There are thorns in everyone's lives.
People who get on your nerves or just people that you don't necessarily 'click' with. The sorts of people that have a tendency to rub you up the wrong way, who you can't really stand to be with even if it's for the briefest of moments.
But there are other types of thorns and brambles in our lives that we don't really think about too much because we learn to expect them.
Grief.
Death.
Losing love.
Constantly failing.
Disappointment.
I'd say we just learn to live with them and try and weigh our lives in favour of all the good things that happen to us... But right now I'm not in the mood.
That's because we don't always realise that we are the biggest thorns in our own lives.
Xx
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Rambled up North
Just a lil one to say hi and that I haven't forgotten you!!
I'm back up north in Liverpool and have just about moved in, though I am waiting for my darling Mother to drive up with the rest of my suitcases.
I am currently watching Underage and Pregnant.
Wow.
What a bleak life. Too much to think about.
And it isn't about me anyway. So who really cares.
I'm so happy to be back, though I do miss all the home comforts. Far too many trips to Asda already. But oh well.
Let's just see what happens after tonight.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
I'm back up north in Liverpool and have just about moved in, though I am waiting for my darling Mother to drive up with the rest of my suitcases.
I am currently watching Underage and Pregnant.
Wow.
What a bleak life. Too much to think about.
And it isn't about me anyway. So who really cares.
I'm so happy to be back, though I do miss all the home comforts. Far too many trips to Asda already. But oh well.
Let's just see what happens after tonight.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
Friday, 11 September 2009
What I rambled to myself the other day
28.08.09
I don't know what I want.
Of course I'm starting this talking about myself; I'm the only person that seems real to me, and then sometimes that reality isn't any more true than anyone else. It is only because I have to believe in myself.
We're all supposed to have a dream that we aspire to. So that when, if, it comes trye we can say the clichéd 'living the drea'. But how do we know what are individual dreams are when we have a steretypical dream shoved down our throats from day one? Like so many other children I was brought up on a diet of Disney. I can remember crying at the death of Mufasa, hiding behind the sofa as Gaston tried to kill the Beast and rejoicing at the love between Hercules and Meg. And - here we go with another contradiction - I don't think there is anything wrong with a child believing in a happy ending.
Even though they don't happen in real life.
How can I be so cynical at 19? Eurgh. Nearly wrote '17'. Do I still see myself as the immature 17 year old that I was? I really don't feel any different. No more mature, emotionally, at least. How could I be 'emotionally mature' when I am terrified of feeling?
I want to have that raw hope that we're supposed to have when we are young; The determination that we can change the world, that love will happen, that we don't have to be scared, that we can make our dreams (whatever they are) come true. I don't want to be scared and cynical and mean and rude and afraid. It sure does suck for wanting to have a 'normal' life. (Ok I do think that my life is 'normal' in the mundane, everyday sense). For example the most exciting that that has happened to me was bumping into my ex. Which is on a par with this fashion course that I really want to do. And the fact that I have become passionate about fashion.
God. I'm growing up into a cliché. A hypocritcal cliché! But I don't see what's so wrong with that.
Well, I mean, (Yes, I know I'm doing an English degree) I know that I lack emotional skills. I love my family - I would die for them - even though we don't always see eye to eye on certain subjects. It's what family does. I love my friends. They are always there for me. Through everything. They know me, better than I care to admit most of the time. And fortunately, better than they care to let on too.
But Eros love? The love that supposedly makes the world go round? The love that everyone secretly craves?
That's the kind of love that leaves me cold. The thought of that painstaking craving for love panics me into a denial of its existence. How can that sort of love survive when the entire world is so selfish and focussing 'I'? I know that I am responsible for this self-obsessing as much, if not more, than the next person, but I don't even have the capacity to share myself with someone else.
Why would I want to open up and be vulnerable? Why would I want to put my emotional gravity in someone else's hands? Why would I trust someone who cares for me, because that fact in itself shows that they are not worth the time or effort? I am an open person. Everyone knows everything about me. Ish.
But everything is different when you are drunk. Oh the joys of drunken talks, explosions of love and hate for your fellow drunkards. But to declare your love for someone when you are innebriated is all very well, but I do think it defeats the point - but that doesn't mean whatever is spewed isn't true.
