Rain.

Am I deluding myself by saying I'll start to look forward, not back, after my birthday? It's soon.
I'm not sure how to look forward, because I still see her in everything I do. I know I have to move on and get over the fact she doesn't want me, but it's not going to happen overnight.

I was planning to go into town tonight and try get something new to wear for the night I'm going out for my birthday [I'll be 21], but the rain is ridiculous, my drive home from work earlier was wild, really bad flooding and my fan belt is fucked. And I just don't feel like trudging round the shops in the dark, getting soaked. It hasn't stopped raining in like, 24 hours? More?

It hasn't even been a week since my sister left, and I already miss her like crazy. She seems to be having a pretty good time.

I'm so tired today. The last three days in work have been hectic, wish I wasn't left with so much responsibility. Of course the fact I've not been sleeping enough doesn't help. There's no proper excuse for it either, last night I stayed up late writing a song. I refused to go to bed until I had it finished.

It is mighty cold here, and I've no idea where everyone else is. Hello, leave me a note on the table/fridge please?

I'm going to take a trip to the off licence, does anyone want anything?

I miss my sister.
I miss B.

I miss my life a month ago.

Margie by Heathers.

Believe it or not I retraced my steps and I carried on walking back to where we first met, the stories we shared strewn all over the ground. The stories we shared, I wish I'd never found.

But I glued them back together, hoping everything would be better, and we'd be back together. Everything would be fine.

These things are meant to happen. And the evidence not forgotten. Everything will be better, everything will be fine.

I miss you.

I need to know what's going on in her head.
I need to know what she's thinking.
This is driving me mad. Fucking me up.

My sister is leaving in six days; I don't know what I'm going to do without her. I haven't really even accepted that she's going, it hasn't hit me yet.

If I don't hear from B by my birthday I'll be devastated. I'm going to need someone so much, and my two usual ports-of-call are my sister and B.

I really fucking miss B.

How very Charlie.

I wrote this on Thursday during my lunch break in work. Just trying to get my thoughts on paper, but it's pretty damn hard. I'm not too sure if I should even post this, but I'm trying self-therapy, and right now I'd try anything.

There are so many attachments that make a break up so difficult to deal with. Aside from the obvious loss of the other person, you have to accept that they don't want you any more. Which leads a paranoid person like me, who over-thinks things, to question every little detail. Did I say something wrong? Did I do something to agitate her? Was it something I wore one day, or how I wore my hair once? What was it that sparked it all off?
I have to accept that I can't text her whenever I feel like it. I won't get unexpected, cute texts from her during work. I don't get to kiss her, hold her hand, gaze at her, play with her hair, or any of those things.
We won't sit on her bed playing guitar and singing. We won't discuss books, authors or characters. We won't talk about our separate little oddities, our mini-obsessions, or compare ourselves to a fictional character.
There were so many things I never got to tell you. Like how I love the curve of your neck, and the taste of your mouth, and how you mess up my hair. And how you tease me and wind me up. And how you're the only person I've ever held eye-contact with for longer than ten seconds and not been petrified. I love your eyes. I love the way you look at me. Looked at me. No-one's ever looked at me like that before.
We had plans. All sorts of things we were going to do. Go to your formal together, you in a suit, me in a dress. Road trips. Getting drunk. Writing novels and articles. Walking on the beach. I was in the middle of making you a proper, meaningful mix CD, handmade cover and all.
I wanted to read books with you, do crosswords and Sudoku with you, drink coffee with you, share cigarettes with you, discuss books - plots, characters and endings - with you. I wanted to go for walks with you, and take our dogs with us.
I wanted to treat you so well, love you properly, take care of you, hold you so close, guard your heart, protect you from the world.
But, it wasn't to be.
Now I won't get to spend my twenty-first birthday with you, or get you to be the first to read my novel, or get to send you little surprise gifts, or make you tea, or tell you I love you.

I hope [she] does all of these things for you. I hope she makes you happy, makes you truly, genuinely smile. I hope she treats you right. Most of all, I hope she appreciates you, because God knows I wish you were mine.

I still love you.
Unwelcome Sound. xx

I was actually starting to feel slightly better about it.
Was.
Past tense.

Language warning. Anger warning.

Guess the FUCK what?
She is going back to her fucking ex girlfriend!
I waited five FUCKING years, got one week, and her ex wins yet a-fucking-gain.

I'm going to be sick.

I feel the biggest fool.
I feel like I can't breathe. Like, my chest is compressing so hard and squeezing my heart so tight that there is no way I can ever use it again.

HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU BROKEN MY FUCKING HEART?
I shoulda seen this coming anyway. I just let myself believe it was finally my turn.

Making pathetic excuses for all of this does not help at all.
I am so fucking angry. Moreover, I am so fucking upset.

Please nobody tell me it's my fault, no-one say 'I told you so'.
I did the right thing, I refused to be with her while she was with N.
I DID THE RIGHT THING.
N has fucked her over more times than I can remember, cheated on her, left her for their friend, told her she hated her, been a complete bitch to her, ETC.
What have I ever done to her?

I've already taken too many painkillers. Don't worry, I'm not gonna go overdosing and ending up in hospital.

She just texted asking for my address so she can mail me the money for the hotel we stayed in last night that I paid for.

This fucking hurts.