Too Much Information

After my pointless rushing around this morning (which I suppose wasn't pointless in that it got me out of bed, washed and dressed at a reasonable hour), I felt low. So low, that I was momentarily even tempted to text The Ex. Bad idea, I know. And not, I might add, even a serious consideration. Just a moment of madness in the midst of a cloud of loneliness, knowing that if I did send a text, I would very likely get a response. I know that is not a good or honourable reason to initiate contact with someone from whom I have distanced myself out of choice and for good reason too. It's not fair on him and it doesn't reflect well on me, my self-control, or my integrity. BFTP talked a lot about having integrity that doesn't change based on how others act and it has stayed in my mind.

I know that I am feeling low and so I text The Mrs. instead. I know she has started her placements again, so I am not expecting a reply, but I tell her that I just needed to text her to stop me from doing something stupid. I tell her that I am not coping very well with things at the moment and am feeling low and just needed to get it off my chest. I feel better. A minute or two later, she calls. She is at home. She is working a late shift today, which doesn't start until the afternoon. She chastises me for even contemplating texting The Ex. This is exactly the reason I needed to talk to her. We talk for a while and she tries to cheer me up. She offers to talk about her ex and how stupid he is, but I don't think even that can cheer me up. I was wrong. She tells me about him contacting her yesterday to tell her all about how in love he is with his new girlfriend. She tells him a few home truths that crack me up and soon send him packing. I love that she is slowly getting over that difficult period of her life and I am really pleased that she seems to be in a much healthier relationship with the New Boy. I hear him in the background because she catches him trying to listen in to her conversation and they laugh while she sends him to the other corner of the tiny flat. I like how they interact together. They are a cute couple and I hope they can get past all the difficulties and stay together. Eventually, she has to get ready, but tells me she will call me on her way home from shift. She tells me that things will be OK and reminds me not to contact The Ex. She instead jokingly (or not so) gives me permission to contact NY Guy, but I decline. We laugh and then sign off. I am still feeling a little bit low, but I feel loads better already.

After looking at a few jobs online (optimistic), checking my emails (pointless) and watching TV (distraction), I know I should get off my arse and start doing something more worthwhile. So, what to do today? I know, I'll go and get a smear test! Yay! I'm so not kidding. OK, so the enthusiasm is made up, but I really did go and do this today. I'm due one and it made sense to see if I could get an appointment while I'm off work. I wasn't expecting they'd have an appointment today, but they had a cancellation, so what the hey.

Before my appointment, I decided to go on a shopping expedition to hunt and gather for my family using a combination of minimal funds, coupons and a £1 voucher. Yes, times are hard. The news today reported that the recession ended in May. Yeah, not mine, mate. Anyway, I had to get the bus to go and buy some foodage and try and get back in time for my appointment. I tried to remember my mental shopping list of items (which was relatively easy, considering how short that list actually was) and tried to revive my mental arithmetic skills as I calculated my running total while I shopped. When I went to pay, my card was declined. My mental arithmetic is clearly not up to scratch. I had the shame of removing a couple of items and was relieved when it went through the second time. Luckily, I had a very sweet cashier lady who was understanding and had a kind face and didn't make me feel like an utter chav.

I just missed a bus on the way back, but true to form, another one was 5 minutes behind it and I got to the surgery with 10 minutes to spare. I sort of needed the loo, but didn't want them to call me when I was in there, especially since when I checked in at reception, I was informed that the nurse was running on time. I also didn't really want to carry all my shopping into the toilets with me. However, after waiting a few minutes I thought I should probably go. There were two unisex doors and I opened the first door which was rather heavy and managed to walk in on some poor boy having a sit-down wee. His blank expression is etched on my mind. I closed the door, saying "Oh, sorry! Sorry darling," feeling embarrassed and hoping I hadn't scarred him for life. It may just be me, but I have an unnatural fear of/aversion to people walking in on me while on the toilet. But it's quite possible that I'm just odd.

After successfully finding the second cubicle child-free, I did my business, washed my hands and came back out to the waiting room with a minute to spare. I needn't have bothered rushing, I had to wait another 5 minutes before the beep and my name on the display indicated that the nurse was ready for me. Smear tests are not my most favourite past-time, but I think I may just have had a particularly uncomfortable experience with my first one that seems seared into my memory. Since then, they have been very quick and relatively free of discomfort. The nurse was very sweet, conscious that I might be feeling uncomfortable or nervous (which for a change, I wasn't) and was very gentle and quick. The results don't come for a few weeks and then hopefully that's it for another 3 years.

I headed home and put the shopping away. The day has been productive. Ish. On the grand scale of productivity, perhaps it hasn't broken any records, but based on my mood this morning, I'd say I've done OK. I've realised though, that I've written a post about bodily functions, banal shopping anecdotes and generally the kind of things that probably no-one really wants to know about. I may have reached a new low in my blog writing. Some days are just like this.

Turn the Lights Off When You Leave

This week, I seem to be in the habit of reaching to switch the lights off whenever I leave a room. I seem to do it without even thinking, regardless of whether there is another person still in that room. I keep catching myself reaching for the switch and smile. I'm not sure why I'm in this habit. I don't tend to leave lights on unnecessarily and am somewhat conscious about saving energy, but this week it seems to be an especially robotic reaction.

I am desperately missing BFTP at the moment and it got me thinking about him. Whether he intended to or not, when he decided to halt contact in order to deal with his problems on his own, he turned the light out on me when he left. It might sound a little dramatic, and I wish that I was exaggerating, but right now, it's exactly how it feels. Since we've not been in contact I have felt utterly miserable. I am finding it hard to see hope, light or anything good at the end of this tunnel. I have felt lost. I have felt incredibly lonely. I have started feeling desperately low again. I have been on the verge of tears much more often than I should be. I can't even explain this feeling. I honestly feel like a part of me has deteriorated and disappeared.

