Blindly I Walk

So, you'll never guess who decided to have a little "friendly" chat with my last night on the ever fantastic Facebook last night?? Mr Sheffield!! Brilliant huh?! 

I am so angry. 

At first I thought I was angry with him for being in contact, and so comfortably saying "Hi Gorgeous". No.

I'm angry at myself for letting him make me feel like this. 

He is the boy who whipped the carpet from under me. 

Argh.

I want to scream. 

And to counteract how I feel I thought it'd be a good idea to go out on a date tonight, what was I thinking?! Well, I was thinking, distraction. But I reckon the fact that he facebooked me to "catch up" and quite happily slip into conversation that he is in Manchester today has not helped!!

I feel sorry for the guy I am going out with. He seems like a genuine guy whom I have a lot in common with. 

I feel like such a wreck.


It's like I've let myself down feeling like this. I don't think it helps either that the guy I have been dating, London Boy, is as it says is moving to London and I just don't have the energy to be pursuing anyone moving away. 


I recently wrote a card to my Dad with a poem in it about Dave, it is how we've been communicating and connecting through his ever stranger separation from my Mum. I said to him it's not how I felt now, but I did, and that I am so glad I don't feel like this any more. I told him that although it's nothing like how he feels at this moment in time, but that using my writing helped me to express how I felt. 

Anyway, here's the poem:

 

Blindly I Walk

I reached out –

Stumbling in the dark for something,

Someone.

I clutch at unknowns, and

Pull back at the shock when I realise,

I am all

Alone.

Confused still, at his departure from my life.

I try to move past the

short time I spent in his arms.

Instead, I merely skirt round

the edges of reason

Seeking company with

strangers.

All I find is Solitude

OK, I've just got a text informing me that my date will be here in 10 minutes so I better go brush my teeth and put the last touches upon myself!!
 

Risky Business

It has been FAR too long since I logged on and blogged...or even read my fellow bloggers offerings. 

I think this is mainly to do with getting used to life on new shifts and supporting both my parents and big sister through their times of need.

Since I last blogged: my sister's boyfriend (now ex) broke up with her via text. Ouch; my (not so) little brother turned 21 without me; my sister and I took my Mum out for Mother's Day and we danced until the small hours fuelled by tequila; and I started to date a terribly funny young man who is moving to London, who I then decided to dump whilst drunk because of this.

So, Numero Uno:  dumping via text. 

I have been here, it hurts. 

Mainly because you feel so un-respected and ill treated by someone who claims to love you. But here is the dilema: we ask people out by text, so how come it's not OK to dump them by it? Is it any different to writing someone a letter to explain how you feel? Or an email? 

I'm not saying it's not shitty, it is cowardly and unfair. We have all taken the easy way out at some point in our lives, we cannot deny it. 


This leads rather nicely onto Numero Quatro: dating London boy, and deciding to dump him whilst intoxicated. 

John - good looking, funny, sarcastic, laid back (sometimes a little too much), intelligent, and quite happily good in bed :) 


Three and a half awesome dates, and 4 weeks later he is still all of the above, just not going to be living in Manchester for very much longer.


Reasons why this sucks: I laugh constantly when I am with him, he takes me to awesome places to eat, his kisses are lovely.


During a very alcohol and food fuelled barbecue on Saturday I decided to tell him (over the phone) that maybe we should just leave things and not see each other again as he is moving to London (for work, in case you were wondering). 

To this, he merely replied "Oh, OK". 

But I was trying not to get attached. I know this is minimising risks and taking the easy road, which I have been telling my sister that we have to take risks if we want to enjoy life, I feel pretty rubbish now.


I don't want to lie in my bed now I've made it, or eat my cake. 


So, when John called me on Sunday (I quickly apologised for telling him how I felt over the phone in my drunken state) and told me that whether I thought it a good idea for us to see one another again before he left, we still would, why do I feel shit still??


Worst thing is, by this time, I had arranged for the guy I met at New Year to come down to see me. And hand on heart, this was all very innocent as I genuinely believed that we were friends and nothing more. Well, one thing I need to do is learn to have self control because more than anything, I actually feel guilty. And John's not even my boyfriend!!


I am tired now, but glad I got the John story off my chest. 


I shall blog about family matters tomorrow post gym!! Oh yes, I am trying to get fit for my jollies to Greece!!

