Trip 4: day 4 …😔

It’s 5am. I did it again.

I’m finding this hard to write, pausing before every word because I don’t know how to explain. My feelings are undecided, confused. I don’t understand myself.

I don’t know where to start.

I will be succinct and factual. That’s something new for me, isn’t it?

I was angry with him. I lost my temper. OK.. so why?

He came home at lunch and everything was fine after the previous night’s hiccup. We spent the day on the sofa. He watched a national football game. We played a game of draughts. He watched a series on his phone and played his football computer game. Later, I asked if we could watch a film together and he said we could, in the evening. But when that time came, he said he was too tired and we would do it Sunday.

I got a quick kiss and a goodnight and he went to bed. I was disappointed and angry. I sent him a sarcastic message.

He didn’t see it. I then heard the music from his game and I lost it. I stormed out the bedroom, stood at the end of his bed, glared, and stomped back.

He followed.

I was angry. I said that I wasn’t his wife, I was his girlfriend and he needed to make an effort. Ouch. He replied that they are the same thing, aren’t they? I said: “I’m your wife when you put a ring on my finger.” Ouch. (I would still want an effort if we were married though, surely? I’ve been down that road.)

He was genuinely confounded. He laughed at first as we rolled off what he had done that day. But he had absolutely no idea what we could have done instead. He was confused and surprised.

Problem is, neither could I. This is why I am confused. This is why I am writing this at 5am to work it out.

Did I feel happy? Yes. He spent most of the day on the sofa with me, his feet in my lap. I enjoyed when we played the game and when we took 10 minutes to take a walk on his rooftop. I would take this over not being with him any day.

Was I frustrated? Yes. I’ve come a long way, spent a lot of money, to be sat on a couch watching him play a football game on his phone. I felt like I had made all the effort. Throughout the day, I sent pictures of him on his phone (with humorous but clearly frustrated captions) and at one point danced around the room to get his attention.

Did I enjoy the day? Yes. Did I want more? Yes.

Does effort = feelings? In my head, at that moment in time it certainly seems to.

He told me, there and then, “I don’t show my feelings.”

So, let’s unpick that right now.

I undoubtedly show and tell my feelings probably too much. Losing my dad taught me the importance of telling those you love how you feel as often as the feeling hits you. He shows his feelings, of course he does. But he is very guarded and I feel like there is a whole well of emotion hidden that I don’t comprehend. So, if he doesn’t or can’t spell it out for me, my over-imaginative brain makes up its own mind. As I’m anxious and afraid, it’s often negative.

He’d told me that he hadn’t wanted to cuddle and kiss in bed with me because it always leads to sex and he didn’t feel like having sex (you can imagine how my self esteem dealt with that one at first!) because he was tired and ill.

He’d told me that he hadn’t felt well all day (which I should have known, apparently) and that he had said we could watch a film on Sunday before my flight home. He said we had spent all afternoon and evening together on the sofa (true) so what did I want? What did I want to do?

What did I want…

Alone time. Holding hands. Cuddles. Kisses. Not worrying about his parents walking in. Being unguarded. It didn’t have to be sex. So that’s intimacy, overt signs of love.

What feelings did this situation trigger?

I associate low effort with low interest. My ex husband didn’t try, took me for granted. I eventually walked away. Alongside that, I believe that if we are not making an effort he will get bored and find someone else.

I don’t need taking out BUT if we had gone for a walk (it was raining) or a coffee, I would have felt special. If we had watched a film, it would have felt special because we were doing it together and his attention would have been on me, weirdly. We would have been alone in his room.

My self esteem states that if he doesn’t make an effort, he isn’t interested because he doesn’t tell me otherwise.

So….although I’m not usually bothered about material things or being taken out, when there is no other evidence (like him telling me) I have no other choice but to associate an engagement, a date, a gift, an activity, physical intimacy to his feelings.

Is that it? Is that the problem?

The argument ended with his frustration and my fear that I’d caused another row. I didn’t understand my own behaviour. Why was I arguing about something that deep down I wasn’t actually bothered about? I genuinely don’t care about going out if he doesn’t want to. Material objects are worthless without the thought behind them. I now realise, on some levels, that it is true. I do believe that, even if I seem like I am contradicting myself. I wasn’t bothered. I enjoyed sitting on the sofa with him, his feet on my lap or getting warm between my thighs. I enjoyed him winking at me when he caught me looking. But, as I have to use his actions to understand the depth of his feelings, perhaps I by extension am looking for the substantial always fearful that we are not.