In reality I know that anything I have voiced within my own mind 24hours prior to drinking will get splurged through the course of the night, along with vomit, dizziness and greasy chips.
Just because you say it drunk doesn't mean it isn't true. In fact it probably is true but you were too afraid to say it out loud, when sober and aware of your sense; the ones that warn you, telling you that you are an IDIOT for thinking them.
Yet I also think feelings that are blurted out when trollied should be ignored. You may now know how someone feels about you, or your crush now knows that they are the love of your life, but whoever is at the receiving end will respect you so much more if you manage to pluck up the courage to say it with pure, un-altered, tee-totalled emotion.
You know. Where you can't find the words, (instead of saying the same over and over again) where your palms are sweaty with fear of rejection, (instead of the drunken sweats) and you keep thinking to yourself that this is going to end badly - which it might - (instead of thinking that you are God's gift).
Everyone wants love. It surely is a very deluded person who denies this. Even I, with all my immature cynicism, want love. Terrified of the prospect becuase losing love is more painful than anything I could ever shoose to bear, but do I want it? There is no doubt in my mind. And what saddens me is that I want the fairytale ending; I wanting Disney to come along and write my ending where everything sorts itself out. Am I going to argue with my future love for a while before we realise we love each other? Is it a best friend that I never realised I loved? Even if it is the weirdo down the street, I just want to know who it is so I can that part of my life sorted. So I can then focus on the rest of my life.
Because without love, I can't concentrate on anything else.
For someone so cynical I spend far too much time thinking about the one thing that sends me running in the opposite direction. And that isn't even an exaggerationg. I mean, with the last man in my life, honestly I really did care about him (I feel confident to talk in the past tense now because I haven't thought about him in that way for a long time) and he made me happy and I was opening up(!) but of course I got scraed and ran away. Ok, it is more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, I can't deny it.
That's why I write this; because somewhere in the world someone said the first way to get over a problem is to accept that you have one. I have one. I am terrified of love. And I love myself. So I don't want to change. (Ok, not like creepily obsessed with myself, probably no more than your average 19 year old). Yet I can't halp thinking that my entire world is going round in circles and I'm just climbing a spiral staircase to somewhere that I might not like.
Back at the ranch...
Wow! Was I in a helluva mood when I wrote that?! Ha. I know it's quite difficult to read; in fact where I save my ramblings on my laptop is in a file called 'Narratives', or 'Streams of Consciousness'. I can never tell you what I'm going to write. It just comes out.
I know most of it doesn't make sense but it helps me to write... Think of yourselves as my guidance councellors! Literally, feel free to write down any advice if you think it's necessary. Just don't expect me to use it.
Bon nuit.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
I don't know what I want.
We're all supposed to have a dream that we aspire to. So that when, if, it comes trye we can say the clichéd 'living the drea'. But how do we know what are individual dreams are when we have a steretypical dream shoved down our throats from day one? Like so many other children I was brought up on a diet of Disney. I can remember crying at the death of Mufasa, hiding behind the sofa as Gaston tried to kill the Beast and rejoicing at the love between Hercules and Meg. And - here we go with another contradiction - I don't think there is anything wrong with a child believing in a happy ending.
Even though they don't happen in real life.
How can I be so cynical at 19? Eurgh. Nearly wrote '17'. Do I still see myself as the immature 17 year old that I was? I really don't feel any different. No more mature, emotionally, at least. How could I be 'emotionally mature' when I am terrified of feeling?
I want to have that raw hope that we're supposed to have when we are young; The determination that we can change the world, that love will happen, that we don't have to be scared, that we can make our dreams (whatever they are) come true. I don't want to be scared and cynical and mean and rude and afraid. It sure does suck for wanting to have a 'normal' life. (Ok I do think that my life is 'normal' in the mundane, everyday sense). For example the most exciting that that has happened to me was bumping into my ex. Which is on a par with this fashion course that I really want to do. And the fact that I have become passionate about fashion.
God. I'm growing up into a cliché. A hypocritcal cliché! But I don't see what's so wrong with that.