Soul Mates

A little creative output for you to peruse...

Soul Mates

Moths in the moonlight,

dancing a silent waltz

They flutter and float underneath the deep dark blue sky.

Embracing one another,

They move to the purring of the owls and the rustling breeze through the bull rushes.

A big fat wondrous full moon shines her blessings upon them.

Each star setting the mood, 

The pair glide together in absolute harmony.

Sleeping through Valentines

Happy belated Valentines!!

This year was the first year I can remember actually physically yearning for a Valentine. Despite having a handful of men on the periphery of my life, not one means a whole lot to me. The Banker seems to have decided to take a back seat, in fact they all have. A lot of this is to do with me having no time, and it kind of bothers me.

I am so ready to just have a boyfriend that I am comfortable with and I know makes me happy. I guess that's what makes me miss Mr Sheffield. 

I went for a lovely long muddy walk with my sister, and her boyfriends dog, to Lyme Park today. And it hit me that I don't care about these guys, I would like to, but I just have too much on. All I want is a cuddle when I want it. And men can't do that, at least not the ones I meet.

I guess I am ready for love, despite the heartbreak over Mr Sheffield. I was almost there with him, almost completely in love. Somehow, without even realising, I managed to stay at the lust stage. Despite thinking otherwise. 

So, anyway, to the point of this blog. 

Despite me wanting a Valentine so badly, I worked for 11 hours of it and slept for 8. Which means I didn't get chance to be preoccupied with worrying that I wasn't beating the door down because there weren't piles of cards behind it. 

The day just came, and went. 

Simple as that.

Ironic, really. 

I feel exhausted though. I haven't spoken to my Mum in almost a week, and that never happens. And to add insult to injury, my old work appear to not want to accept liability for my accident and it could appear I may need a new suit to go to court in!! Also, I am waiting on hearing whether or not I've got the Supervisor position at work...


Scary grown up times ahead!!

So, other than a serious lack of Valentines or even noticing it was Valentines when it came round, I think I can wait another year before I mope around once more!! 

Brain Cramp

Firstly, I cannot quite believe how fast January has gone. A whole month has flown by with my new job role and new men. My head is fit to burst and yet I don't know why. 

I have finally managed to get my head straight with Mr Pilot and let him know I am not ready to take on all of his problems as well as my own. But there's a part of me that feels so guilty. 

And then there's my parents. My Dad is now living next door to my Mum, which is good because they need to sort the relationship out. I was supposed to be going home on Tuesday for a couple of nights but I really can't do it. I can't stay with my Mum and pop next door to my Dad's. It would just be too weird. I sound so selfish but I just can't. I don't know how to put it into words. I need to go for a long walk somewhere, clear my head. 

I have no problems at work, I am working hard and putting my mind to use at last. I am so grateful even to have a permanent job. 

I have two guys I am just starting to date - Fleming (the cute Indie boy I met on a night out) and the Banker (who took me out and treated me the whole of the date). I don't feel attached to either one at the moment, and it's nice to have choice.

I have also just recently booked up to go to Greece, to hop around a few islands for 2 weeks in May, with two of my girlfriends.  


I even have a very busy social calender for the next month. Rare, in my line of work.

So, please explain to me why I feel so heavy hearted and why my brain feels as though it will explain. 

I have attention from men, a stable job, and a little escapade to look forward to. Yet, I feel so down trodden and exhausted. I have a nervous feeling in my stomach that something is going to go wrong or just explode. 

Humph. Not a happy blogger, with no reasons as to why. 

Perhaps my parents latest actions are affecting me more than I would like them to. Je ne sais pas. 

Maybe a good nights sleep before my shift tomorrow will help. I hope so. 

Dreaming Sweet Dreams

How lovely is it when you slink into a lobster pot bath, and then dry your locks with a blast of hot air? It's one of my favourite things. Just like slipping between clean sheets, the smell of old books, and the taste of melted Camembert.

I have been having a multitude of dreams lately, mainly because I am getting more sleep thanks to my new role as Trainer at work, there are less early starts. I dream that friends are pregnant and that I am travelling the world. I love the world of dreams, anything can happen. So unreal but feels so true whilst you are tucked up. 


Speaking of friends; I went to see my school friends this weekend. There was everything you would expect from a night in with people you grew up with - wine, home cooked food, laughter, tears, stories, hopes, dreams, fears and promises. I loved every second. 


