Full circle

I had a strange moment on Thursday.


You see that hat in the picture above? I wore that hat on my first date with C, way back in 2007. Before we met he'd seen a photo of me wearing it and mocked it. In that 'I like you so I'm going to pull your pigtails' way that boys do. So of course I wore it when I went to meet him. Because girls secretly like it when boys we like mock us in that way.

After that November afternoon I couldn't find the hat. I was sad for it was my favourite hat. Over the course of our relationship I used to joke with C that he'd thrown it out, in a fit of hat envy. (I genuinely suspected he had hatnapped it though)

I looked everywhere for that hat. It was nowhere to be found. I moved on. There were other hats. But they never fulfilled me in quite the same way. My hat was lost. Somewhere along the way, in the midst of relationship worries and traumas, I lost myself too.

I found the hat on Thursday. It had fallen down the back of my chest of drawers. Seeing it gave me a strange feeling, it transported me back to a time when love was beginning to blossom. Before things got broken and confusing and crazy.

This is the photo that C saw of me, before we even met. I look like a completely different person. I barely recognise myself in this photograph. By the time our relationship ended I recognised myself even less.

It feels like everything's come full circle. I'm not lost any more. And neither is my hat.


This post was brought to you by the realisation that one year ago today was the last time C told me he loved me. It was also the first time he'd properly admitted it.

Life's a funny old game, isn't it?

Only in dreams

My insomnia has reared its ugly head.


I'd been sleeping like a baby for months. My past sleep problems had vanished into thin air and, although I wasn't quite getting the requisite eight hours (more like six), I was always fairly well rested.

Until last week.

For the last eight days I've been really struggling to get to sleep. When I do eventually manage it I've been having incredibly vivid dreams. Dreams so intense that they wake me up and cause my head to spin. The subject of the dreams? C. Always. Inevitably.

Sometimes the dreams are of normal every day situations. Sunday mornings spent entwined in the duvet, papers spread out between us, the smell of fresh coffee in the air. An arm around me. A stroke of the hand. A smile. Sunlight streaming into the room. Sometimes the dreams involve frightening situations or situations so bizarre as to leave me confused when I wake, wondering what is reality and what is dream.

I'm not sure where these dreams have come from. I'm not aware that I've been thinking and lamenting and wondering a particularly huge amount. Is it my subconscious telling me that something is missing? Telling me that I'm not as happy and content as I think I am? Or am I reading too much into it?

I don't know. I'd like it to stop though. It only makes things harder.

The Best of 2009: Day 5

Day 5: Best night out?

Remembering my best night out is bittersweet. Memories of how happy we were, how carefree, how daft, how utterly irresponsible. It was Valentines Day and I was on my to meet him for a coffee. Things were confusing, unsure and I was nervous. Half a bottle of gin and half a frozen pizza later and things were great again. Our Valentines feast followed by him teaching me how to use his decks. I was never very good but I wanted to learn. I wanted to feel what he felt, that same passion, that magic behind his eyes. I wanted to understand.

A house party followed. Cava, more gin, unmentionable things. Laughter, mockery, play fighting, fielding questions we didn't know how to answer about how he knew me. About who we were.

And so to the nightclub. Our favourite. The night aptly named 'Valentines Day Massacre'. Loud, pulsating music that reached into your very soul and forced you to dance. And dance we did, until the wee small (big?) hours, entwined in laughter, music and love too, though neither of us would admit it. Falling out into the street afterwards, a sweating mass of happiness, music still ringing in our ears.

Then home. More gin. Him on the decks. My own personal DJ. A post-night out routine that I miss so much. Keeping the party going until the sun rose and the room became filled with light. No sleep. More laughing. The next two days spent in a haze of wine, conversations about anything and everything and intense happiness.


Yeah, that was a pretty good night out.

Honesty is the best policy

I've been tagged for an Honest Scrap award by the lovely Jeni, thankyou! I'm supposed to share “10 Honest Things” about myself and then nominate some people whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me.

I'm always completely honest (too honest sometimes) on here anyway but there are a few things that have been bugging me recently, so what better opportunity than this to overshare once more...


10 Honest Things About Myself:

1) I have very strong emotional reactions to certain songs, tv shows and types of food, etc, that remind me of  times gone by. For example, I can no longer listen to 'Kingdom of Rust' by Doves, drink Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc, eat halloumi or watch Black Books without falling into a pit of sadness.

2) I'm terrified that my Dad's cancer won't go away. He finishes his chemotherapy next week and then he'll have 'the scan' in January. It fills me with such abject horror that I just don't think about what comes next. I'm not sure I've ever actually admitted that before.

3) I spend a lot of money on shoes and jewellery. A LOT. I like pretty things on my feet, round my neck and wrists and on my fingers. I'm also incredibly fussy about the jewellery I wear and would only trust one or two people in my life to actually buy any for me.

4) I'm more self conscious of my appearance than ever before. Although I'm two stone lighter than I was three years ago I feel fatter than ever before. Conversely though, I'm far more confident than I have been in years. Probably because I dress better, accessorise better, wear nicer make up and have nice hair (fact, I always get compliments on it).