I texted him last night, against my better judgement, but perhaps out of sheer desperation. I am curious to know whether his withdrawal is genuinely helping him to feel better and enabling him to deal with his problems more effectively. I hope for his sake that it is, but hope for my sake that it is not. If he is finding it easier being out of contact with me, then I'm not sure how I'll feel. It will hurt a little, but most of all it will make me wonder what my problem is. If he's getting by fine, then what the hell has happened to me? I should be able to get on with my life and function normally, shouldn't I? It has barely been a week and I'm on the verge of some kind of breakdown. I don't know if it's the absence of BFTP specifically, the absence of a man I am close to, or the pain of rejection I feel at being held at bay by someone I care about and the negative flashbacks it gives me to similar situations with NY Guy. I think it's a combination of all of those feelings, but mostly, I just miss BFTP because he's an amazing person. He became such a positive influence in my life and one that challenged, motivated, encouraged and strengthened me.

All I had suggested was that we slow things down a little so that they weren't so intense, knowing that we both still have huge vulnerabilities and each have a tendency to wear our hearts on our sleeves and let our feelings run away with us. I was trying to protect the both of us, but I never intended that our contact should just stop overnight. To have such a stark difference in contact enforced on me so quickly is really hard to accept. We were having daily contact, even if it was just doing our morning devotional together or exchanging a text or two throughout the day, but it was literally enabling me to face each day and get through it feeling relatively positive. Right now, it's almost a struggle just being awake, just existing through each day. I feel utterly miserable and I don't know how to get out of it. I feel like I've been set back about 6 months. Right now, I am just sitting here in the dark, wondering how on earth I'm going to turn the lights back on.

All Dressed (Up) With Nowhere To Go

My week just gets better and better! Today, work had organised an 'away day' as part of their post-restructure team-building. They wouldn't tell us what the activities would constitute (it was part of the 'surprise'), but it was taking place at some sort of activity centre north of London. Initially, I had booked the time off work because of NY Guy's visit. When we broke up, I decided to keep the leave booked anyway, but then they announced this away day. Feeling like I should probably make an effort to attend, partly because I wasn't going away anywhere so was going to be in town anyway, partly because I thought it would probably be a good idea to take one for the team and partly because it was essentially a day out of the office that counted as a work day, I cancelled that one day of holiday and vowed to attend.

Fast forward to last night and I am checking travel details on my increasingly slow laptop. I am having trouble figuring out which will be the best route, am getting frustrated, am feeling tired and am starting to wish I had just kept the day off instead of agreeing to go on this stupid outing. I spent the day cleaning and only just finish what I had started in my room by about 11pm. Just after sunset, I discovered to my frustration that none of the lights in my room are working, save for a tiny lamp that is half broken and only works if two bits of its metal stand are connected in a particular way. This severely impedes my room cleaning endeavours. I put clean bed covers on and then had a bath at close to midnight. By the time I go to sleep, it is 2am. When my alarm goes off at 6am, I am baffled by the rude awakening and seem unable to open my eyes properly. I wake up and it is 7.15am. Crapola. I rush to get ready, cleaning my teeth and washing my face at the kitchen sink because Big Sis and Bro-in-Law are taking turns in the bathroom. I am already close to tears. I am really not feeling the prospect of a day of 'forced fun' and am already stressed because of the fact that I am not as organised as I would have liked to be. I am rushing and I hate doing that when I'm not certain of my journey. I try to finalise my travel plans, but my internet browser is not co-operating. I have to check it at intervals as I get dressed, still not completely sure what the easiest route will be, but thankful that I should still make it on time, despite my hour lay-in.

I left the house and went to the station to buy a ticket. Annoyingly, none of the train details were up on the screens. As I waited in line for the ticket machine, I heard the station attendant telling another person that there are delays. "How long are the delays?" the lady asked. "30 minutes, an hour, I don't know," he answered apologetically, "nothing's running to timetable." I sighed at the predictability of things never working out right. It was likely I was going to be really late either way. We were meant to be meeting at the train station at 9.30am to be picked up and taken to the centre by minibus. It was already 8.15am. Even if I managed to get to the station by 10.00am, I didn't know how to get to the centre and wasn't sure if they'd still be able to pick me up at that time. It was my turn at the ticket machine. I found the right ticket for my journey and inserted my card to pay. Declined. I look at the machine in despair and realise that I have no other way of paying for this stupid ticket. Taking my card, I realise that despite my efforts, my attendance at this away day is just not going to happen. Aside from the transport issues, those are irrelevant if I can't even pay for the ticket.

As I walk back home, I am feeling irritable. I am somewhat relieved that I can't go, but am annoyed at all the stress and effort only to find that I can't go because of money (story of my life at the moment) and concerned at how my absence will look. I know my boss will probably be unimpressed, regardless of my explanation, and the management will probably use this as another reason against me if I apply for that internal position. I get home, feeling hot, annoyed and upset. I am all dressed and ready, with nowhere to go. I feel depressed. I am still close to tears and wish I could talk to someone, but feel stupid doing so. Most of all, I wish I could talk to BFTP, but the thought of it and the fact that I can't is making me feel worse. I make myself some tea and text my colleague, Miss T. I then text my boss and await a response, fully expecting her to make me feel worse than I already do. Miss T informs me that she had her interview for the internal position yesterday and didn't get it. I am surprised, but am glad to hear that she is not fazed by it and sees it as good experience. It makes me question whether it is worth applying myself. I know that if I am unsuccessful, I am going to find it even harder to enjoy working there than I already do.