I have to admit that I was one of the ones whose heart broke post drinking the expensive red wine. 


I conversed with my Dad before I left for my evening further North. He could barely string his sentences together and his voice was cracking as he rushed to say goodbye. Please don't get the wrong idea, I am not offended by this. I just hurt for him. I had no clue that he was in such a state, well if I did I've been placing it neatly to the back of my mind. 


He is in such purgatory right now, I feel awful for him. My Mum seems to be coping very well with him out of the family home, my not-so-little (20 y.o) brother too. I want to support him but I am unsure of how to do that. We are alike, him and I, but oh so different too. We use writing and poetry as an emotional outlet, and think things over far too much. The difference between us is that my crazy dreams stay my crazy dreams, my Dad lives his. 


I used to admire him for this, I yearned for the adventures he had lived. But now, I yearn for a little normality. A friend of mine told me that she would of given anything to have a dysfunctional family like mine!! I wouldn't give them up, not for all the gold in the world, but sometimes I want just one day where I don't worry about one of them overdosing on drugs, running away, or just being lonely. 

I know we all hurt when those closest to us hurt, but right now I feel like I am taking on all their pain and I want it to stop. I want them to all have an emotional rest, to be at ease with their lives, just for one moment, for them.

All of the above seems trivial compared to what so many are going through, like my friend Sophie, and her Mum. Debbie's got Lymphoma and is going through some pretty aggressive Chemo right now, from what Sophs says, she is handling it very well. Sophs on the other hand, is angry and irrational about the reasons why her Mum is suffering so cruelly. My heart goes out to her. I think that it is often easier for those who are physically ill to accept than it is for those around them.


Mental well being is another kettle of fish altogether. 


On that note, I am logging off. This has been the deepest, darkest post - not what I intended, honest.


Night night, Sweet Dreams xx

The Truth Hurts

Good evening!! 

OK, so I am trying something new-ish here (for me)...every time I think of texting Mr Sheffield; every time I am worrying about my new position as a trainer at work or whether or not to go for that supervisor role people suggest I should go for; or how I feel about my Dad recently moving out (albeit only next door), I am going to blog.

I am hoping that this will stop the desire to text or call Mr Sheffield every time I want to. The thing is whenever I do I don't get a response; he only ever texts me on his terms and I hate that. 


I am hoping that it will stop me from chewing my lips to bits during the night because I am worrying about my job, my parents and everyone else's problems and issues.

Game Playing

I am not fond of playing games, at all. I don't mind playing hard to get, but I refuse, point blank, to play manipulative mind games. Which as some women may agree, is hard not to do. Many girls out there, including my own darling sister, deem them as a natural part of getting a man. I, however, have played far too many games: waiting games, love me games, become closer to me games, miss me games and the push him away games. 
 
It's not something I am proud of, but I did it. When my heart crumbled because of Far Away Boy, something changed inside of me. I promised to be totally and utterly honest with myself, and all the people around me, including whomever my love interest was at the time. 

So far, so good. But I still haven't been true to myself. The reason I started this blog was so I had a way to vent and get all the gunk on my chest that I go over and over in my head into a "tissue" and throw it away (apologies for the gross analogy). But I have been using it to exploit my sexual relationships. I know it must seem that I am brandishing them, and I have not figured out why I would want to share them with the world; no clue whatsoever. 

From here on in, I am going to be as brutally honest with myself, often harder than being truthful to those in your life.

I will, of course, still keep you updated with the various men who sail through my life but I feel that this needs to be more of an escape for me more than anything. 

Dull, I'm sure. 

But I guess it will be my version of therapy. I have no idea why it has taken 12 months (or so) of blogging to realise this. I know many people blog to share with others their experiences of their lives, but I feel that this needs to be a sacred place where I share with myself. It won't matter how many people follow me or if anyone even reads it. The most important point will be that I am learning to be more honest with myself and to work out what I want from every aspect of my life.

Therefore, the first thing that will change is that this blog will become not an "insight into my ever changing love life", but quite simply "into my ever changing life". 

I would like to be able to use this blog as an opportunity to share my travels, dreams, poetry, and of course any naughty little stories that happen to crop up.

I guess it will be entirely self-indulgent, but sod it! 

I would use a normal big hard back diary, but typing is much faster nowadays anyway :)