What if...?

Carrie Bradshaw sits at the table, with her three best friends, and tearfully asks, "I woke up this morning and thought, 'What if I hadn't had met you?'". The scene chokes me up everytime. Then it got me to thinking, there are probably 3 major points in my life where I think, if fate had not thrown these in my path, as fate had allowed Carrie to meet her 3 soulmates, what would have happened to my life? Here goes:

1. What if I had never done a masters? For me, that was a huge turning point in my life. I was 24 and had finished a contract with an up and coming women's college back home. My father had given me the opportunity to come to England to further my education. At that point in my life I had reached a stage where I was incredibly content with the way my life was. I had a great job, that was trying to entice me renew my contract, I had (and still do) wonderful friends and a great social life, and I had a good relationship with my father as he allowed me to have freedom. I was actually in a great place in life that I was incredibly lucky to be in. So why did I jump at the opportunity to go to England to continue my studies? Simple, I would have been kicking myself for the rest of my life if I didn't. I would have thrown away a chance that most girls back home dream of and would have been branded foolish for the rest of my life.

2. What if I had stayed engaged? I don't know a single (Arab/semi Arab) girl who has not been engaged or been set up in an arranged marriage at some point or another. No matter how independent they are or how 'open minded' and Westernised they consider themselves to be, at one point or another they WILL contemplate an arranged marriage, and at some point they will give in. In my case it was the fact that I trusted my mother and because I'd heard so many 'good' things said about this particular guy. He wasn't my type at all, but I wanted to give him a chance because he was apparently your typical 'good' guy who was just looking to settle down. I know I say this to everyone, but it doesn't make it any less true when I say that there was nothing wrong with him. He never treated me badly or unkind. He was generous, sweet and very well mannered. What was worse was that his mother was (and still is) a wonderful person, who I got on with incredibly well (still do). The problem was with me. My heart wasn't completely in it and I wasn't ready to settle down. I liked him, he was a good person, he would have done everything to make me happy, I know, but I just didn't feel enough for him to think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. My family and friends told me that the love would 'come afterwards'. I'd be told the different stories of how someone's friend had gotten married to a guy she couldn't stand to look at on her wedding day, but they now have 3 kids and she's incredibly happy she stuck with him. Stuck with him? Are you kidding?

I actually do have a cousin who kind of went through that. When I went to see her we spoke about how I felt about things. She said to me that she gave her husband a chance because she'd been told he was a good guy. But she said that she didn't feel that kind of spark or excitment during their engagement. She said that things blossomed after they got married and she told me just how wonderful he was. She said that if you're willing to take the risk, then you could be happy. Although I appreciated her honesty, I also had to appreciate just how lucky she was as well. It was a GAMBLE she had taken. What if the love never came? What if one day she woke up and decided she'd had enough and just wanted to smother him? How could she sleep with a guy who she wasn't completely heartfelt about? What about those annoying habits he must have had? How much jarring on her nerves could she take before she'd want to take a cleaver to his head? I wasn't ready to gamble the rest of my life, to promise a commitment to someone I wasn't sure I wanted to be with. To promise someone I would love and cherish them even though there was a possibility that that might not have been true.

After almost two years of being together, I did the honorable thing and told my fiance it was off. He was heartbroken, and he tried many times to convince me to give him another chance. But I told him he was better of without me and should be with someone who would truly appreciate him. Now though, I wonder what it would have been like. I don't think things would have grown. I would have numbed myself from everything and just fallen into the role of dutiful wife. I don't think I want to contemplate how I'd be if I'd had kids, for some reason that just doesn't compute. It wouldn't have killed my spirit, but it would have dulled me.

3. What if my brother hadn't passed away? It's painful and sinful to ask God why my brother died so young. It's even worse to think back on how for a whole month, as you watch his illness take over, you asked yourself, was this going to be terminal? Then chastise yourself for thinking something so stupid. I tell everyone, 'You would have loved my brother.' Everyone did. He was outgoing, funny, clownish and used his gangly features to get a laugh out of people. He had a temper on him, but he had such a soft and vulnerable side that makes me wish I hugged him more. I can't talk about him without mentioning a funny story of some sort. Although I don't know how my life would have turned out if he was still alive, but I know that half the things that happened would never have been. I would never have been engaged, I would never have met people who I thought were friends who ended up being my worst nightmare, I wouldn't have come to England, I wouldn't have done a masters or PhD. I wouldn't have met T-shirt man, Bus Driver, Architect. Would I ever have met Iris, Lulwa or Seroo? I honestly don't know how life would have turned out.

All I know is, everything happens for a reason. You are tested in many ways. It all just depends on how you handle them and how you react afterwards. Fate is not throwing yourself to the lions and saying there was nothing you could do about it.

Retail therapy: bad for the wallet, good for the soul

So basically GBL and I spent one incredible night together. I wore a fitted black dress (so fitted it looked painted on) with diamante heels and gradually through the evening his arm was getting more comfortable around his waist. We had an amazing time, I loved it, I didn't do the typical chick thing and fire 100 questions a minute, I just enjoyed the moment (and so glad I did now).