Boss Lady texts back a bland response. It doesn't matter what she says, unless she is overtly friendly or sympathetic, I always get a sense of disappointment or irritation from her. I try to brush it off. There is no point allowing it to make me feel crap, when there is literally nothing I can do. I already feel rubbish about the fact that my funds have depleted so quickly. Never mind getting to the stupid away day, how am I going to eat for the rest of the month?! Lol. I sit on my bed, drinking my tea, watching some TV and decide to write a blog. It's my only outlet at the moment. It looks like lucky ol' me has another day of housework ahead.

Love: Past or Present?

The evening after my conversation my BFTP (you know, the one that I had thought had been relatively successful but which turned out to seemingly ruin everything we had created), I got an email from NY Guy. He was just reminding me that he was arriving in London the next day and that he's sure I must have seen his text telling me that he'd be here for four months. He says he knows that I have moved on and that he respects that. But he still thinks we should meet for coffee or something while he's over here, just to actually meet and say hi. It would mean a lot to him. He says that if he doesn't hear from me, he'll assume that I don't want to meet up, but that he would appreciate a response either way.

I ponder the thought for a while. I have wondered, since everything that has happened recently, whether it was realistic, or even practical of me to think we wouldn't see each other. It's not even that I was completely against the idea, it was more that I knew it would be difficult for both of us and could be potentially unwise of me to put myself in that situation, knowing how fraught and still a little raw the emotions are. In a conversation with BFTP, he said he didn't really see a difference between truly loving someone and being in love with them, in terms of that your love for the person doesn't just disappear just because you aren't together anymore. It got me thinking and I started assessing where I really was emotionally. He's right in some ways; if you really loved someone, the love doesn't magically dissolve when your relationship status does. I know that if I'm honest with myself, I still love The Ex. But perhaps it's just a different kind of love now. I'm not in love with him. I know that when we were together, I truly loved him as a person, even though things weren't always particularly great between us. But that's part of the reason I know I loved him, because I stuck by him. I knew there were things about him that I didn't always like, but I loved him as he was, with all his faults, because I knew that deep down the person he was at his core was a good one.

My problem is that just because you retain a form of love for a person, it doesn't automatically mean you can maintain a relationship with them, even if it's just a casual friendship. Sometimes, you can't ever rebuild any sort of relationship with a person after you have broken up. In other situations, you can, but it may take a long time before it can happen. I think this might be the case with me and The Ex. I still care for him, I still have concern for him, I still occasionally wonder if he is doing OK and feel tempted to call and check. But I know that I can't do that right now, partly because all previous attempts to do so out of this 'love' I have for him, have either ended up being misconstrued on some occasions, or have maybe had dual motives on my part, on others. There is always a difficulty continuing some sort of relationship or contact with an ex, when one or both of you are still single, or have a relationship status that is still undefined. I think with the sort of relationships where the romantic lines have been very definitely crossed at some time in the past, to subsequently maintain a friendship there have to be very clear boundaries. Such boundaries may be hard to stay inside of, if one or both of you still has some romantic feelings for the other, no matter how vague they may be.

In the past, I thought that a clear sign of being over someone you had once had feelings for or been involved with, was not being physically attracted to them anymore. Quite often, when my emotional and romantic attraction or affection for someone has gone, my physical attraction to them also goes. Attraction for me is so intertwined in the way someone is as a person, that if I become disillusioned with their character, their physical appeal gradually dissipates also. But perhaps this only happens when love has turned sour? For a while, I wasn't attracted to The Ex anymore. I saw this as a clear sign that I was definitely over him. But the thing was that I was in love with NY Guy at the time. When I hit a low point and things with NY Guy had seemingly broken down, contact from The Ex revealed to me that I was still attracted to him. But what was I attracted to? Was it just the fact that I was lonely and vulnerable and upset, and that the fact he cared for and wanted me was appealing? Was it that I could see that he had worked on some of the things that were negative about him and had realised some of the things he had done wrong? Was it his apology and contrition for how he had treated me that made him more attractive? Was it just because there is a comfort we have with each other that is so easy to slip back into because it is so familiar to both of us? I'm not really sure what it was, but I'm not sure that any of these reasons are necessarily healthy or good ones. In any case, attraction does not equal love, on any level.

Either way, for all my thinking, I know that in the past I may have confused the two. Or perhaps where the lines became blurred was when I still felt a form of love for a person and still had an attraction to them, even though I didn't want to be with them. I think that's the key. If you know that the relationship isn't right or healthy for you, regardless of whether you love, are in love with or are attracted to the person, it's all irrelevant. I mean, if the only requirement for a successful relationship was a form of love, then I may as well still be with The Ex. But relationships are not that simple and there are many more facets to compatibility that go towards making a partnership successful or not. Staying together takes work, and you need more than just love to make that happen.

Life + Me = Non-Compatible

Today has been a total non-day. I intended to wake up early and have a full, productive schedule. Unfortunately, after a very late night on Saturday (for no real reason, I wasn't out partying), I was still wide awake at 3am on Sunday morning and consequently got up later than planned. I woke and washed, deciding to floss my teeth randomly and realising that not only is my mouth is still sore from my wisdom tooth growth, but my bottom front two teeth have annoyingly become a little more crooked because of it. After getting some breakfast and watching a little morning trash TV with Big Sis, I did a couple of loads of laundry and then tried to sort out our technical difficulties - our Sky+ remote is suddenly not working after only two weeks, and our PC won't connect to our new internet connection.

