Had the conversation today.
Wasn't really expecting it on msn but there it was.
I still feel exactly the same. Talking (or typing) hasn't changed anything. I still have no idea why, what, how etc...
I am still hurt and that will take time to fade.
It was supposed to be fun. That is all I wanted. A bit of a laugh. Someone there with their arm around you while you're watching a dvd. Someone to hold your hand at the movies.
If that someone knows you well enough to know that you are just a huge vat of neurosies then that is even better. Or so you would think.
Or they could just take all those neurosies and do the one thing that would make them all come alive and dance around your head like a circlet of dancing snakes.
I'm not explaining this very well.
I'm not pining. I'm not morning the loss of something special because it wasn't. No way you could describe it as that. More just 2 mates who got a bit to close.
He didn't break my heart, he messed with my head. Much less painful but more annoying.
He takes the route of destiny maybe having more in store for us down the line but not now. I'm being patronised. He asks if I understand. I'm being treated like an idiot.
And the reason I can maybe take things wrong and not the way they are meant is because it is so easy to do that on messenger. You cannot read someone if they are not there. But the lack of being there may mean so much more.
This isn't making any sense.
I'm not angry. There is nothing to be angry at. Well I am angry at myself for letting me get in to that situation again. I knew, on some level - deep, deep down, that it would end up badly. Judging by the history I also knew I would be the one who was hurt and would be left with no idea of what was going on like the idiot that I am.
At least, this time, it didn't take four years for me to find out why.
So what now?
Well carrying on the way I have been is no answer. Simply reverting to my stupid ways of my late teenage self does me no good at all. Yet there is comfort in the predictablility of it. I'm more in control. Depending on what I was drinking*. It feels nice just to be wanted. But they don't really want me. They want that image of something unobtainable that I project.
I should have stayed unobtainable.
I managed for 8 years. That cannot make me easy in anyones book and yet he managed to make me feel cheap and like a slut in one sentence whether he meant to or even knew if he was doing it or not.
I am writing this here because this is my blog. It is for me to write about what ever I want, be it world hungry, floods, earthquakes or the next guy who wants in my pants. I know there are people who read it who are not Lorna, Charlie and Matt etc. But I'm not making another blog just because there are others who may read this.
I write this for myself. For no-one else. It is my way of figuring out what is happening in my head. It was a place to share travel stories but I'm not traveling anymore so it is a place I write about the trivial happenings of my life.
Although buggering off half way around the globe sounds appealing again.
*On that note. I'm going to the pub tonight...