Two days later I get a call from him, being evasive and talking trivialities. I couldn't bare his tip-toeing any longer and just decided to get to the point in the kindest way possible. So I gently asked him, "What's on your mind?" I don't think he was quite expecting this, but I'm hoping that at this point he realises that I don't act like most girls as I hate to do the norm. He became profusely apologetic and took all the blame for what had happened the night before. He apologised for his behaviour and for leading me on. It DID knock the wind out of me and because of the shock I really couldn't respond, which probably worked to both our favours as I saved him from the potential abuse I could have hurled at him, which would have soured our friendship. Instead I injected humour into the situation and tried to make little quips when I found my voice. I'm guessing at this point he really could not believe his luck that he could have been let off so easily. If I'm to be truly honest at this point it was because I'd left quite a bit of money with him and I didn't want to lose it!

After the phone call had ended, I was incredibly angry and upset. How could he have been sorry for what had happened? I treasured that moment, then he came and p!$ed all over it in spectacular fashion! No, I wouldn't let him do this. I'd make him sorry that he'd done this to me... and so forth. In all honesty, I realised the only thing hurt was my pride. GBL was someone who I had fancied - past tense - but I realised I still liked him as a friend, I really did. The fact that he wanted us to still continue to be friends, for me to not stop calling or talking to him, to not cut him out of my life, hopefully (and I really do mean that because otherwise I'll sound incredibly naive) meant that he felt the same way I did.

I also realised, he wasn't the one I really wanted, and therefore, not a loss to be mourned, but to turn into a friend to treasure. I woke up feeling much better, happier and of course in the mood to leave the house. So I did. However, whether it was down to some sort of deep, repressed anger or sadness, I found that my recently cleared credit card was going to resurface. I found myself walking to the Topshop flagstore on Oxford Street. Now normally I only walk into that place to buy earrings as I never find their clothes to be flattering or reasonably priced. Today, however, I walked in with an open mind and a brand new card, which brought about a brand new respect for the high street giant.

I could not believe that considering it was a Sunday, how comfortable it was to roam around the store and find some little treasures tucked away in the racks, how their bags were actually truly elegant and how their silky mini skirts looked so feminine. As I passed the Fairtrade section of the store my eye caught the sight of something truly brilliant. In the t-shirt section was the perfect garment that should be used as a 'pick-me-up' for all girls whose hearts have been broken, whose self-confidence has taken a hit, or who in general want to show their sentiments to the world. The t-shirt read "I recycle boys". It was love at first sight. That was the last item I put in my basket, and I think the best buy of the lot (I got a silk, mini skirt from the Kate Moss selection which puts it in a close second as everyone knows you need to be tiny to fit into that stuff - ego boost points galore with that one!). When I got to the counter, I realised that my poor little account was going to take quite a beating for this unscheduled bit of retail therapy, but I walked the high streets of London (and Soho) feeling incredibly proud and empowered. I knew that tomorrow I was going to wear this t-shirt proudly to university, to my meeting with my supervisor and of course through the streets of London.

If there is one thing I believe a girl must have in her wardrobe, it must be an attitude enhancing garment or confidence boosting one - ladies, I believe I've found mine!

PS. I'm posting that picture on my facebook profile... let's hope he has as much of a sense of humour as I do.

The list keeps getting bigger...

I've done yet another stupid thing, the list just doesn't seem to end.

Friday I was having a wonderful time dancing round to music I really couldn't pick a beat to - Drum'n'bass. I was chatting to people I hadn't seen in months, and basically having a good time. I felt pretty, flighty and flirty. For most of the evening there had been something I'd wanted to say to one person in particular, and for some reason I felt that this was the night that I'd allow myself to be a little more flirtatious.

He has been, for a long time, someone who I found very attractive. Softly spoken, sweet, funny, witty and very good looking in a Gerard Butler way (so maybe we'll call him GBL? Gerard Butler Lookalike). Since the time I first knicked his chip, or even earlier than that (three years ago? Maybe earlier?) I've always had a soft spot for him. I'd sneakily ask for a hug, or just try to make him laugh (I don't know why he always had such a bright smile). Whenever I was around his friends, I'd always find myself asking after him. When he'd allow his hair to grow a little, I'd always found that it softened him and made him look so good. And those green eyes, so serene, quite peaceful really. What always got me a little worried was his ability to keep me talking. Sure it doesn't take much for me to get talking, but he was always the type to keep very quiet and allow people to talk. When we'd met up one evening for him to help me out with my research, we'd stayed for a couple of drinks and I found myself gabbing on about things that I didn't tell most people, and I couldn't believe it. Yes, you could say I've been fond of him for some time.

So Friday, in between dances and moving between floors I found myself keeping an eye out to see what his dance moves were like. He wasn't that bad, but very 'white man kinda has skills'. It was drum and bass, what could I expect? In between tunes and shifting of floors, we'd catch each other and tease one another. It wasn't until we were getting refreshments that I turned to him and said, "You're looking good out there, and may I add, in general." He gave a nod, slight smile and replied, "Why thank you, and so are you." The dancing continued, but I was getting quite tired and asked if I was taking people home. I ordered my cab and decided to give my ear drums a rest and sat on the couches in the lobby. GBL found me as he walked up the stairs and took up my invite (the whole tapping the spot next to me on the couch). We chatted for a bit until I got a call which I took outside. When I came back, I snuggled next to him and continued talking.