5) I don't go a day without wondering where he is, how he is and whether he ever thinks of me. I am plagued by thoughts of what could have been and it hurts. I'm not sure that I'll ever stop hoping.

6) I feel conflicted at the moment. One half of me wants to pack up and jet off for a year of travelling next year. The other half of me wants to buy a house and put down roots. My mind changes between the two daily and I have no idea what to do.

7) I use humour as a defence mechanism. I am variously crude, loud and sarcastic but, more often than not, that's just a front.

8) I believe that wishes can come true. Although I'm not sure that I believe in a God as such, I believe that there is something up there looking down on us. I believe in a higher power and the concept of fate. I believe that if you are a good person and do the best you can then good things will come to you.

9) One of my favourite snacks (when I wasn't on a diet) is melted cheese. In a bowl. On its own. Different types of cheese cut into chunks and melted (hence the need for the diet). I am a dirty pig.

10) I love my job. I geniunely enjoy going into work most mornings and, although I have my bad days (who doesn't) I feel really lucky to work where I do, and with the people I work with. A year ago I was unemployed and at the lowest part of, probably, my whole life. It's a very different story 12 months on.


So, there you go.

I nominate Miss Smidge, Lainey, Lis and LizSara. All of them super supportive and encouraging, always.

2

I started to write an email to you yesterday. I got as far as one word... "Hello"

Then I realised that I didn't know what to say. That I didn't know how to say what I want to say. What I need to say. So I stopped. And I tried to close the email.

"Your message has not been sent. Discard your message?"

So I clicked OK.

As soon as I discarded it I wondered why I'd felt compelled to even try to write it. Why yesterday, of all the days in the last few months? And then I realised...

It would have been our two year anniversary. Two years since that first date. That lunchtime drink that turned into a mid-afternoon Italian meal that turned into gin and tonics that turned into me on the train, drunk on both happiness and Bombay Sapphire, tipsily texting my friend B to tell her all about the boy I'd just met, that turned into me getting home and writing an entry on Livejournal...

"I met a boy.

I kind of like him.

No, I really like him.

Let all hell break loose...."


Silly girl, I had no idea how true those words were!

Does one word even count as a message? Maybe I should have sent it. Maybe one word can say more than a thousand words. Maybe one word can be an olive branch.


Hello.

Lessons I have learnt...

 

I may be getting old but I will always wear ridiculous jewellery

Tomorrow I turn 28.


I cannot lie to you, this year has been one of the worst of my entire life. However, these days I prefer to focus on the good, look to the future and learn lessons from the bad things.

Lessons I have learnt during my 27th year on this planet...

• The only person who can truly make you happy is yourself. You are responsible for your own life, your own wellbeing, your own decisions and choices. If you can be happy with who you are, or even just with who you know you want to be, then good things will come your way. You have to be happy with yourself before someone else can add to that happiness. 
  

• Break ups suck. Truly, utterly, completely suck. But life goes on. Always. If things are meant to be then they will be. Whether days, weeks, months or years down the line. It's never too late to try again. Whether it's fate or something else, the things that are meant to happen will happen.
  

• Fresh fruit, vegetables, water, green tea and exercise are the key to my emotional and physical health. If I eat well and take care of my body then I feel fantastic. Happier, more in control, more capable and more enthusiastic.
  

• Cruel words are easily said but, sadly, not always easily taken back or forgotten. A moment of stupidity and a flash of anger can change things. If not forever, then for a good long while.
  

• Second chances (and third and fourth and fifth) are wonderful things and the capacity for forgiveness is one of the greatest assets a person can possess. I've never believed that a person should have only one or two chances at something. Who made that rule?
  

• I'm far more capable, and far stronger, than I ever realised. I've taken everything that the world has thrown at me this year and emerged brighter, more positive and, for the most part, happier than ever before.
  

• I actually like olives.
  

Despite all the things I've learnt and discovered about myself, I still really hope 28 is better than 27.

Here's to the next 365....

Crushing

I have odd taste in men.


The proof? I bring to you a list of my current celebrity crushes...


1) John Barrowman


What?! What the hell am I thinking? He is as gay as the day is long but I think he's sweet. Plus he has a dirty laugh. I'm a sucker for a dirty laugh (Alesha Dixon I'm looking at you). Alas, he's been with his (male) partner since 1991. I'm not holding out much hope.


2) Scott Mills


Again, as gay as the day is long. A theme seems to be developing. He's got a perma tan and comedy veneers yet still I find him attractive. It's possibly because he enjoys a glass or ten of wine as much as I do.


3) David Mitchell


I'm not sure if I fancy him more as David Mitchell or Mark Corrigan. I'd take either. C was full of 'Corriganisms' and I think that was one of the reasons I liked him so much. A bit neurotic, the product of a public school upbringing and full of quotes that I really should write down some day. "I'm thinking of going into town to buy a stylish weatherproof coat" was a particular highlight. Ironically, they did actually go to the same school, albeit a few years apart.


4) Dylan Moran


Yum. Just yum. Irish, scruffy, hilarious and with a penchant for wine. I definitely would.


So, what have we learnt? I like mildly alcoholic, neurotic, gay men.


No surprise there then.