Well, I mean, (Yes, I know I'm doing an English degree) I know that I lack emotional skills. I love my family - I would die for them - even though we don't always see eye to eye on certain subjects. It's what family does. I love my friends. They are always there for me. Through everything. They know me, better than I care to admit most of the time. And fortunately, better than they care to let on too.
But Eros love? The love that supposedly makes the world go round? The love that everyone secretly craves?
Why would I want to open up and be vulnerable? Why would I want to put my emotional gravity in someone else's hands? Why would I trust someone who cares for me, because that fact in itself shows that they are not worth the time or effort? I am an open person. Everyone knows everything about me. Ish.
But everything is different when you are drunk. Oh the joys of drunken talks, explosions of love and hate for your fellow drunkards. But to declare your love for someone when you are innebriated is all very well, but I do think it defeats the point - but that doesn't mean whatever is spewed isn't true.
In reality I know that anything I have voiced within my own mind 24hours prior to drinking will get splurged through the course of the night, along with vomit, dizziness and greasy chips.
Just because you say it drunk doesn't mean it isn't true. In fact it probably is true but you were too afraid to say it out loud, when sober and aware of your sense; the ones that warn you, telling you that you are an IDIOT for thinking them.
Yet I also think feelings that are blurted out when trollied should be ignored. You may now know how someone feels about you, or your crush now knows that they are the love of your life, but whoever is at the receiving end will respect you so much more if you manage to pluck up the courage to say it with pure, un-altered, tee-totalled emotion.
You know. Where you can't find the words, (instead of saying the same over and over again) where your palms are sweaty with fear of rejection, (instead of the drunken sweats) and you keep thinking to yourself that this is going to end badly - which it might - (instead of thinking that you are God's gift).
Everyone wants love. It surely is a very deluded person who denies this. Even I, with all my immature cynicism, want love. Terrified of the prospect becuase losing love is more painful than anything I could ever shoose to bear, but do I want it? There is no doubt in my mind. And what saddens me is that I want the fairytale ending; I wanting Disney to come along and write my ending where everything sorts itself out. Am I going to argue with my future love for a while before we realise we love each other? Is it a best friend that I never realised I loved? Even if it is the weirdo down the street, I just want to know who it is so I can that part of my life sorted. So I can then focus on the rest of my life.
For someone so cynical I spend far too much time thinking about the one thing that sends me running in the opposite direction. And that isn't even an exaggerationg. I mean, with the last man in my life, honestly I really did care about him (I feel confident to talk in the past tense now because I haven't thought about him in that way for a long time) and he made me happy and I was opening up(!) but of course I got scraed and ran away. Ok, it is more complicated than that, but in a nutshell, I can't deny it.
That's why I write this; because somewhere in the world someone said the first way to get over a problem is to accept that you have one. I have one. I am terrified of love. And I love myself. So I don't want to change. (Ok, not like creepily obsessed with myself, probably no more than your average 19 year old). Yet I can't halp thinking that my entire world is going round in circles and I'm just climbing a spiral staircase to somewhere that I might not like.
Back at the ranch...
Wow! Was I in a helluva mood when I wrote that?! Ha. I know it's quite difficult to read; in fact where I save my ramblings on my laptop is in a file called 'Narratives', or 'Streams of Consciousness'. I can never tell you what I'm going to write. It just comes out.
I know most of it doesn't make sense but it helps me to write... Think of yourselves as my guidance councellors! Literally, feel free to write down any advice if you think it's necessary. Just don't expect me to use it.
Bon nuit.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
I am who I am.
I am who I am because of you.
Every desire reminds me of you.
Every touch, every kiss, and I know it's not you.
I am who I am because of you.
Remembering when we were together;
The bliss, the ecstasy, the doubt.
How can you love me when I was nothing before you?
How can you want me when I am in awe of you?
The agony that is now about,
Knowing that we are no longer together.
I am who I am because of you.
Every desire reminds me of you.
Every touch, every kiss, and I know it's not you.
I am who I am because of you.
No longer in your favour, why breathe?
No longer in your thoughts, why care?
But I can't.
I can't not think of you.
I am who I am because of you.
Hellooooo, just whipping out everyone's fave lil emo... This is something I wrote agggggeeeessss ago... I have loads. And most of them will probably get put up here.