He sat on the edge of the bed frustrated and said he didn’t understand me. Eventually he lay down, his arm draped over his eyes. I was knelt between his legs and rested my head on his lap, gazing into the distance and trying to figure what the hell was going on in my head. It raced from explanation to excuse, trying to understand that rush of anger over something so silly.

With my head on his lap, I kept apologising and telling him to go to bed. He didn’t and said nothing.

After a few moments he sat up and ran his hands up and down my arms. He then planted soft, soft kisses on my lips and cheeks. The kisses became more passionate. He half lifted me and twisted me towards the bed.

“Is this what you want?”

I told him that I had been happy with the kisses and that I knew he didn’t want to have sex so it was fine, we didn’t have to.

We made love instead.


Sometimes my emotions come out of nowhere. Don’t get me wrong, I have a vague awareness of them. They dance about at the edge of my consciousness: teasing, hinting then disappearing temporarily with my metaphorical flick of disdain.

So when they do return, they return stronger than ever. My emotions and I may run the dance a few times before they explode into my vision, refusing to be subdued any longer.

I have known this about myself ever since my breakdown. My highly skilled counsellor made me see this – how dampening them down for so long just prolongs the inevitable .

I have learnt a little since then. I’ve learnt that I need time alone sometimes. In these moments, I may allow an emotion to float to the surface. I may even write about it on here a little. My technique is nowhere near perfected though. That is a definite.

All this information isn’t new. And it kind of depresses me (excuse the pun) that at 41, I still haven’t figured it all out. Is that what life is?

Tonight I had two realisations that may help my journey of helping myself.

I have talked of my eldest son previously: he has ADHD and is likely to have autism too although this is still being investigated.  Over the years, I have learned his triggers and have become better at understanding and managing them.

What I’ve never realised, is that I have my own too. Odd, as I have also written that I suspect that I have something too.

Tonight’s trigger resulted in another emotion filled dialogue with Wild Card. It’s not an argument.  But it’s not nice either.

In hindsight,  I realised the following:

  • There’s an external trigger.
  • I mull over it in my head
  • I try not to – try to be positive, ignore it
  • I fail and it turns in to either a spontaneous outburst or
  • He notices I’m mulling and makes me tell him
  • I tell him the surface issue
  • He doesn’t react how I want him to
  • The floodgates open – defences come down, and all sorts of buried thoughts and emotions erupt
  • He talks me down
  • I think that he is better off without me/I’m ruining our relationship
  • He calms me and eventually tell me what I needed to hear
  • I ponder and realise he was right all along

Of course, I wonder why he can’t tell me what I want to hear straight away. Cut out the middle man. Go straight to the soothing part.

I love everything about him. Yes, sometimes I wish he was a little more forthcoming. But I wouldn’t change him. Who he is now, is who I love. What I think I wish for says more about me than him.

And one of the things I love about him is the way he makes me think differently. Yes, it’s tough. He just to wade through emotions and preconditioned thoughts and ideas…but eventually he gets there. And when he does, something in my head shifts, just a little.

He tells me what I need to hear.

Truth is, I realise that I do indeed have triggers. Now I need to learn how to self soothe them. Deal with them. Not push them away, because then they grow stronger – from a two headed monster to a multi headed monster.

The second realisation, which again was pretty obvious now I know it, is that I try to self soothe with food.

The food numbs my brain, just a little. Some attention is siphoned off my problem and onto the food. The saltiness of the tortilla chips. The sweetness of the chocolate. My brain goes into an involuntary tug of war between problem and taste sensations. The more my problem wins, the more I cram into my mouth to balance it.

Then, one of two things happens.

A tsunami of binge-created guilt hits me. Success! My problem is now forgotten in the complete self loathing that is dominating my every thought. It’s a week trodden path of working out how much I’ve blown it, hating myself for doing it…etc etc.

The other is that I eat to the point of fullness or sickness. Once again, bingo! My physical feelings overpower anything else in my head. This is a pretty nasty one because it is a two hitter- the guilt surely follows the physical feeling.

Therefore, my realisation is that I eat to feel not to numb.

Now, I need to find out what to do about it

Day 12 – thinking and honesty

Is thinking dangerous? Would I be happier if my thoughts were as simple as the life I led?

Or do we miss something by living in the moment? Do we fail to see the bigger picture, the rest of the puzzle, whilst we scrutinise the one piece, engrossed in all its colours and intricacies?

Now for honesty. At least to myself. You may have worked this out days ago.