I then quietly said that there was something that I'd wanted to tell him, then changed my mind and said I couldn't. His arm came round me and he said in his sexy, deep, soft spoken voice, "Of course you can tell me." Now for most of the night I'd been rehearsing in my head a ditzy, cute but flirtatious line I thought I could get away with - because I know I can do that so well (sadly enough). Unfortunately, my head wasn't wired properly and instead I leaned forward, away from him and said "If there weren't complications, I'd fancy him like hell." I then paused, realised what I'd said and thought to hell with it, and said, "No, things are complicated, I fancy you like hell." I let it sink in, continuing to look ahead, until I heard his voice. I turned to him as he agreed with me that things were a little complicated, and he waited until I leaned back a little and was looking straight at him to say, "I feel the same way." I could feel the corners of my mouth twitching slightly into a smile. He then leaned in and added, "I mean, you're stunning." I don't know why, but my face just distorted into a confused look. I never thought he found me attractive in any way. I always found an excuse to touch him, hug him, play with his hair, wrap my arms around his neck, peck his cheek. In his cool laid back manner, I just never got the impression that he may have had the slightest interest in me. And here we were, sitting on a leather couch in a club very quietly telling the other that yes there was an attraction and no, we couldn't do anything about it.

For a few moments we sat there and stared at each other. And for a second I knew that he was thinking the same thing I was "Could we get away with a sneaky kiss?" Oh how I wanted to kiss him, I was so curious. I know we would have slowly leaned into each other, closed our eyes and held our breathe until our lips touched. I know he would have had lovely, soft lips. I know it would have started off gently and slow, and possibly would escalate into a more passionate link. I cupped his right cheek with my hand and brought myself closer, leaning my head slightly. My lips met his cheek and there the rested. I then whispered, "Happy birthday GBL." We looked at each other and quietly smiled.

Our moment didn't last as a couple of his friends, one of whom was involved in our set of 'complications' came to sit with us and say their goodbyes. My cab finally arrived and I went to grab my things. As I said my goodbyes to everyone, I walked to GBL and as I went to give him his usual peck, he wrapped his arms around me. I was slightly taken aback as he always held back and never gave me a proper hug, or from what I could see from the one he was giving me. His arms kept hold of me and as I felt them closing in more, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face against his. As we pulled away, his arms very slowly came away from my waist, his fingers lingering on my waist, before giving it a cheeky pinch. I giggled and left.

I knew I had just done something very foolish, and there was so much I had wanted to say. I had managed to say that I'd didn't have completely innocent intentions when we met up for my testing, which he said he'd enjoyed. But I wanted to tell him that I had been wanting him for so long. I wanted to kiss him! I wanted him. I messed things up. Now I just added more to it................. but who am I kidding? If I really didn't want it to happen, I would do the sensible thing and avoid it completely.

.....................which may explain why we didn't kiss that night.

Love or lust...?

According to my horoscope I should be careful about confusing lust for love and the other way round, that I should look deep into my feeling to know which I'm truly feeling. I thought I did know. I thought I had it sorted and that I knew which was which, I think I've got it sussed to a certain degree.

On a superficial level, I find him to be sexy, gorgeous, tasty and I just want to rip the clothes of his body and do terrible things to it – lust. On a deeper level, I find him to be wonderful, sweet, charming, funny, kind, old fashioned, considerate and sexy – love? I can't help but watch his pouty lips when he talks, when his green eyes light up, when his cheeks touch his eyes as he smiles or laugh. I can't help but watch his hands as he gestures or rests them somewhere, wondering if they'll ever rest on me. Is it wrong to wish that his arms would find their way around my shoulders instead of the back of his chair to rest on? Is it wrong to wish that I could rest my head on his shoulders or wrap my arms around his neck?

Friday night at Fabric, as he stood there in his t-shirt and jeans, I just couldn't help but feel fat. Looking at his t-shirt stretch over his fit and trim body, how as he raised his arms I got a peak of his trim and solid stomach, how his jeans hung a couple of inches under his navel. Could there be a sexier image? The teasing image of what lies beneath? Knowing that there's more hidden under a flimsy bit of cotton material that could be ripped of or slowly unbuttoned? How I wanted to reach out, allow my fingertips to stroke his hip bones, letting my fingers wrap around his waist, hooking my thumbs in his shirt and slowly lift it up to...

Ok, so that entire paragraph screams lust. So I have the intentions, I have every intention of doing nasty things to this man. I've had every possibility to pull his face to mine and show him just how passionately I feel about him. And yet I just can never bring myself to carry out the act – not even the simple act of gently brushing his face with my hand. Something holds me back. I finally realised what it was, I am not in a rush to push him into it. He is not ready to start something and this time around I realise I'm not to spoil it by being my usual self. I always initiate things, rush in, or doing something truly foolish to make the first move. This time it's different. This time I will wait until he is ready. If I'm not the person for him, at least I'd be able to rest in the knowledge that I didn't push him into something he didn't want or wasn't ready for. He needs time and that's what I'll give him. During that time, I'll sit on my hands, I'll continue to adore him from afar and wonder what it would be like to wear that shirt of his one day...

What do I come back to?

So I've been back for a little over a month now, and my sanity is still in tact. In fact, I'm a lot more mellow than I thought I would be, which is a good thing. I think it's because I have my research to distract me that allows me to keep that balance in my brain, and that when I want to relax, I really can. I've seen a few friends, but I'm not as antsy as last time I was here to see everyone because at this point it's my research that's getting in the way. However those who I have seen have told me the same thing (bar one). When they ask me how I'm doing in England and if I'm enjoying my PhD. When I tell them that I'm really happy there, they all then put a loving hand on my arm or shoulder and say, "stay there." That's not meant as an insult, it's meant as loving advice from one woman to another. They've known freedom, they've tasted independance and then had to come back to a life where everything is boiled down to whether you can get a man to do it for you because you sure as hell can't. To a place where there is no life other than work (if you're lucky enough to even like your job), going out shopping, going out to restaurants or going out to see friends/socialise.