The troubleshooting with the remote proves fruitless. All the steps for restarting the system and re-establishing connection between the box and the remote don't work any. The only option is to order a new remote and in the meantime get up any time we want a channel change, which is more than a little annoying. I turn my attention to the PC. The router is directly connected to it, and my laptop successfully connects to the internet via a wireless connection to the router, but the PC gets no internet love. It doesn't really make sense. Big Sis has already spent at least one evening of untold enjoyment on the phone to technical help, but even after following all their advice there is still no joy. I decide to tinker around with it, disabling and removing a few programs and changing some of the settings. Without success, I search online with my laptop for advice. After most of the morning has passed, it seems as though the only solution is going to be to reinstall Windows. I am swiftly losing the will for anything. I have realised that working with non-cooperative technology is one of the few things that fills me with tendencies towards violence. Seething with frustration, I start to burn my music and photo files to DVD so that I can delete them off the machine. Six discs and a few hours later I really have lost the will to do anything of any purpose. Big Sis and I watch some more trash TV and after several episodes of paternity tests, cheating partners and disloyal family members on Maury, we are both feeling somewhat depressed. My plans for a productive day have slipped away.

After a delicious but rather late lunch of veggie sausages with roasted potatoes and grilled tomatoes from our garden, I finish my laundry, watch a little more TV and then retreat upstairs. I call Sky to order a new remote and get all assertive when they try and tell me we'll have to pay nearly £20 for it. I nearly start twitching with irritation. Don't even try that with me today, I've been messing with the stupid internet you've provided for hours and I am more than capable in this mood of arguing for a few more hours why I shouldn't have to pay for a new remote. I make my feelings known in the politest possible way and luckily for everyone involved, I don't even have to bring out the big guns. I go to report the progress to Big Sis and Bro-in-Law and then retreat back upstairs. Feeling utterly bored with the activities of the day and lamenting the fact that I was awake, I got on my bed crossways and just laid there. I can't really recall closing my eyes, but I am awoken an hour or so later by Big Sis entering my room to ask if I want so noodles and eggs. I am dazed and confused, but accept the offer gratefully. 15 minutes later I am still trying to get my bearings when Big Sis shouts up to tell me the food is ready. I stumble downstairs and try to shake off the sleepy feeling. I say grace for the food with relative difficulty, finding it heard to piece together sentences through the fog in my mind. We tuck in while watching TV and Big Sis laughs at my dazed demeanour. I have my plate and tray balanced on the arm of the sofa while I eat. Somehow, midway through my meal, I knock the tray over and it sends half the liquid from the plate and some of the noodles down the inside of the sofa arm and the seat cushion. I look at it in despair in what feels like slow motion, while Big Sis exclaims at me. I mechanically go and get damp cloths to mop up the mess, which seemingly takes ages.

After wiping up the mess and stripping the dirtied sofa covers, I decide to sit on the floor and eat at the coffee table, Japanese-style, to avoid any further accidents. After eating, I hang out my freshly-washed bed sheets to dry and manage to knock a glass off the coffee table. I watch it fall off the table with the same sense of slow-motion as I did the plate of noodles and brace myself for impact. Inevitably, it smashes and I sigh with disdain at how unsuccessful this day has been. Big Sis shouts down to check on me and laughs when I explain unenthusiastically what has happened. I start picking up the pieces of glass while she brings a dustpan and brush. I clean up for the second time in less than an hour and decide it's best if I just stay in my room and make no more attempt to function like a regular human being. It has been a typical Monday and I wasn't even at work. This day has been a write-off.

Enforced Loneliness

I am on the verge of tears. I haven't felt this lonely in quite a while. The brief respite I had felt for not quite a month seems to be fading into a very foggy memory. I am slipping back into sadness. I know that I am probably hormonal and that maybe I'm tired and that in a few days I'll probably look back and laugh at my amateur dramatics, but right now I just don't see the point of anything. I am finding it hard to be positive and my sarcasm is back with a vengeance. I know that part of BFTP's problem is that he has and has had so many people that rely heavily on him, emotionally and otherwise. I know that what he needs right now is some me-time and that is a reasonable, warranted and much-deserved request. I know that the last thing he needs is the sense that there is someone else who needs him, another person who is relying on him, another person to make him obliged to be there for them and make him feel guilty if he can't or won't be. I don't want to be that kind of person. I'm not going to be. It's not like I'll contact him and chastise him for shutting me out. I don't even feel that way. But this feeling of frustration at not being able to get through to someone because they are actively avoiding contact with me, is all too familiar, and uncomfortably so. I find it hard not to feel hurt by it and it makes me feel incredibly lonely. I don't even really want him to know I feel this way, because I don't want him to feel guilty for doing what is currently best for him. I just can't help how I feel. I am reassuring myself with the thought that it's doubtful he'll read this any time soon, since he currently has no internet connection. Plus, I don't want to start censoring my thoughts just because he knows where to access them. I can't really help it if he decides to read this and consequently comes across something he doesn't like reading. The problem is that since I don't have the option of talking to him about this, my only real outlet is in writing about it here.

The New Boy

I browsed in Boots for a while, as I waited for the Mrs. and her new Boy to arrive. I got preoccupied looking at lipgloss and various random cosmetics, when I felt someone next to me say "Hello little one." I looked around and there she was, kitted out in the new boots that he had bought her the other day, adding another couple of inches to the six she already has on me. Her Boy was next to her, also tall but without the aid of heels and I suddenly felt even more of a munchkin than usual. "Hello," I said, looking up at them and smiling, "I had forgotten what tall people looked like. I feel like the shortest person in the world." We hugged and said our hellos and then we made our way out to go and get some food. They are a cute couple. They were affectionate and sweet together and I liked how comfortable they seemed with each other. I tried not to think about how much I already missed BFTP and tried not to feel like the gooseberry. But they didn't make me feel that way. The Mrs. and I went to order the food while her Mr. grabbed us a table. Once we had the food, we carried it outside and then swiftly decided against our original plan of al fresco dining, when half the napkins and the straws I had picked up blew away with a sudden gust of wind.