The picture is from my back garden. Doesn't really have anything to do with the poem.
I love you all.
Ciao bellas. Xx
Monday, 7 September 2009
Musing... Rambling...
EVERYONE should love Muse.
They are immense.
Amazing.
Fantastical.
Incredible.
Unbelievable.
Just. Wow.
And not to mention talented.
Just. Wow.
I've been scouring muse.mu for the past couple of hours as well as listening to Radio One with Muse Night, and I couldn't be more happy. Good week.
I can feel it.
Minus the creepy bird/fish thing and a house burning down in my dream and spending far too much money...
Oh and of course I've been reading reviews to distract myself. Bring on the 14th.
Bring. It. On.
The gig I didn't go to on Friday. So. Jealous.
They are immense.
Amazing.
Fantastical.
Incredible.
Unbelievable.
Just. Wow.
And not to mention talented.
I've been scouring muse.mu for the past couple of hours as well as listening to Radio One with Muse Night, and I couldn't be more happy. Good week.
I can feel it.
Minus the creepy bird/fish thing and a house burning down in my dream and spending far too much money...
Oh and of course I've been reading reviews to distract myself. Bring on the 14th.
Bring. It. On.
The gig I didn't go to on Friday. So. Jealous.Sigh. Can't think about anything else. Mind is still scrambled.
Ciao Xx
Sunday, 6 September 2009
ScRambled
My mind is in a tizzy so I will just show you how amazing I am!!
So yeah. A boring shift dress from a vintage (charity) shop. I love the spilt paint look - I'm sure there is a more technical word but until then - and I love the colours. So I took up my needle and thread...
Aren't I uber cool?
And I sewed and cut and stitched within an inch of my life. (As an aside, this was so I wouldn't think about my friends who were on their way down to Devon to watch the BEST band in the world, Muse).
So yeah, after a couple of hours, about six to be precise, I had created a new dress! One that I would actually wear. If only for the novelty. And before the stitches and tacking came undone.
Ta da!
Aren't I uber cool?
And I sewed and cut and stitched within an inch of my life. (As an aside, this was so I wouldn't think about my friends who were on their way down to Devon to watch the BEST band in the world, Muse).
So yeah, after a couple of hours, about six to be precise, I had created a new dress! One that I would actually wear. If only for the novelty. And before the stitches and tacking came undone.
Ta da!
Ciao Bellas. Xx
Friday, 4 September 2009
Self-indulgent Ramble (!)
I know that all my rambles are self-indulgent, particularly as no one really cares and its for those of you that are bored beyond your wits until university, jobs, life starts up again. Believe me. I know.
But for now... I took some photos of my cousin in July. She was THE most reluctant model but I was determined to get some photos taken at our grandparents house.
I dressed her in her bikini and then draped a black sarong around her to make different dress styles. (This was just before we were to go on holiday to Portugal.)
I used a black and gold silk belt to tie it in place and then co-ordinated with jewellery and flip-flops.
The mask I've had for ages, there might have been some thought behind it originally but now I just think it's beautiful. I have another red, feathered one but its already in Liverpool looking after my room. My cousin has such attitude. I've never met anyone quite like her.
She hates her hair.
How, I have no idea. But she does.
When we were in Portugal we met a straight (!) hairdresser out there who loved her hair. On the night out that we met him, he handcuffed one of our guy friends and dragged him into this club called Garage and his other associate/colleague handcuffed me, put me over his shoulder, and proceeded to take advantage! It was hilarious.
On one of the other nights out, once we had the full acquaintance of... Frankenstein and Tub Tubs (they're really not half as bad as they sound), my cousin was lucky enough to have her hair backcombed within an inch of its life. I wish there were photos but I think we were all a wee bit too inebriated to really care at the time.
Back at the ranch... or rather the grandparents... we even indulged a crazy lil mofo. Or rather Crazy Lil Mofo. Yes, that is the name of the sweet, cute, fluffy, 6 month old baby bunny. You can thank my cousin for that one.
Ciao Bellas Xx
Thursday, 3 September 2009
Rambling into the Future
Are we really supposed to know what we want to do with our life? I haven't a clue, or at least it changes so often that I can never actually concentrate on something worthwhile for long enough for it to make an impact on my life. God I'm terrible.