Each friend/cousin/aunt who's seen me asks me what my life is like these days. It's almost as if they're asking me about a true love that I just adore, my face lights up, a smile spreads and I tilt my head to the side. Just by that look people can tell just how happy I am to be in London. I'll tell them that I'm happy and that life there is just how I've always wanted it to be, that although it's expensive, it's sometimes cold and dreary, there's always something to do and something to love. I don't go into too much detail into life in London because I'd hate for them to gossip or think I've gone mad living there away from my dad, but they can see how different things are for me and how content I am with life there.

And each time I'm done, they will always ask me, "Will you come back after you've finished your studies?" And each time I'll shrug and reply, "If there's a job here for me, then we'll see. For now I'll just see who wants me or picks up my CV." But they can see the glint in my eye and the corners of my mouth twitch, and they know that I secretly do not want to come back. They know that I cannot let on that I have no real intention of coming back, but that I'm not going to start rumours by flat out refusing to come back.

And each time I politely answer, they will lovingly warn me not to come back. If I value my sanity and happiness, I should not come back. To come back would turn me into one of them, a drone in a society where everything is superficial and progress is at a snail's pace. An aunt, who I have to admit is one of my favourites, told me not to come back. "What would you come back to? A job you hate? Marriage? Your dad? Trust me, stay in England, be happy, don't come back." It's funny how all the women (again, bar one) feel the same way. It's like getting a verbal, loving hug.

However, like this single woman who does not agree with the other women, the men have a different opinion of what I should do. They, of course, think I should come back once I'm done. I ask them why. They all say, "Because you're one of us and you need to start your life here again. You'll get a great paying job, be pampered at home and then you can settle down at get married." That last line always sticks in my craw. It makes me dig my heels into the ground and scowl at them. My favourite cousin and closest friend actually said that. When he came to see me in England, and he could see just how happy I was, his main concern was "and what happens when you want to get married?" I couldn't believe that was his main concern about my life - my life, as a woman would not be complete or fulfilled if I did not get married. How sexist can you get?

I look at life here and I realise that to come back here, to make my roots again, would be the hardest ever. When I was 12 and moved here, it took me 8 years to settle and become happy. Now that I'm 27, I think I'm too old for that. I'm already settled, I'm already happy with what I have. I'm tired of moving and I don't have the energy - physically and emotionally to do it anymore.

So maybe London is my true love, something that I can't bare the thought of being parted from. It took me 10 years to get back, it was my goal for a whole decade, do they really think I'd want to give that up?

*Song of the moment: "In The Waiting Line" Zero 7

The trick is to keep going...

Resolution recap:

resolution #2: So far I have tickets to 2 shows before I travel for my data collection. I have tickets to see Avenue Q (birthday present for a girlfriend) and tickets to see The Mikado (taking my grandmama). I've seen Avenue Q and always promise myself that I'd go and see it again, but in better seats. When I found that my student discount card could be used for just that with better price tags, I jumped at the opportunity and bought two tickets in the Royal Circle. As for the Mikado? Well, it's one of those ones that you always hear made fun of or talked about, and I wouldn't mind seeing exactly why.

However, on seeing how my plans with my data collection are slowly changing I'm wondering if it's possible to cancel all my plans that week to run around the rest of England to get everything done. We'll see.

resolution #4: An image came to me the other day while I was washing my face. It was the last time I sat on my best friend's couch and I was going to start my PhD. I had spent 3 months back home and although I didn't see her as often as I could (complications with my dad), we were still as close as ever. She was my best friend through uni, one of the teachers in my department and had tried (unsuccessfully) to set me up with her adorable brother. We sat on the couch that night talking about a number of things, everything. Suddenly it hit us that we were going to be apart for a long time, and both of us burst into tears. We'd spent nearly a year apart when I was doing my masters, but this was different. We'd grown so close working together, and this was heartbreaking for both of us. This wonderful, kind, caring, funny person was not going to be around to cheer me up or take care of me when I felt down. I loved her so much, to the point where I felt I could cry freely in her presence. We sat there hugging each other and crying into each other's shoulder.

I hadn't thought of that evening for so long - I hadn't thought of my friend! I sent her a text immediately. I'd felt awful that I hadn't contacted her in over a year (since she started applying to do her masters). I felt like a terrible friend for forgetting one of the most precious people in my life. I sent her a text telling her exactly how I felt and how much I missed her. I immediately got a call back. She sounded sombre and quiet, something I wasn't used to from such a loud, vivacious character and it kind of threw me off. She said she was boarding a plane to Dubai, "I'm doing my masters there." I congratulated her and didn't hide my excitment even though it sounded like she was telling me that she was ordering a pizza. She'd just finished her first term and would be there for another year and a half as they worked according to the American system. Her husband and daughter moved with her and the transition had been easier than they thought. I promised her (and myself) that I'd make sure we'd stay in touch, at least through small emails and texts if nothing else.

When I put the phone down, I was petrified I'd done some irrepairable damage. Hopefully I'll be more careful with my friends.

resolution #7: Although I spent yesterday bowling with the girls, and with the token male friend, I walked home thinking "I should be out stomping down a dance floor." I texted a friend to ask her if she was free next Saturday night. Apparently she was also in the mood for dancing, and much like me found that work was a better excuse to stay in this weekend (no trains are running today and so I've decided to start editing my writing). However, next weekend we have picked a place to go dancing and intend of looking glamourous doing it!