Back inside, we were lucky to get a corner booth and settled in to eat our meals. We talked about things and laughed, and they sang along to random tunes that played over the speaker system. I could feel that I wasn't sterling company; my mood had really dropped because of the situation with BFTP and although I enjoyed being with them, I was finding it hard to make conversation or get my mind off the things that were bothering me. We still had fun and the Mrs. asked me about the stuff that was happening and I did the same, although it was hard for her to give a completely honest account of things with her Boy sitting there. He was very laid back and I could feel there was a genuine fondness between them. I liked that. I felt comfortable in their company, just not so comfortable in my own. The Mrs. chastised her Mr. for stealing her use of the word 'munchkin,' which apparently she patented back in the 30s, prior to The Wizard of Oz. My munchkin status was a running joke throughout the day and for a while it felt like we were teenagers again, spending days out and about, without a care in the world. It was a short break from everything else that was going on.

The Boy went out to smoke a cigarette and I watched the Mrs. as her eyes followed him out and a smile played on her lips. "You love him," I teased. I smiled at how content they seem, even though based on her previous bad experiences she is convinced that things are going to go wrong, and is inclined to pre-empt any such result by breaking up with him, which he is well aware of. We talked about it until he came back and then went all quiet when he returned. He smiled at us and said "You can keep talking you know, I know what you're talking about." I tried to convince the Mrs. against any pre-emptive break-up and she chastised me jokingly for not taking her side. We talked some more and giggled away 3 hours before finally deciding to make moves, after her Boy had made several paper people chains out of the excess napkins I had snaffled and then made a 'sculpture' out of our used cups and straws. He took a quick snap of the Mrs. and me that will probably end up on my wall somewhere.

Before our respective journeys home, we went to make a quick bathroom break for a travel wee (lol), my complete lack of cash meaning I didn't even have the 30p required entrance fee. The Mrs. cobbled together some change in pity of my broke ass, but when we got to the turnstiles, we didn't have the right coins for me, so I somehow squeezed through the turnstile with her on her 30p. Apparently there are some advantages to being little. Afterwards, we meet outside to say our goodbyes. The Boy asks for a spare pen to do the daily sudoku from the paper on the train. I give the Mrs. a big hug and we express how great it was to see each other again. I hug her Boy and we say how nice it was to meet, even though for some reason I felt like I'd already met him. He tells me to take care and I assure them I won't fall down any cracks in the pavement on my way home. We laugh and go our separate ways. It has been a nice afternoon, but as soon as I am out of their company, I realise how alone I am starting to feel.

The Other Side

So, after my emotional epiphany of two days ago and what had seemed like a reasonable suggestion and a successful conversation subsequent to it, I have reverted somewhat back to black. After several attempts to contact BFTP without success or reply, I was quickly entering into panic mode that I had messed everything up by doing the 'right' thing. I had called a couple of times and sent a few text messages and got no response. I knew something was wrong. Even if he didn't want to talk and just needed some space, he would usually at least text me to tell me that. I tried not to get upset about it, or to think the worst in the way I usually would, but being ignored or purposely shut out is one of the things I dislike the most. My mind was working overtime and it took a lot of energy and effort to try and stem the feeling of anxiety that was gradually increasing as time went by without any answer.

When Thursday came and I had still heard nothing, I was starting to feel pretty low. The Mrs had called me the day before and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch at 1.00pm the next day. I confessed to being penniless, but she promised to treat me to a high-class meal of Maccy D's. Beggars can't be choosers. :o) I haven't seen her in what feels like way too long and I was also going to meet her new beau for the first time, so was really looking forward to it. However, my feeling of hanging in limbo with BFTP was very hard to shake off, despite my exciting lunch plans. They had plans in the morning and we ended up rescheduling till 2.00pm so that her Mr. could still come too. I spent the morning taking my time getting ready, had a nice soak in a hot bath and washed my hair, which came out looking nicer and less poodle-like than it has done since my Mum curled it up for me at the weekend. My skin is still looking shocking and so I probably over-did it with the cosmetics coverage, but I at least felt presentable once I'd finished.

I listened to lots of music and tried to push the feeling of dread to the back of my mind as I got dressed. I was still wondering about BFTP and was starting to get a little worried that something had happened to him. I debated back and forth whether I should try one last time and then decided to give it a final try. I sent a text asking him to just let me know he was OK. I understood if he needed some space, but I'd just appreciate him telling me so, then at least I'd know things were all right. I wasn't really expecting an immediate reply, but was desperately hoping for one. I checked the train times online and planned which one I would need to get to make it in good time. The Mrs. had told me her phone battery was nearly dead, so I wouldn't be able to call her if I was running late. "When have I ever been late?!" I asked incredulously, and we laughed as she said she would wait 20 minutes for me and no more. I was thankful for her generosity; I wasn't expecting more than 10 minutes' grace. Realising that I was under more pressure than usual to be there on time and determined not to live up to my tardy reputation, especially in front of her Mr., I realised I had dawdled a little too long getting ready. My mind was way too preoccupied with BFTP and I realised I was going to be late if I wasn't careful.