I came here for many reasons. To escape my life and problems at home. To see my boyfriend after 16 months. And to confirm my future.

I’d hoped, that this second longer trip would clear the uncertainty, either way. Please do not assume that I excepted hearts and roses. I expected a frank and honest conversation. I expected to discuss issues and make a decision on how, and if, to proceed. I wasn’t expecting a proposal but I was expecting a discussion about its possibility.

Part of the difficulty comes from our different cultures, and the modern fluidity of his. On the one hand, me being there at all with him and his family is a sign of the seriousness of our relationship. He has said as much himself over the months. Whilst we have tried to be respectful, his parents must be aware that he sneaks in and out of my room morning and night. They leave us alone, albeit briefly, when they shop. They’ve seen him rest his legs in my lap, him tickle me, heard his playful slaps on my bottom. They’ve seen our glances and smiles and playful looks.

On the other, the fact I am there at all and they know these things show the modernity of their thinking. Are they accepting of the seriousness of our relationship or are they modern enough to accept that it might not be the case?

If Wildcard was of a different nationality or even religion, me being here after nearly two years together would mean less. I expect a serious discussion because of his culture.

For whatever reason, he can’t tell me the extent of how he feels. I know he loves me. I know he cares for me. But I don’t know how much. I sometimes think he is scared to admit his feelings. I sometimes wonder if his feelings are as deep as I would like.

Whilst his lack of in-depth discussion worries me, I am comforted by his touches and kisses and concern. Today, when he came home from work he was unwell. I sat with him as normal until it was clear he was asleep. I started writing this post and, realising I too was sleepy left him to rest whilst I retired to his room. Half an hour later he arrived. He shut the blinds, took off his shirt and legs entangled, we fell asleep together.

Putting his culture aside, surely by now he would know if he wants to be with me? And if he didn’t, given the opportunities our long-distance-covid-affected relationship has given, he could have moved on quite easily and painlessly. He hasn’t though. He has dealt with my fear and my tears and disappointments and he has stuck around. He has asked for nothing.

And yet, he has given nothing either. No insight into his heart or his feelings.

So maybe I have to accept that this man loves me, but not enough.

Patience and understanding

My mood is very much like the weather at the moment. Beautiful blue sky meet dark clouds.

I’m terms of the amount of contact yesterday, Wild Card called me as normal (apart from the late call in the morning). Our videochats lasted as long as normal. He however, is still not.

I think to myself: he would not call and stay on the phone unless he wanted to see me and be with me. He has no need to prolong this relationship if unhappy. There is no shortage of women interested in him. I try to stay positive and jovial even. Whatever his problem is, I don’t want to add to it anymore. He said I’ve done nothing wrong and it isn’t me, so I have to believe him.

Last night’s last call was a little more typical. He actually cracked some jokes and made me laugh for a while. I actually felt quite emotional… Like he was coming back to me.

But the affection is still missing from his calls. I don’t know if he’s just not feeling it, or he’s trying to prove a point. (And irrational brain wonders if he has met someone else or he’s trying to pull away but we are ignoring irrational brain at the moment.)

In the end, who knows? Only him. There’s nothing I can do but trust he will tell me if I have annoyed him, which he usually does, and try to be supportive and positive.

Last night I tried to research Ramadan and its effects a little more and there is evidence that it affects mood and behaviour. He’s definitely not his cheery self but as he is still making contact, I have to believe that is what it is.

Today he has called as normal – on the way to work and on the way home and as he shopped. Parts of our conversation almost felt like normal. I also spoke to his mother again – he would not have me in the car with her, or speaking to her, if he was pulling away from our relationship.

So, patience, understanding and logical thinking is the order of the day.

My worst enemy is…

Definitely myself. Or my errant, spontaneous and often negative, thoughts.

I had an hour long chat yesterday morning with Wild Card before I went shopping. I actually enjoyed shopping for once… Mainly because I discovered I have now dropped three dress sizes. Yes three. So shopping became pleasurable, particularly as I was buying clothes for my trip to see Wild Card which is now less than two weeks away…

I spent the afternoon with my friend, of course dissecting the situation with him. She’s supportive, honest, and not overly negative. She asked more about my thoughts for the future and I just told her that I am enjoying this one step at a time. And I’ve been telling my head that ever since. Can I cope with years of this? What if he doesn’t like me when I get there? Nerves, anticipation, paranoia… Just focus on one step at a time.