I've tried everything, or at least everything that vaguely appeals to me; writing, drawing, photography, fashion, law, music in various forms and everything in between. Ok, I know I'm only 19 and I have the rest of my life to worry about mundane things like getting a job - one that pays more than the National Minimum Wage - but still, when I get asked what I want to do with my English/Sociology degree everyone assumes I want to be a teacher. Eurgh. The idea of teaching isn't horrific in itself, I just have an aversion to people assuming what I'm going to do with my life; so it has inadvertently lost the chance of even becoming an option. Plus I don't particularly like kids.
Currently I'm floating between the fashion/photography/drawing aspect of life, though I broke my camera, haven't been accepted to do the fashion course I wanted to do and of course cannot afford to buy a mannequin. Lucky me! So I make do with buying magazines and dreaming about what I would do if I were rich enough, talented enough or even lucky enough to have the sorts of opportunities that only come round once in a blue moon.
I walked passed this display where I live the other day (before I broke my camera, so technically the other month) and was so distracted I was late for work. Oops. It's nothing special I guess but I find it heartwarming to walk passed every Saturday. To the cafe. Where I work. For eight hours.
Ha. This is just a ramble of thoughts which I don't even find that interesting, but I was going to type them up anyway, I can't not write, so I thought I may as well add some pretty pictures and leave with you with worrying thoughts about my sanity.
Ha.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
Ooh... P.S. I am writing something for you to read, that should be interesting. And if it's not I'm going to have to scratch another possible career path!
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Rambling Through Youtube
I love Leighton Meester. There is no one more perfect.
And the fact that she can sing makes it so much better.
Is it wrong that I prefer people who can sing? Hmm.
Oh well.
Check out other beautiful and talented people on http://www.picturesofbeautifulwomen.blogspot.com/
Ciao Bellas Xx
And the fact that she can sing makes it so much better.
Is it wrong that I prefer people who can sing? Hmm.
Oh well.
Check out other beautiful and talented people on http://www.picturesofbeautifulwomen.blogspot.com/
Ciao Bellas Xx
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Emotional Rambling
Dare I write what I'm thinking? I have one eye closed at the moment as I try and type a few coherent sentences because of this bloody conjunctivitis and I think it'd time for the boys round...
There are a couple of men in my life - to say the least - and I care about them all in different ways. My mother says that friendship between men and women is hardly obtainable because men only want one thing... and its the ugly truth.
I was thinking about it the other day, men promise love and that makes women happy, where as we promise sex and that makes men happy. Take one away and there are issues. Obviously. But taking away 'love' is seen as the greater evil, for how can love just disappear? Whereas depriving your partner of sex, it's almost a right, though it does indicate deeper problems within the relationship. But I'm getting sidetracked down a path I don't think I'm ready to ramble...
So men. I have D., J., R., G., M. and C. and I don't even know if it's fair to write about them. I'm not going to be honest, I'm going to embellish, exaggerate, use hyperbole and all that jazz, (lie?) so that even you have difficulty working out who is who. ('You' being my friends, the only people to rummage through my ramblings).
The first of these male acquaintances is M. M who I have known since we were oh so young and innocent. He is your quintessetial good-looking, funny, sporty, academic. Yes such beings do exist. He is, to quote Mary Poppins, 'practically perfect in every way.' Except for being a flirt. And not in the sleazy kinda way, I know far too many of those, but he's the kind of guy that you feel safe with because you have his attention, even if it is fleetingly. Except now he's fallen hard under the spell of love. And I couldn't be more happy for him. And for her. Though they took their bloody time getting together!
Secondly there is C. Actually there are two C's and I'm going to combine their personalities because I can't fathom either of them so I may as well make it as complicated as possible! C is confident. No, that sounds wrong. C knows himself, self-aware maybe. He feels more than I thought it was possible for the male species to feel, but that's just my cynicism seeping through. C is a laugh, someone to have fun with, someone you can talk to but at the same time is your stereotypical bloke who wants you for what you can offer. Sex. I notice the contradictions and yes it is the clash of personalities for these two different men, but they do have one thing in common. Me. They want to possess me. Wow, could I come across as more arrogant? And that is reason enough to know that there is no point in going there. Not with C. Not with someone who wants me. Gotta be something wrong with C. Even though I care about C. Confused? Yep. Me too.