Suddenly, my phone alerted me to a message. A reply! BFTP informed me that his past 24 hours had been really hectic; aside from whatever had happened between us, there had been some sort of falling out between him, his mum and his sister. He had decided withdraw from everyone and deal with things on his own. I was grateful for the reply, but this new information just raised several more questions in my mind. I checked the time and realised I really was going to be late if I didn't get a move on. I got to the train station and made it in time for my train. BFTP and I had a text conversation throughout my train journey. I explained that I was still here for him and that while I understand the need to be alone, sometimes we really do need the moral support of others to help us get through things. I didn't want him to shut me out for my benefit if he actually needed me more than ever. I didn't like the thought of him dealing with everything by himself. He thought he was burdening me but I didn't want him to make that decision on my behalf. As we neared the final station, I realised that in my preoccupation with BFTP and my determination to be on time, I had forgotten we had decided to meet at 2.00pm. I was going to get there a little before 1.00pm. I had to laugh at my idiocy. Well, at least I was early for a change. I texted The Mrs. and said, "I'm running an hour late. Sorry. So kidding! Am going to be there in about 10 minutes. This goes on my record!"

My unprecedented earliness meant than I had 90 minutes to kill. I let BFTP know this in case he changed his mind and wanted to talk. Despite my best offers and efforts, he still declined. I tried to be understanding and assured him that the offer was always there when he was ready. I know how it feels to want to just withdraw from human company and get your head together, but I also know just how lonely that can feel and how it can also run the risk of worsening how you feel if you withdraw for too long. I was worried about him, frustrated that he was shutting me out and that I couldn't do anything to help, confused by the fact that he had given no indication of how long this hiatus might last, a little hurt that he didn't want to talk to me and a little sad because I missed him. I reassured him that he should do what he felt he needed and that I would still be here when he needed me. He thanked me for everything and hoped that God would continue to lead us to where we both needed to be. But it didn't stop me from feeling a horrible sense of emptiness, or from sensing flashbacks of times past. I had thought that I had done the right thing by hitting the brakes a little, and thought that we both understood what that meant. But as usual, there is always the other side of the story and the ripple effect that comes once your pebble of action has fallen into the pool of consequence.

I tried to shrug off the feeling and reassure myself that things would be cool, that this weird chasm that had opened up between us over the short space of 24 hours was just a temporary barrier, that would close back up once enough time had passed. But I just felt miserable. I didn't understand quite what had happened, or why once again, things seemed to have completely deteriorated within just one week.

Lighbulb Moment

I am feeling good today. Actually, perhaps I should rephrase that. I am feeling better than yesterday. The pain-induced hysteria has worn off slightly and I'm not feeling quite as miserable. I have, however, had an epiphany. My last wisdom tooth has been taking its sweet time to come through. It has been partially grown for a few years now, but its progress has been incredibly slow. I have been conscious that it has been having a little growth spurt this past weekend. My jaw has been aching and my gum has been sore and catching on my other teeth when I eat. I'm slow on the uptake, but I suspect that this annoying little tooth is the cause of my migraine. It makes sense. It is also a rather fitting metaphor for my slow and painful thought process along the path towards gaining more wisdom. It's a lesson I've been learning for as long as this tooth has been coming through. It's one that I never really got the message of, until I was hit with the painful reality of my own weaknesses. Like the migraine that had more or less left me incapacitated all weekend, the emotional shake-up I experienced at the same time left me a little numb and unable to function properly too.

BFTP texted me yesterday. He'd stayed at his sister's and left his phone at home by accident, so hadn't been able to answer when I'd called in the morning. He explained that he was getting ready for his eye appointment and was hoping that he would finally get the all-clear. I replied, but was perhaps a little bit bland in my response. I have subconsciously been starting to hold back, ever since he admitted to me that he is not over his ex. Later on, he admitted that he was a little taken aback by the lack of affection in my message.

I left work early. My migraine wasn't letting up. I had taken painkillers when I got to work and they helped, but after the usual four hours, their effect was wearing off and when I took another dose, I started to feel nauseous. I stayed at work as long as I could manage, but I couldn't face the journey home in the company of the usual hoards of commuters, so I left to try and get a head-start. In the evening, I texted BFTP to check he was OK. He told me that he would be home soon and that we could talk. I wasn't sure if he was saying that for my benefit and wondered whether us talking would really be a good idea. I was still feeling rough, was in a bad mood and although I desperately wanted to talk to him and wanted some comfort, I could feel that I was probably liable to lash out and thought that it might be best to just be alone in my misery. I didn't want him to feel obliged to talk to me and agreed we could talk, but only if he wanted to. He said he felt like he might be pressuring me and was aware that I often need time alone to think when I am reflecting on things and that although that might be hard, he would understand if that's what I needed.

We spoke a little later on. We talked about how things were between us and I admitted that I could feel my barriers going up again since our previous conversation. He told me that he had spoken to a close friend and mentor and that his take on the situation was that we were rushing things. If we carried on the way we seemed to be, then we could ruin what could potentially have been amazing. He said he wasn't sure how he felt about this observation, but that the opinion was there to accept or reject. Something inside of me clicked. Big Sis had mentioned to me a little while back that I shouldn't rush things and should just take things slowly and I had listened, but had pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I had thought that I was doing things differently this time, that I wasn't acting in auto mode like we have talked about, that I wasn't letting my natural reactions get the better of me. But it hit me: I have been kidding myself. I haven't risen above my usual tendencies. I've done exactly what I always do, thrown myself into a situation head-first and let my emotions run away with me. I had been so preoccupied with what I wanted, with finally having the kind of relationship I've been looking for, that I didn't stop to properly consider what was best for him, what he wanted and whether he was even ready for that.

