kind of ending. Oh I don't know.

Why is this happening? I'm happy. I'm seeing someone. A lovely someone. He's quiet, normal and best of all, doesn't keep me guessing. So why does he pop into my head? *groan*

Oh well... here's something I played about with earlier...

Meant to be...?

When you know something isn’t meant to be, why do people go for it? You’ve seen that person so many times, you’ve smiled and been just that close to wanting to say something to them, and you bottle it. There are times when you’ve just missed them, and your heart feels a slight pang knowing that you’re not going to see them for those few minutes. Or they’re going the other way, and you see them go past you. You feel that spark of excitement for seeing them those few minutes and your smile holds on for just a little while longer.

What would you do if you finally met, finally got to know each other and you find that person to be so much better than you expected. That their smile makes you blush and want to reach out and stroke their face. When they look concerned you want to know what’s going through their mind and make them feel better. When they laugh, you act silly or tell a silly joke just to listen to them chuckle because it makes your heart melt. Your lip quivers when you watch them close their eyes as you stroke their face. When your arm is free you reach out to them, just to touch them, wrap your arm around them, or just stroke their body reassuringly, but it’s only reassuringly for you, because you know that they like you. You’re able to understand their crispy dry humour, and start loving the way they tell a small, quiet joke or one liner. You enjoy watching them walk around a kitchen and look at you wondering what you’re thinking. You get into the habit of wrapping your arms around them from behind whenever they’re sitting down. You just want to touch them because they feel nicer under your finger tips.

Your heart melts when you watch them close their eyes under your touch.
Your heart skips a beat when they bring your fingertips to their lips and lightly kiss them.
When by the fourth/fifth date (because we’re still not sure if we’re going to call our first proper conversation a first date) you are just content to sit together and listen to mellow music and allow time to pass – even though it passes way too quickly and you wish it would just stop because you just don’t want that bliss to end. You close your eyes and for those 8 hours the world disappears.

What would you do? Would you hold onto that bliss for as long as you could? How long would you hold onto it? You know it isn’t going to hang around forever. If you knew that your heart would be broken in the end and that you’d be hurt, would you still put yourself through it? Would you still want to see what would happen when you both know that it can’t really be a happy ending for either of you?

Everything becomes just that much more painfully beautiful because each moment you spend together could be your last. As melodramatic as that sounds, it’s so true. You know it’s a slow death and you’d rather a swift execution. One of you is going to be the stronger one and end it, do the sensible thing and save the other from a greater pain. I’ve been told to control my feelings, to not allow myself to get too involved, but how can you do that? You can only do that with people who you don’t really like that much… but....... I finally meet a person who doesn't play with my mind. I don't have to 'try and read', I know what I see, it's there. I don't have to guess at what he's thinking or what he thinks of me because it's there.

He never cared for anything until I came along. Two years we had been watching each other and wanting one another. I turned it around for him. He says I’ll be sorry for that, he may be joking, but we both know how true those words will be in future.

Question is, do I break both our hearts now and save us from a greater heartache?

What if I packed it all in?

"What's the alternative?" he asked me.
"That I pack up and go home." I said.
"That's right. You just do what you've got to do." he said.

I've been rolling it around in my head, am I doing this for all the right reasons? Am I really happy? There's just no clear cut definition to it. I'm counting more low days than high ones. If I do pack up and go home, what would happen?

1) I'd be saying goodbye to the life I now know. No male friends, no boyfriends, no dates, no parties where you'd be dancing and feeling gorgeous. No going out when I feel like it, or just to get a cup of coffee because I just need to stretch my legs. No going out unless I've let my father know I'm going out and asked him. Can't see my friends unless my father knows about it. CON

2) I'd be in a job for life at a university working as a lecturer. I wouldn't pay tax on my pay. I'd be able to save because I'm living with my parents (which isn't a bad thing as I love that house). I'd be working minimal hours and not be hounded to do research all the time. Come and go as I please at my job. PRO

3) Friends - I'd be with all my old girlfriends and not worry about who knows me or who I'm socialising with if I went back because they're most people who I trust implicitly anyway and they're the people who were there for me at my lowest times, they sat around me as my heart broke and I cried. They were there when I laughed and smiled. They're the people who know how my life is and what could happen to me. PRO. I'd lose a lot of friends in London. I wouldn't be able to see half or over half of them again. I'd be forced to cut out a lot of people, which is something I've never done (only willingly or necessity). I'd lose a of people who've seen me in my good times and those who have made me laugh, shown me what life is like when you're an adult. The cheeky people who I'll cradle and hold close to my heart. CON.

4) I'd be a lot more relaxed and mellow. I'd be incredibly laid back and slowly become lazy again. My mind will wander more and I'll be less inclined to read again. My head will be empty of all stresses and good times will flow through it. My work will only occupy my mind during the working hours and never on the weekend. CON.

5) My parents will arrange my marriage. CON - but I trust them and know that they would only want the best for me.

6) It will be until the summer until I come back to London, and even then my dad will only let me go out if he's with me and I'd have to be back at a certain time. I would never be able to roam the street of London, or Soho on my own. CON.

7) Every time I listen to certain bits of music, my heart will break for what I've given up. CON.

8) I would never forgive myself for being so weak... CON.

I need a hug.