Back to being my own worst enemy…

I got home late afternoon and as I hadn’t heard from him all day, sent a message. An hour and a half later there had been no response. I don’t have to say any more do I? My head was jumping to its own conclusions as usual. But, thinking about my recent training, I tried thinking logically and sensibly… He always calls back. He never misses. He has his own life – maybe he was just busy. I’ve missed his texts before! And he’s told me to call when I want… So, I did.

And of course, everything was fine. He was out in the city with his family. His brother was getting his hair cut, so Wild Card took me on a little walk so I could see the surroundings. He kept asking me what I thought. As he got back to the car, he told me he would call me later.

Fifteen minutes later he was calling again, this time showing me a shopping precinct. It was amazing to see it and made me even more excited for my visit. In some ways it clarified my expectations too.

So, my stupid head thought the worst and in return he was as attentive and thoughtful as ever, showing me his world and wanting my opinion on it. He didn’t need to do any of that.

That should be enough, shouldn’t it? How many times does he need to prove those negative thoughts wrong? But oh no, my over active imagination decided to start again today…

I had my usual ‘good morning’ text. So far so good. I got home and the clock steadily worked its way to six and so the anticipation started to build, as usual. My kids are home, so of course their needs come first, so I work to get everything done before he calls. At half six, I sit down and I hadn’t heard anything… And then I heard the familiar ping of my phone.

Butterflies dancing in my stomach, I opened messenger to see that he has sent me a video. I waited, rather impatiently, for it to download.

It was an Ed Sheeran video of ‘Perfect’, with the lyrics in both his first language and English. I think it might be one of the most romantic things he’s done and my heart just swelled. (Read the lyrics and you’ll know what I mean.)

But was he being romantic or was he just sending me a song he liked? If I assume he was being romantic and he wasn’t, it will be really awkward. How to answer… I send a kiss face and said ‘I love that song’. Neutral, I thought.

Ten minutes later… No response. How the hell can he send that and then not respond or even read my message?

Oh. He had sent 45 minutes before it had finally downloaded. Grrrr.

Nothing for it but to call him…. And he’s on the phone.

To who? Obviously another woman. He’s probably sent it to all of us and she responded first. I actually stopped myself at this point. What on earth was I doing? He’s just sent something really romantic and I’m being negative. Again. So I reasoned with myself. He’s told you that he would not sit at home on the phone with another woman when his parents know about me. It’s probably his brother or his friend or something. He will call back.

Which he did. But when I answered, he wasn’t at home. He was out for a walk. Which meant he could have been on the phone to another woman. What the hell is wrong with me?! We spoke very briefly but it was hard to hear so he said he would call me when he got home.

So when he called back he knew instantly, instantly, there was something wrong. Even though I’d given myself a stern telling off for jumping to conclusions. But he knew. It didn’t matter how much I smiled and said I was fine, he kept asking. He said he knew me and I wasn’t acting the same. Did I not like the music he sent me? At this point I had even asked him if he sent it to be romantic. He replied that he loved me and thought about me all the time and he liked the song and found it in our languages… Did I not want him to be romantic? He asked if it was work, my family, had he done something to upset me… He even mentioned the fact he had been on the phone but I did such a good job of saying ‘what?!’ that he changed the subject and kept questioning me. Yeah, because you realised you were not at home… He even pulled the… ‘if you love me and want me, you need to tell me what’s wrong’ tactic.

Sure, I’m going to tell you that I became insanely jealous and paranoid when you’ve done nothing more than be on the phone when I called.

Luckily, for me, at this point my youngest came in to the room and dominated the conversation for a while. And yes, Wild Card is brilliant with him. Swoon.

The conversation ended not long after that as my son needed to go to bed and Wild Card had overheard his Dad in the next room saying something about a bereavement. He blew kisses at me and told me to not be sad. I told him I wasn’t, but clearly I hadn’t convinced him.

What is wrong with me? Really, I mean what is wrong? The facts speak for themselves. I’ve got to stop jumping to conclusions and stick with the facts. I keep hoping that a week with him, confirming that we both feel the same and I will stop worrying so much.

But. My own worst enemy isn’t so sure I can manage a worry free existence.

The brakes are failing

I’m trying very, very hard to pause. I promise you I am. Promise.

The problem is, they’re not making it easy for me. At. All.

Wild Card is just… Dreamy. I don’t know what else to say. Since Christmas, he’s taken to calling me on his lunch, on his way home from work and then at night. And I eagerly anticipate every single call. Pathetic, hey?

New Year’s Eve was the only time where our chats were more brief. He called on his lunch but then I didn’t get any contact when he finished work. He then called on his way out. I was with my family, he was on the way to his. It was short but sweet. Sure, it quelled the pangs for the rest of the night but I missed him. He messaged me after midnight and said we would speak the next day.