What was I thinking? How could I possibly be surprised that he still has an emotional attachment to his ex? You can't get over an 8-year involvement with someone in 4 months. It's unrealistic and probably impossible. And if he could do that, it would probably make me question whether he really loved her and if he really understands what love is. It's normal that he is still dealing with that. I should know, I dealt with it myself. I suddenly felt incredibly selfish and rather stupid. I, of all people, should know that it is important to take sufficient time to deal with the tangled emotions that result from a complicated relationship. I, of all people, should know that rushing this healing process does nothing to speed it up, help it along or move it forward. It should, and will, take its natural course. Yes, me getting involved with NY Guy no doubt helped me to move on from The Ex. But I had already started that process on my own and was already moving in that direction without his influence. Having him in my life, aside from the fact that we had feelings for each other, helped me identify some of the issues that I needed to deal with and some of the attributes that I wanted to find in a potential partner. But it didn't remove any of the difficulties. In fact, that situation probably highlighted them even more and perhaps meant I had to deal with them sooner than I might have done otherwise. How on earth could I personally go through such a situation not so long ago myself and then forget just how difficult that can be? Why had I expected BFTP to just forget all about her, not have any issues or emotions to process and just fall in love with me overnight? And why did I even want that? What had I been thinking?!?!

I suddenly realised that the shock of knowing that he wasn't already in love with me and that he wasn't at quite the same point along this path as I was, was exactly what I needed. It was a wake-up call, a slap in the face to shake me out of the delusional bubble I had created for myself. Suddenly I realised that I needed to use what I have learned in my own experience to make sure that he has the same opportunity that I did to work through all those emotions. I may have got involved with another person relatively soon after my break-up with The Ex, but the very distance that made that new relationship hard, was probably what stopped me from getting even more hurt than I eventually did. Not one to hold back and love any less in a new relationship just because the old one hurt me, I went into it hard and fast and would have been tangled up just the same as I had been before, if the distance hadn't saved me from myself. Only after more than 2 years did I realise that what had initially seemed like the antithesis of what had gone before, was just a different kind of wrong. I never want to be the person that encourages BFTP to open his heart up again, to ignore any doubts and fall headlong into this, just because I think I'm ready for it, regardless of whether he is or not. I don't want to be the person who appears to be what he needs, because it initially seems to be so different to what he has experienced before, only for him to realise later on that I am just a different kind of wrong. I don't really think that is the case. I know that BFTP and I could have something incredibly special and could be what each other needs. But I have realised that I need to be incredibly careful what I wish for. I can't hope for his heart before I am absolutely sure that I know how to look after it. I can't want to be someone's girlfriend before I really know that is a role I can actually fulfil, without involving them in the issues I am still working through myself. I have waited this long, that a few extra months or even a year, should really be nothing in comparison.

As BFTP and I talked, these thoughts hadn't fully developed in the way I've just explained. But the basic lightbulb moment had occurred and I realised that I knew what the right thing to do is. We needed to put on the brakes and just rewind a little. Maybe rewinding wasn't a possibility, but we needed to at least press pause. I can feel my expectations rising and I could feel that I was starting to place the responsibility and the expectations I have of a boyfriend on to him, and unfairly so. He hasn't adopted that role, he hasn't even asked for it just yet, he's not even ready for it. And perhaps I am not really as ready for it as I think I am. Either way, to expect him to act in a way according to a label he hasn't even adopted, is completely unreasonable and unfair. I didn't even realise I was doing it. But I'm glad for the epiphany. I don't feel any differently about him than I did before. I still think he is amazing. I still think he is a wonderful person. I still think he could be a person I could potentially spend the rest of my life with. I still think of him as an incredibly special and close friend. I still feel all of those things. I have just realised that our potential needs more time than I was allowing it, to become a reality. We are probably not going to be in touch as much, or maybe just not as intensely, as we had been. But in the meantime, we are waiting for each other, knowing that when the time is exactly right, everything will fall into place the way we still believe that it can.

Mothers and Sympathy

I stayed at the rents' all weekend, while I nursed my migraine. My Mum, in her usual style typical of most nurses, had sympathy for perhaps a day. By Monday, when I was still finding it virtually impossible to shake off the drowsiness, Dad was starting to worry and suspected that I had caught his flu. Mum, however, came to chastise me for the fact that I was still in bed. I had got up mid-morning and eaten some breakfast, but decided to go back to bed to lie down after feeling unable to even sit upright. "How are you going to get an MA if you're sleeping all the time?" she asked, despite the fact that I am not currently taking an MA, am not planning to do so in the near future and don't really have a burning desire to do one generally. "I don't want to do an MA," I answered, feeling confused at this latest guilt-trip-slash-bizarre-motivation-tactic. "Why not?" she questioned. "It's a waste of money," I reasoned randomly, feeling extremely drowsy and thinking that my brain wasn't in the best shape to be formulating an argument that I could seemingly never win. "But it will benefit you in the long run." By now, any desire, however minute, to undertake a Master's degree for the sake of it was now virtually non-existent. My motivation to get out of bed had also depleted at record speed.

I already feel like a disappointment to my mother, even without her bizarre chastisements for the seeming correlation between my lack of achievements and my need to sleep. Aside from the fact that she keeps mentioning my age and the fact that at this age she was much further along in life, it doesn't take much at the moment to renew my latent feeling of disappointment, as well as my low sense of self-worth, lack of motivation and general feeling of pointlessness about my existence.

If I do an MA, can I go back to sleep please?

The Weakest Link

BFTP admitted to me that he still loves his ex. He doesn't understand when people say they love someone but are not in love with them. He doesn't see what the difference is. I do. As a result, I'm not exactly sure how to take this revelation. He doesn't want to be with her, but knowing that he still has feelings for her isn't really what I wanted to hear. It upsets me and I react rather strongly to the admission, feeling extremely hurt, confused and defensive. I suppose that it's better to know the truth than to carry on with a different impression, but that doesn't make it any easier to take. What is frustrating is that I don't even know whether any of my reactions are justified or 'allowed.' We haven't defined what we are to each other, we are not officially together and now who knows whether we are even heading in that direction. I thought that I could deal with us making our own rules, but I've realised that in some cases, I like definition. I like boundaries. I like knowing where I stand. I hate the idea that there is a get-out clause of "But we're not together," or "But you're not my girlfriend." I am frustrated that no matter what situation I seem to find myself in, the timing never seems to be quite right. I am bored of being patient. I am fed up of holding back. I should be an expert in delayed gratification by now.