Now to J. J is amazing. The best of friends. I care about him immensely. If I'm upset at 3am who can I turn to? If I'm lost who do I call? (Ok other than R. as in girl R.) If I just need to get away and watch crap films where do I go? J is always there when I need him. He reminds me of Miss H. Ha I remember vaguely trying to set them up, before they'd even met. But J is shy. In fact I don't even know how I got to know him so well. We just click. I don't know what I'd do without him and I know that's a crappy cliché but it's true. Though don't get me wrong, I love him too pieces, but only as a friend. I couldn't go there in any other way. He needs someone who completely depends upon him and I'm not like that. Someone who only thinks about him, and I'm definitely not like that... So here I think I have my mother stumped.
As I do with G. Legend. My brother from another mother. I don't even know what there is to say about him but I can't write about the men in my life without including him! We have similar points of view on life, and we both hate missing out on anything that is going on. We are the first to say yes to a proposed night out. And the last to do any work. Legend. Can't say anymore.
Now we get to D. Words cannot describe. A player though he hates to admit it. Insecure, yes. Yet comes across as arrogant. He's an army boy, one of the lads, such a tease and has this annoying ability to read body language. But even with his outgoing personality he hates being seen as a player. Hates it. I'll never forget him telling me that he found that girls always liked him but he had to make more of an effort with guys. I laughed and said I had the same problem - well, not to the same extent - just guys always like me and the girlfriends hate me(!) D has been there to listen to all my problems with every guy that has waltzed into my life, and has made me realise that there are worse things in the world. Yet it's because of guys like D that I ruined the relationship I had with R.
R. The only person I have ever loved. And I ended it. I'm not with him and I pushed him away. Or rather forced him to choose between his girlfriend who he loves and me, the stalkerish ex-girlfriend. I don't blame him at all. And I'm not even sure if I want him back. At least not in that way. I just want him back in my life. He was my best friend. He knew everything about me. I was safe with him. Happy with him. In love with him. Why on earth did I end it? Oh, because I got bored. Eurgh. And because the prospect of staying with him was far too daunting. I got scared. I'm kinda pathetic. And now he's not in my life. I don't have a hold on him the way he still has one on me. And I hate it. I hate wanting people. I hate it. I feel so vulnerable and I'm not like that. I hate how he makes me feel. But then I remember how we were when we were together. And I can't let go. Not yet. I haven't had a relationship since him. And we broke up two years ago. And a month. Wow.
I'm not going to carry on about him because I could be here all day and I still haven't hoovered my room. But these are the men in my life. They have given me everything I could ask for, even if I threw it back in their faces. But maybe they've failed me as I haven't turned out to be kind or caring, but rather self-obsessed and vain... Yet they've stuck with me this far, well, just about. I care about all of them, differently, yet not so, because I feel their pain, I know their secrets, I don't like it when I can't get a hold of them. It saddens me to think that our relationships are only based on what we subconsciously think we can get from the other side. I know that isn't true. Or at least I can't believe it's true.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
There are a couple of men in my life - to say the least - and I care about them all in different ways. My mother says that friendship between men and women is hardly obtainable because men only want one thing... and its the ugly truth.
I was thinking about it the other day, men promise love and that makes women happy, where as we promise sex and that makes men happy. Take one away and there are issues. Obviously. But taking away 'love' is seen as the greater evil, for how can love just disappear? Whereas depriving your partner of sex, it's almost a right, though it does indicate deeper problems within the relationship. But I'm getting sidetracked down a path I don't think I'm ready to ramble...
So men. I have D., J., R., G., M. and C. and I don't even know if it's fair to write about them. I'm not going to be honest, I'm going to embellish, exaggerate, use hyperbole and all that jazz, (lie?) so that even you have difficulty working out who is who. ('You' being my friends, the only people to rummage through my ramblings).