I will admit, I used all my feminine wiles yesterday. It was New Year’s Day so I had an excuse to get dressed up and look nice but I was very conscious that he was going to call and I was planning to use the occasion as an excuse…

My hair was still quite wavy and styled from the night before. I added a little more eyeliner than usual but more in shaping my eyes rather than thickening the line. I put a neutral lipstick on. Then there was that top.

You know which one I mean. The one you always feel good in and wish you had an excuse to wear more often. Mine is a black, slightly glittery, deep V neck and V backed jumper. It dips just the right amount, slides slightly off my shoulders and fits and skims perfectly over my body. I knew what I was doing when I put it on.

Luckily for me, he called just as I had finished getting ready and was in the middle of making a morning coffee. His reaction to my appearance was exactly as I would have hoped. He said how beautiful I looked and he loved my hair and my eyes…

In fact, he was really affectionate throughout the conversation and again at night when he called once my family had gone home. And let’s just say, we’ve both discovered that facial expression where you look at each other and know you’re thinking (or wishing) for the same thing. So hot. Yup, brakes are failing big time.

This evening’s conversation was equally lovely. We talked about my work, my daughters’ up and coming exams and his surprise that I am painting my living room tomorrow. He found that very amusing and said he wants to watch. He then listed all my ‘skills’ and asked me what else I could do. We sang together, him putting on a silly voice, and we had the usual laughing and giggling on my part. And then it got a bit serious, just out of the blue.

He asked why I liked him, his face straight and sincere. He asked about my thoughts on the future (although he didn’t say that word and it took me a while to understand), is this what I wanted? He then said, ‘I just want you to be happy. Whatever you want, me or not, I want you to be happy’. Woah.

I told him that he made me happy, and that I was happy with the way things were but I was looking forward to meeting him in six weeks time. I then asked if he was happy with the situation and he said he was. He checked I was OK and not upset (admittedly the rapid change in conversation had altered my smile to a concern, as I wondered where this was coming from) before telling me to think of him as he left to get his dinner.

What can I say to that? It appears he has moments of insecurity as much as I do. And, I think his brakes are failing as much as mine are. We both know this might not work. We’ve acknowledged that when we meet we may feel differently. But I sense that both of us are feeling things, the more that time goes on.

You’ve got to take risks in life and he is a risk I’m willing to take. There’s still six weeks left, still time for things to change. End, even. But I hope from the bottom of my heart they don’t. I want to meet him. And even if, when we meet, there’s no romance or no promise of a future together, I still know that I will enjoy his company and the adventure it will be.

I don’t know if you noticed but I said, ‘they’re not making it easy for me.’

This morning, I had resolved to cut ties with Second. I didn’t know how I was to do it, but I feel more and more that meeting him in just over two weeks time isn’t right. Even though part of me still wants to.

So, of course, because I’d made that decision, he somehow becomes Mr Attentive. I got a phonecall this morning and then a prolonged text chat this evening. It felt like it was back to normal again.

I like the man. I enjoy talking to him. I wonder what might have been and think about when he was my focus and Wild Card was just my distraction – my flirtation – to keep me and my newly-resurrected feelings grounded. Oh how things have changed.

I don’t want to hedge my bets anymore. It’s feeling more and more dishonest.

Damn you, faulty brakes and unleashed feelings.

Is it me?

Written yesterday:

I’m trying to understand myself right now, and I’m struggling.

I’ve had contact from Wild Card today. A very, very brief video chat before he had to go out and then, as promised, messages later in the afternoon.

It isn’t enough today. Today I am craving his face and his voice and his laughter. And of course, because I’m not getting it, I’m starting to get anxious. Again. I cut the video chat short yesterday when he called, and he messaged me both in the early evening and in response to my very late night message.

What more do I want from him?!

I’m being needy and clingy and I need to snap out of it.

He is contacting me/we are in contact every day, often more than once. It’s just that over the last few days, video chats have been shorter. My renewed low self esteem is clinging on to that. My imagination has worked out exactly what’s going on and me being hurt is figuring quite highly.


The morning after:

As I was writing this, he called. Again it was brief but at least he called.

I was appeased for a little while but spent the afternoon second guessing myself.

I think it’s pretty clear I like this man and probably more than is wise.

Later he text me asking how I was.

And then in the evening, he initiated video chat again, again only briefly, but to show me he was with his family and his visiting sister in law.