I am starting to wonder if I really will end up alone. It seems like it might be easier. I'll buy a big house and live with the Mrs and Lolly and we'll keep each other company and talk about how things might have been if we'd been able to find men who could have made us happy.

Back in the real world, I am feeling rather stupid that I let my emotions get the better of me and allowed myself to get caught up in the notion that we could be something. Maybe we still could be, but I doubt that will happen any time soon. I know I shouldn't be so impatient. I know that people just need time in order to get over previous experiences and past relationships. I know that it has taken me some time to get over The Ex and maybe it won't ever go away completely. But that doesn't mean that I still love him or want to be with him, or even that I can't experience something new because those things have affected me. It has got me thinking and now I'm questioning everything I was certain about. Maybe I've been deluding myself into believing that I am over NY Guy? Maybe I've told myself that I'm over all of that because I want to be and because I wanted so badly to believe it that I made it happen. I do still care about him, but that's normal, isn't it? If I didn't at all, then that would speak volumes about the strength (or lack thereof) of my affection for him when we were together. But that doesn't mean that I want to be with him or even think of that as a possibility.

The Ex wasn't sure he wanted to be with me until recently, three years after breaking up with me. NY Guy always said he was sure, but that certainty never translated into enough action for me to believe him. BFTP's actions show affection, but his words don't always. I'm not sure which situation is easiest to deal with and which person's feelings are easiest to believe. I suppose that I should be happy that BFTP doesn't just tell me what he thinks I want to hear, whether he actually means it or not. I should be glad that he isn't luring me into a false sense of security, encouraging me to let down my defences, only to pull everything out from under me with the bombshell that he didn't really feel that way after all. I know that all of this is probably preferable to being given a false impression, but it doesn't make me feel any better. What I don't understand is why I can't just meet someone that I can see myself being with, who wants to be with me, is sure of that fact and makes that fact evident in both their words and their actions. I really don't know what more I need to do in relationships to win someone's heart enough for them to love me in the way that I need. I'm probably being selfish, unrealistic and impatient and maybe I need to take a long hard look at myself and assess why it is that I haven't found this. I'm feeling that my lack of achievements or contentment must surely be down to some glaring inadequacy in my own actions or attitudes. When it seems that patterns are continuing to repeat themselves in my life, the only common denominator I can see that links each situation is me. Maybe part of the problem is that in trying to identify the culprit for the things that aren't going as planned in my life, I've completely missed the fact that despite the other people who have played a part in how things have turned out, I am the person playing the largest role in all these situations. After pointing the finger for so long at other people, there comes a time when you finally see the three fingers pointing right back at you.

I am really looking forward to having some time off. Perhaps I should rephrase that. I really need some time off. I think I need to spend some time reflecting, getting my head together, sorting out my living space and generally trying to stay away from other people as much as possible. I don't think I should be trying to deal with others, when I hardly seem capable of coping with myself.

Four-Day Migraine

I have had the same migraine since Saturday. I am close to tears and am feeling utterly miserable. I have taken several doses of my usual painkillers, slept most of the long weekend away and still have this blasted pain. I haven't had a migraine like this in as long as I can remember, if ever. Aside from the throbbing, originating behind my right eye, I am feeling pre-menstrual, irritated, upset, rubbish about myself, a little anxious about the soon arrival of NY Guy and insecure about whatever the situation is between me and BFTP. I wish I could go to sleep and just wake up in 2010, migraine-free.

When I started on my anti-depressants, I anticipated that after the initial six months I would probably just continue taking them, as I couldn't imagine any of the things in my life that had been getting me down improving significantly enough for me to feel able to cope without the medication. Then, for a little while, things seemed much more positive and for the first time I could envision myself being in a much happier place in six months' time. That feeling has faded again. At the moment, I don't imagine much being that different in such a short space of time. I'm not feeling especially hopeful, or optimistic, or even excited about what is to come. I'm so bored of waiting, so bored of having to be patient, so bored of sticking with things until they get better. Right now, it doesn't seem like anything much has got better in the past year. Deep down, I know that's not really true, but there is nothing tangible, nothing significant, nothing of any real obvious merit that I could point to as evidence that things have got better.

For a while, I felt lighter, that some of the things that had been burdening me had been removed and there was a sense of relief about this. But since then, things have slowly slipped back into that familiar sense of discomfort and discontent. Am I any happier? Not really. Have I made any changes that have moved me a step closer, or at least turned me in the right direction, towards achieving my goals? Not really. I felt like I had made some positive changes, but now I have no idea what changes I really made and exactly what, if any, the positive impact has been. I know that I am feeling low again, that this monthly surge of hormones is probably playing a part in that and that having such frustrating pain for nearly four whole days also can't be helping. But I honestly can't find anything to lift my spirits today. It's sunny outside, I only have to be at work two days this week, I have the whole of next week off work, but I'm still unhappy. A tiny part of me almost wishes I was back where I was a year ago. Even if things were terrible, at least I knew what to expect. At least I knew that things were a bit pants. At least I wasn't expecting more from my situation, or thinking that things were loads better when in fact they really weren't. At least perhaps then I wasn't fooling myself. Or maybe I was. Maybe the past few months were just a distraction. Maybe they fooled me into thinking that things had improved, when in reality, nothing much had really changed. Just like this migraine, maybe it's better to just experience the pain and accept that it is there, rather than numb it temporarily, like with the painkillers I have taken over the weekend, knowing that underneath the short-lived numbness, the cause of the pain is still there.