The first of these male acquaintances is M. M who I have known since we were oh so young and innocent. He is your quintessetial good-looking, funny, sporty, academic. Yes such beings do exist. He is, to quote Mary Poppins, 'practically perfect in every way.' Except for being a flirt. And not in the sleazy kinda way, I know far too many of those, but he's the kind of guy that you feel safe with because you have his attention, even if it is fleetingly. Except now he's fallen hard under the spell of love. And I couldn't be more happy for him. And for her. Though they took their bloody time getting together!
Secondly there is C. Actually there are two C's and I'm going to combine their personalities because I can't fathom either of them so I may as well make it as complicated as possible! C is confident. No, that sounds wrong. C knows himself, self-aware maybe. He feels more than I thought it was possible for the male species to feel, but that's just my cynicism seeping through. C is a laugh, someone to have fun with, someone you can talk to but at the same time is your stereotypical bloke who wants you for what you can offer. Sex. I notice the contradictions and yes it is the clash of personalities for these two different men, but they do have one thing in common. Me. They want to possess me. Wow, could I come across as more arrogant? And that is reason enough to know that there is no point in going there. Not with C. Not with someone who wants me. Gotta be something wrong with C. Even though I care about C. Confused? Yep. Me too.
Now to J. J is amazing. The best of friends. I care about him immensely. If I'm upset at 3am who can I turn to? If I'm lost who do I call? (Ok other than R. as in girl R.) If I just need to get away and watch crap films where do I go? J is always there when I need him. He reminds me of Miss H. Ha I remember vaguely trying to set them up, before they'd even met. But J is shy. In fact I don't even know how I got to know him so well. We just click. I don't know what I'd do without him and I know that's a crappy cliché but it's true. Though don't get me wrong, I love him too pieces, but only as a friend. I couldn't go there in any other way. He needs someone who completely depends upon him and I'm not like that. Someone who only thinks about him, and I'm definitely not like that... So here I think I have my mother stumped.
As I do with G. Legend. My brother from another mother. I don't even know what there is to say about him but I can't write about the men in my life without including him! We have similar points of view on life, and we both hate missing out on anything that is going on. We are the first to say yes to a proposed night out. And the last to do any work. Legend. Can't say anymore.
Now we get to D. Words cannot describe. A player though he hates to admit it. Insecure, yes. Yet comes across as arrogant. He's an army boy, one of the lads, such a tease and has this annoying ability to read body language. But even with his outgoing personality he hates being seen as a player. Hates it. I'll never forget him telling me that he found that girls always liked him but he had to make more of an effort with guys. I laughed and said I had the same problem - well, not to the same extent - just guys always like me and the girlfriends hate me(!) D has been there to listen to all my problems with every guy that has waltzed into my life, and has made me realise that there are worse things in the world. Yet it's because of guys like D that I ruined the relationship I had with R.
R. The only person I have ever loved. And I ended it. I'm not with him and I pushed him away. Or rather forced him to choose between his girlfriend who he loves and me, the stalkerish ex-girlfriend. I don't blame him at all. And I'm not even sure if I want him back. At least not in that way. I just want him back in my life. He was my best friend. He knew everything about me. I was safe with him. Happy with him. In love with him. Why on earth did I end it? Oh, because I got bored. Eurgh. And because the prospect of staying with him was far too daunting. I got scared. I'm kinda pathetic. And now he's not in my life. I don't have a hold on him the way he still has one on me. And I hate it. I hate wanting people. I hate it. I feel so vulnerable and I'm not like that. I hate how he makes me feel. But then I remember how we were when we were together. And I can't let go. Not yet. I haven't had a relationship since him. And we broke up two years ago. And a month. Wow.
I'm not going to carry on about him because I could be here all day and I still haven't hoovered my room. But these are the men in my life. They have given me everything I could ask for, even if I threw it back in their faces. But maybe they've failed me as I haven't turned out to be kind or caring, but rather self-obsessed and vain... Yet they've stuck with me this far, well, just about. I care about all of them, differently, yet not so, because I feel their pain, I know their secrets, I don't like it when I can't get a hold of them. It saddens me to think that our relationships are only based on what we subconsciously think we can get from the other side. I know that isn't true. Or at least I can't believe it's true.
Ciao Bellas. Xx
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