I questioned why he couldn’t speak to me when he was with them, even though I sort of knew the answer – ‘respect’.

Culturally, we are different, and it feels almost clandestine when he does this – like he’s secretly initiating me into a new world.

I don’t dislike that though. There’s something sweet about him trying to include me whilst respecting his own family and culture.

His effect on me in palpable: my body feels it when he’s not around. That is a dangerous situation to be in.

Is it just because I’m physically attracted to him? Craving intimacy, love and affection? Is it my ego needing the boost he gives me every time he calls? I’m addicted to that feeling now.

That’s my romantic self. The one who wants the fairytale. Don’t be mistaken, the independent sensible side of me is still very cautious and wary. I guess part of my internal turmoil is that I want that part of me to be wrong. As yet, it is unknown.

So yes, in answer to the question, it definitely is me.

Double trouble

I will admit it. I got myself into a right state yesterday.

By early evening I had barely heard from Wild Card. There had been one short message hours early, then nothing again.

I want to blame hormones, I really do, and in part they are to blame. I was over sensitive, emotional…

But when it got to dinner time and he had still not got into contact, I was anxious. Upset. I couldn’t eat. Still couldn’t concentrate.

I drafted a post on here, more as self therapy than anything else. I tried to look at the lessons I could learn from this. I couldn’t deal with the why, doubt still clouding my judgement. I’m normally good at reading people.

As I sat in front of the fire, music playing and feeling utterly sorry for myself, I decided to phone him myself. I would know then, once and for all. His uncharacteristic silence/sporadic texting would be explained either way and I could go cry into my pillow. (Yes, you read right 😔)

With my heart hammering in my chest, I pressed call. And waited and waited.

And just as I was beginning to lose hope, he answered.

He was clearly tired, half asleep, lights dimmed. He told me he had been travelling today for work and that he had missed me.

We had another great chat, filled with laughter and flirting. And there was no mistaking how he felt about me, I could see it in his eyes. There was a vulnerability about him at one point which was really cute.

Satisfied and sated that he had not disappeared and that there was an actual, genuine reason for his silence today, the video chat ended positively.

Within half an hour, Second had finished his shift and had messaged me.

Strangely, our text chat felt a little different also. I told you that he was guarded in his feelings usually, but since our ‘serious’ chat the other day he has been using terms of endearment and is more complimentary.

Again we laughed together, making each other laugh, and talked about what would happen when we meet. He finally asked me if I was seeing other people. I said no, which is true in a physical sense. I have still not been on any dates. I’m not talking to anyone other than him and Wild Card.

He sent me a photo of himself, taken right there and then, and I swooned. Best picture he had sent me. It was animated, happiness in his eyes, and was like our one and only video chat all those weeks ago. Wow.

What the hell am I doing? What am I going to do?

I realise that I do feel slightly different about them. Second makes me feel more secure even though a relationship with him would be more complicated than with Wild Card.

Wild Card makes me feel passionate. And there’s no doubt that I was grieving yesterday when I thought he had gone.

Double trouble. And I’m starting to feel like a double bitch. Again.

Thoughts anyone? Please be gentle with me.

Glum musings

I feel so meh today. It’s my first day back in work and I’ve not had a bad day as such but I’m missing my freedom. Just like the rest of the working population I suppose. 😩. Are there people out there who genuinely enjoy their job and look forward to going in?

Silly question as I once enjoyed going into work. Not anymore. I’m not sure what the root of this is as such – changes in education, dissatisfaction in my role, bereavement, complacency – probably all of them.

I’m tired too which is never a good start to the working week. All self inflicted but I enjoyed myself.

No contact from Lost Soul today but I wasn’t expecting it. Hoping for it, slightly, but not surprised when I didn’t. I’ve been here before, remember? So many times.

I think that was part of the problem on Saturday night. I’ve been there before. I didn’t believe it. I can’t allow myself to believe and have hope. I have to see through it all and see it as an emotional whim. If it’s not, surely we’d be together?

And that’s it. If two people are attracted to one another, enjoy each other’s company, understand and support each other, inspire each other… And are free to be together, well then why wouldn’t they be?

Or is it that I just want to be proved right? That I want to validate my opinions on love after the disappointment of an unhappy marriage?

What’s worse is that I know he likes me too. Would it be different if I let myself go? Allowed myself to show him how I feel? When I’m with him, I’m emphasising the friend-me and hiding the in-love me. I don’t know how to be the ‘in between’ with him.

I don’t know how to finish this post. I’m going round in circles.