Now to crack on with the others and keep it up!!

A good start to the resolutions.

T-shirt is not out of my life, he's still in it, just not in a romantic way anymore. Things got squared off and for the better. - resolution #1 sorted.

New Year's Resolutions - 2008

I've never really made resolutions before, so here goes:

1. Stop thinking and pining for T-shirt man: I need to stop. The man clearly does not share the same feelings as I do. He does not meet up when I want to, but he will reply to texts or forwards I send. If I come to the games, I now just wave to the lads or we just say hello. No, he comes over to me, sometimes from the other side of the pitch to come over and give me a peck on the cheek. When we say goodbye, he makes sure we say goodbye to one another. No more! My horoscope said that I was in torment over a relationship I had with someone, and how that person is still in my life. However, I'm not sure if I want to keep that person in my life or not - but I should weigh my options carefully and really think whether I can live without this person or not. Twenty minutes later I received a text from him wishing me a Happy Christmas. I need to end my torment. I haven't wished him a Happy New Year - it pains me but it's for the best.

2. Get more culture: I need to go to more galleries, more theatre shows, watch more interesting cinema. My research cannot be used as the excuse as to why I don't add more culture to my life.

3. Make more girlfriends: Making the guest list for my birthday this week was shocking. I found the ratio of men to women was appalling. It's true that because I support the football team it kind of throws the balance a little, but it is no excuse. I have four girlfriends who I consider to be truly close, but that's not good enough. I need to make more effort! It's true that I find it so much easier to make male friends than it is to make female friends and that I befriend my male friend's girlfriends very easily (yes that's quite a brain twister), but that doesn't make them my girlfriends. No, I need to make more girlfriends and open myself up more.

4. Keep better contact with old friends: I'm going home for two months from February. I plan on spending at least two weeks catching up with all my friends. I've spent over a year away from them and I'm going back for research - but I'm also treating it as a holiday. Although I need to make more friends, I should not lose the ones I already have, especially those who have stuck with me at my worst times. But that goes the same for the ones here in England. There are so many friends that I've lost touch with and it's sad because they are people who I don't want to lose. No, I need to move my arse more and keep better contact with as many people as possible (I need to be realistic, I can't just change my laziness over night!).

5. Do more housework: I don't know how to iron, I hardly help around the house - it's disgusting. If I end up living on my own, which I really hope happens once I finish my degree and start working, I do NOT want to end up living in a pig sty. No, I want to be able to look after myself and basic housework skills are what I really need. So I will hopefully be more helpful around the house.

6. Don't always say 'yes' to dates: I was asked out to dinner by someone in the lab I was doing my research in. I didn't think he was my type at all, but thought because of his polite and friendly manner I would give his personality a chance. Not only was I let down greatly, but thanks to his friends I was humiliated in front of a lab when his absence was explained to another friend of his as his avoidance of meeting me! The next time I'm asked out on a date, I'll only say yes to those I'm actually attracted to - to hell with giving the 'good personality' ones chances.

7. Go dancing with the girls more: The nights when I've gone out in mixed groups, I've always had a good time. I love dancing as I can never contain myself around good music. When I went out with only my girlfriends for a night of salsa music I was truly in heaven. Never had I had as much fun with friends as I did that night. I loved just bring with a group of girls dancing, chatting and enjoying ourselves with some good, clean fun. A night I hope to repeat many times over.

8. Go to the cinema with a friend once a month: A girlfriend that is. I had more fun going out with my girlfriend to watch a movie and have dinner, than I did on any date I've ever had. The company was amazing, the movie was funny and the food was delish. I had the best night ever and managed to get home in time to watch my favourite program. A resolution I should keep at least once a month.

There are probably other resolutions I should make, ones that would improve me to a better degree, ones that would truly shape me into a better human being.

Happy New Year to all and may this year best one of the best that each of us has!

A wonderful holiday - shame it had to end

Yesterday I dropped my mother, sister and nephew at the airport. I had had an amazing time with them, and of course I left them feeling that I didn't spend enough time with them. I loved looking after my nephew (although it certainly sobered me up on ANY broody intentions I MAY have had), and I had a great time showing my sister the sights and highlights of London life. And of course I got to spend a (albeit marginally) little quality time with my mum. My sister was here for 3 weeks and my mother was here for 2. It was a wonderful time and it of course ended all too soon.



For some reason though it was extremely painful for my sister to leave. For the first time in our lives, my sister went out as adults and enjoyed a healthy social and night life. We went out to a gig, went out with friends, went dancing, and she enjoyed dinners out with people she hadn't seen in a while. She had had a wonderful holiday, everyone made sure of it. It was wonderful, and at the same time, understandably hard for her.



Let's put it this way, she had had 3 weeks where she could enjoy herself, leave her little boy at home with one of us (and he was very happy to stay with us) and do what she wanted. She met old friends and made new ones. Then she'd have to jump on a plane and go back to being a prim and proper wife and mum back in a country where there's diddle to do. I went ahead with my mum and the luggage in the car and my sister had to take the train with my nephew (there was no room and no baby seat) and as she phoned me to let me know she was on the train I could hear her voice cracking. I could hear her tears as she said, "I don't want to go." I knew that pain. She asked me not to tell our mum, but I knew how much it was hurting her to leave.



It's the same pain that I am absolutely terrified of feeling, tearing yourself away from a life you truly love and enjoy. She now knew what she was missing, and I'd been the one to give her a taste of it. I should have been more sensitive to it all, as I know what it's like when someone lets you know exactly what you're missing. But she had wanted a holiday she wouldn't forget - so I gave it to her.

Finding that balance of knowing how much fun to have is always tricky. It really depends on the person to find that balance, or learn to be able to cut off from it all. Maybe I'm talking nonsense - maybe I'm bullshitting about it all. How is anyone supposed to be able to cut themselves off from a good thing. I could hardly manage that when it came to some of the men in my life (t-shirt man). It's the tired cliche of "that's what makes us human." but really what else can it be? Responsibility is a bitch, and growing up is part of that. It's a painful process that forces us to make choices that we know we don't like or want to make (again another cliche).

I really wonder sometimes if I've done the right thing for myself by allowing myself to live here and lead this wonderful life. I've spoilt myself and can never go back to my old ways or home. I would not be able to fit in and I'd only be further depressed. I knew when I was 12 that I would have a horrible time moving back, I was right. For six years after that I was miserable, depressed and withdrawn from everyone and everything. I wasn't as social or as open as some and I know sometimes I gave my parents hell. Goodness only knows what I'd do this time around if I had to move back. Shave my head? Keep it constantly short and pixie like? Never get married and constantly go out with friends? Wear a dog collar with "Superior bitch" written on it? Get a tattoo - nah, too permanent and I'd change my mind straight after it.

For my sister, she goes back to a hubby (she took her son along for the holiday), for me it would be worse. I'd be moving back in with my parents. It wouldn't be terrible as I'd have my mother, who I love dearly, my problem would be my dad - how I dread that.

Ho hum

Another day, another empty computer lab. My earphones are not working and so I'm sitting here in silence, opening up my documents and writing up my notes saying what I have and haven't done in my research - whoop dee do. I've planned a big night out for my sister and me in London, and at this point I realise just how many times I've told people that "I don't care how many people show up, I just want a fun time." that I realise that the truth is I secretly hope that certain people show up. I look at the number of people I've invited and mentally list the number of people who've said they'd come and think the numbers just don't balance out.



I'm currently semi-seeing someone at the moment. When I told my girlfriend that he wasn't from the team, she cried, "thank f*ck for that!" I'm broadening my horizons I guess. He's 32, 6'2 (my true weakness) and has a great smile. We don't see much of each other because he's constantly traveling for work. He's a lovely guy and is very sweet. I have no problems with him traveling a lot or being extremely busy with work as that allows me my time to do my own work and research without feeling guilty. I just find myself wondering if we are actually a 'good fit'. He's lovely, he's good looking, he's fun (although sometimes I wonder if his idea of fun matches mine) and he's quite the gentleman. I get the little butterflies when I see a message from him and know I'm going to meet him. But at the same time I can't help but wonder just how 'into each other' we really are...



Then something else happens which illustrates just how I really feel about it all, I start thinking about t-shirt man all over again. I've been missing him again and realise that I'm not seeing this new guy to fill in a gap. It's something else. The problem is I'm in a bit of a dilemma. I'm traveling abroad for 3 months as part of my research. This will probably help me to sort my head out as I'll be away from everything and will basically spend my time either relaxing (I haven't visited my family in over a year). I need to distance myself from my London life for a while, take a step back and sort my head out a bit.



This week I thought about it, and finally formed the words to tell someone my idea. When I come back from data collection I'll talk to t-shirt man and see how he feels about giving things another go. He always said to me that when I knew what I wanted to come back to him and we'd see how things would go. Now that I think of it, I wonder if he'd want to. I just don't know if I'd want to go through that humiliation of being turned down and all. But if we do, I also know I run the risk of getting hurt again and even worse. But isn't that the whole point? If you really want that person you'd be willing to risk that?



I guess it all boils down to, do I know what I want and do I want it enough?

A Well Needed Distraction

Yesterday I spent the evening at the Jazz Cafe in Camden. Although I didn't need to spend the last bit of this week's buget and a bit of next week's one on a night out, I think it did me some good. Recently my work has dwindled to almost a halt and the men in my life have been causing havoc with my mind. I needed to get out of the mess of my head and my room and just enjoy myself. I was sent messages from different people all wondering what I wanted to do on a Saturday night, and only two of them actually had an idea of what to do. I quickly did my hair and make up, put on a sleeveless black top and trousers and ran out in my black satin, peep-toe heels.

I didn't know quite what to expect from the performance of Bugz in the Attic, but I just needed to be around something different. The company were an interesting mix of people who I knew and people who I was bound to meet at some point (not sure if they liked me really - hmmm). Ended up getting my tickets at the door for half-price thanks to a woman giving out flyers for it, and got in the first round. Like I said, I wasn't expecting much, what I got was well worth it. I spent the next four hours forgetting my problems and swaying to the live music around me. At times I'd swap funny stories with my friends and little comments, but most of the time I just forgot about how much I needed to let out what was in my head. One of the boys needed some "fresh air" and so I joined him. We spoke about different musics and people, and because of the lack of deafening beats my head seemed to be unplugged and slowly returning to that mist of what had happened on Thursday night (DAMN THAT MAN!). I stood there with my soft spoken friend, and after he was done with his first cigarette, I asked for a hug. For some strange and unapparent reason, I always ask this particular friend to hug me when we're at parties. There is always something so strangely comforting about them. Although it didn't last long, it was still quite a good one. It was then I realised that there was someone out there who's hugs I preferred a whole lot more and for the time being I just didn't want to think about him.

He finished a second cigarette and we made our way inside. The band had stopped before we left, but now most people were dancing and jigging to the records being played. I felt slightly alien and sorry I didn't order my cab while I was outside. I grabbed my jacket, called a cab and said goodbye to my friends. As I made my way home, my thoughts went back to Thursday night. Unfortunately, they were slightly blurred, but my feelings had also changed. Before I was resolute on a fact and a course of action. Now, although my thoughts were slightly misty with fatigue, I wasn't sure.

Now in the bright light of a beautiful midday in late August I realise just how I feel. I knew how I felt yesterday and how things change. Taking stock of my feelings at this point, I just don't know what I'm feeling. I know what I should do, but then I'm not sure I want to do it. Listening to Kate Nash singing about the rocky parts of her relationship and the crumbling foundations. It makes me wonder if I really need more drama... even if I've been wanting this for so long.

Who knows eh?

*I have a feeling I should have posted the previous post, but I know I'd be giving too much away before the time is right. But then an end point won't be found until I talk things through next weekend... I need to resolve this now that I have my closure.

If I wanted to get revenge...

...on all my exes to show I was over them, then God has given me the best opportunities this week.

A couple of days ago, I went to my gym for the first time and came out looking ok, I'd managed to blow dry my hair and get my face on before leaving. As I walked home and chatted on the phone to my aunt a handsome Spanish man drove past who looked familiar. It wasn't until we realised we were both staring at each other that we recognised one another. However, neither of us acknowledged the other (I was not in my gym clothes, but 'go to gym' clothes which weren't hideous, but weren't great either). I didn't care much about him, but I'd always hoped that I'd look effortlessly stunning when I'd see him next. Either way, I didn't think about him too much.

Once I got home I changed into better clothes (skinny jeans and long loose fitting black tee that looks cute) and ran out to do some errands. When I made my way home, another ex was on my bus home. Now THAT one I didn't mind seeing me, especially since I looked quite cute. We smiled said hello and I went home feeling pretty good that at how much he was grinning at me.

Today, I went to the hairdressers. I was slightly dubious as I wasn't sure what to expect with this new place and was half expecting to walk out with a mullet. The woman listened to what I tried to describe and I showed her what my hair used to be like and that I wanted to grow it back to that. I couldn't believe my luck when she actually listened to me and managed to make me look good. I walked out feeling confident and happier. I didn't bother changing (except for my scarf and bag with some work in it) and ran out.

I went down to Soho for a coffee and texted a girlfriend to see if she was in town. I sat at my usual haunt and decided to finish some much needed work. I looked at my watch every so often and realised that she must have been in the library. I finished my work and walked to campus with my coffee in my hand. I could feel a slight bounce in my step and didn't feel the need to plug my ears into my music. I'd smudged some black kohl to give me a more rock chick look and felt so glam. I was walking towards Charing Cross Road when I saw a familiar figure in a faded red t-shirt and jeans. The last guy to dump me, t-shirt man. He was deep in conversation with someone and was going to cross the road. I called out to him and he turned to me. At first he didn't really recognise me, but as he walked over a broad grin spread across his face. I felt great, I looked relaxed, cute and he finally got to see the laidback/student-y look I'd been hiding and he said he wanted to see. Although I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks I tried to act natural and was introduced to his friend. We didn't chat for long and I invited him to the party my friend and I are throwing next week. I'd already invited him, but I asked him again as he didn't seem to have gotten my invitation.

I went to see my girlfriend on campus, sure enough she was in the library. We chatted a bit and I told her about who I'd been running into. We giggled to ourselves when I felt a buzz in my pocket. T-shirt man had sent me a text, he liked my new hairdo. "When did you see him today?" My friend asked. "Half an hour before I saw you maybe?" I said. She grinned, "So that's 2 and a half hours he's been thinking about you."

I swear if I wanted to seek revenge on these guys on purpose, I'm sure the chances wouldn't have struck quite so naturally. I can't help but feel smug. I sent an invitation to t-shirt man again, he will try his best to make it and says I look well. I should get a t-shirt saying, "Cat that got the cream."

Let's see what happens at the party.

Sad but beautiful...

Just how attached can you get after 3 dates with someone? In this case, very. I knew this was coming, I knew things were going to go downhill, I knew it was going to be hard, but I didn't know why he wanted to end things in person. Actually, I did, he felt I deserved at least that. Initially I was slightly bitter that he'd be that selfish to seem the bigger person, for not doing it over the phone. When he asked me to say something, I asked him just why he felt he had to do this in person. He was completely taken aback and wondered why I'd not want to do it in person. I said, "Because then when I don't respond and don't know what to say, it's ok." The moment I said it, I knew it was true.

"But I want to know what is going through your head..." he said. I looked out the window, at the rain hitting the garden patio outside. My mouth opened, and that was it. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't worried about what a guy would think of me, I wasn't worried about what he'd say. The flood gates had been opened, and that was it. I told him everything, about my past, my family, the bad things that had happened, why I'd lost trust in men and not for one moment did he judge me. He held my hand and listened. I realised now why I liked him so much, because he made me feel safe. I realised just how comfortable I was with him. I didn't have to worry about my appearance or how I acted because he was above all that. It was at that moment that I realised how much I appreciated him doing this all in person, and how glad I was that I made the effort to come out and see him.

Neither of us had intended to stay longer than one drink, but when he decided he needed another, I realised I did too. It was truly strange, but we'd both felt suddenly liberated and really enjoyed ourselves. It was the strangest and best breakup. We talked, laughed and poked fun at each other. It was like we were on a great date and that there were no boundaries.

We knew it couldn't last forever, but neither of us wanted it to end. As we stood in the station, looking into each other's eyes, we both knew that we wouldn't be able to forget each other. When I felt his lips against my forehead I realised that although I knew this was coming, and although I knew I wasn't going to cry, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming surge of sadness. This beautiful person was leaving me, and we were both leaving it to fate to see what our future had in store for us. As his lips lingered against my skin, I didn't want to let go and yet I didn't want to hold onto him any longer. As we turned our seperate ways, I tried not to look back, until I saw his head turn away as he walked off. I felt a lump in my throat, but the tears never came. I hope they never do.

Jazz and romance...

I'm sitting here with a cup of coffee, looking at his picture. Yes, I finally got his picture as I asked for it in a roundabout way (said that it wasn't right he had pictures of me from presentation night to show his friends/work pals and I didn't have any). So this is what it's like to be romanced... taking things so slow. It's an odd feeling, I don't think I've been properly romanced like this. As sad as that sounds, it's so true. Only because I now realise that I tend to rush things.

Apparently he has the tendancy too, but this time, unspokenly, we both are taking it slow, and I like it. Dating, such a romantic concept. Sitting in a jazz restaurant, both dressed up, spending the evening dining on fine food, listening to great music and wrapped up in each other and great conversation. Learning about each other, building your profile of that person gradually. Learning what you have in common, understanding your differences. I can't help but blush everytime I think of how his eyes trace my lips, then my cheeks and then rest on my eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes.

Somehow, I already trust him. I know that he doesn't want to hurt me. But I also know that there is that potential that I will. I know I will get attached to him and I know that there IS that possibility of getting hurt. But when you are in any relationship there is always that potential, so why allow yourself to become consumed with that worry? I did in my last relationship and I could never enjoy it. But then so was he and he constantly reminded me of it, so why did either of us hold on?

No, this one, this one seems to have a slightly more mature approach to life. Yes, we had a discussion about relationship, yes he poured a jug of ice cold water on me about what he thought of my opinions/beliefs. But he did not poo-poo them which I was greatful for, he was just a little more realistic about it. He made me feel better about it by pulling me close, kissing me on the lips ever so gently and stating that he would definitely see me again.

I like him, and hopefully I'll be able to pace myself a little more. I think we both want to, which can only be a good thing...

The friends that you have and keep

It's 9:30am, I'm ready to have a shower (to start my day), I should do my bed and wash my breakfast dishes. My family have gone to take my great aunt to the airport, she was visiting us for a few days. I'm supposed to be at a football game, cheering on my team at a friendly, but I stayed at home because 1) I thought it was going to rain and I'm not going to support them in the rain like I did last year, 2) I needed to wake up at 6am to get ready and go, 3) I REALLY need to do some work for my research otherwise I'll be just incredibly lazy and a pointless student.

1) Turns out, it didn't rain, 2) I woke up at 6am to have my elderly aunt shouting down the stairs but was really woken up by my grandmother shushing her loudly, 3) I've been awake for 3 and a half hours and still haven't gotten any work done. Oh well!

I should have started working yesterday, but I felt like leaving the house and doing other things that didn't entail work, like meeting friends, taking pictures, having a relaxing day in the sun, walking from Wardour Street to Liverpool Street Station. I'd spent three weeks inside my house working my ass off. Everyone I knew or would talk to on a regular basis was not in the country or was busy with their own projects. Those three weeks were quite lonely. It's not because I split from BD. But it was because while everyone was away I took stock of the friends that I have here in London. The cold hard fact was, still is, I have more male friends than I do girlfriends. There is only one person who I keep up with religiously and that's it. All my girlfriends are in other places in the world, and it occured to me that my studies are also isolating me.

I know for a fact that's not the real excuse *ehem* I mean reason! I just can't always keep up with people. I'm lazy, I'm not one to be popular. Back home I had two main girlfriends who I would keep up with, and one of the reasons is because I worked with them. But I loved them, and still do. We didn't need to go out and party all the time, we'd go out for dinner, go to each other's houses, go for a coffee and bitch about work. I loved them. They were laid back and sorted. I knew that if I didn't talk to them for a few weeks, that I could pick up where I left off when I came back. I could trust them implicitly about everything in my life. I knew no matter what I did or said they would never judge me. Actually I know 5 people like that, and really those are the kind of people I like. That's the type of person I am. I don't phone people all the time. People don't know what's going on in my life at every second unless they live in my house, or in my pocket (on speed dial)!

When I first came to England, I have to admit. I had a large group of friends. But they weren't really mine, and you can't always have loyalties with friends that come as a package. I realised that they were not the kind of people who I was and that their demeanor was making me slightly paranoid. It wasn't until something terrible happened that I decided to change things. My phone contract had ended and I decided to start afresh. I changed my number and changed my friends. I ended up having three true friends by the time that I finished my MA, but when I handed it my dissertation and celebrated with my class I also realised I was saying goodbye to some really great people who I wanted to keep as friends.

Maybe that's it. I keep up with people who are within reach and those people who I can trust. Those people who I feel comfortable with. I have few friends because it's less people to keep track of and less people to worry about gossiping about you. It's not that I'm unfriendly, I just know who I like to be friends with, I know who I like and enjoy hanging out with, I know who I can trust and I know who I could turn to when I need help or someone to talk to. So what if I'm not popular? I know who my real friends are!

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.

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.

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?