Fairy lights, Facebook and theories


On Saturday night, I went to my sister’s best friend’s to have a few drinks and a catch up. Long story, but the other party goers dropped out for one reason or another.

She’s recently redesigned her garden and made a lovely fairy-light covered seating area and so we sat out there for most of the night, wrapping a blanket around us as we got cold and sipping rhubarb gin and lemonade.

Naturally, as the drinks flowed so did the stories.

We are both in similar circumstances: working, single mothers. She’s younger than me, but we are in the same decade. Just. 😁

As you would expect then, conversation led to men. We want one but we don’t. We want the companionship and the intimacy and the fun but not the negative baggage that goes with. We shared our hang ups, stemming from low self esteem.

I updated her on Lost Soul, she told me about her current seemingly Lost Soul clone. Strangely enough, he turns out to be someone who I went to high school with.

This led me to tell the tale of the boy who I fell in love with, head over heels, for the last two years of secondary school. I was obsessed. Love struck. Off my food… A friend had given me a picture of him which I had framed and put beside my bed. It went everywhere with me: I even took it to France when I went on my foreign exchange trip.

He was never my boyfriend though. We never kissed. Oh, he knew I liked him. He was exuberant and confident whilst I was shy and embarrassed. He’d put his arm around me and say hello and I’d go pink. I didn’t care though, those moments were the stuff of hours of replay as I lay in bed or daydreaming, and were recounted in fine detail in my journal.

He was never unpleasant to me, in fact was probably quite sweet about it, but he wasn’t interested. Even when I made him homemade toffee. My flirtation skills were not the best. 😁

Even if they were, he wouldn’t have wanted me. He was tall with dark brown/black hair, blue sparkling eyes and a perfect smile of white teeth with two little dimples. He was funny and confident and charismatic and charming. I was chubby and shy and socially awkward. And definitely not popular. I was a ‘nice’ girl. No one wants to be the ‘nice’ girl in school.

Move on in time and we are both in college. Only now I have a boyfriend, five years my senior. And he is handsome and charming. Well, he was at first – but that’s a different story. And so, without the pressure of wanting more, my teen crush and I became friends.

By the time we graduated, my boyfriend had shown his true colours and had dumped me, two weeks before the graduation ball. I enjoyed myself the best I could; danced, laughed and signed leaver’s books.

During the night, teen crush came up to me and asked if I had read what he had written. I had and was confused by it. He just smiled and walked away.

When I had first read it, I’d thought he had just phrased it wrong due to the fact he’d been drinking.

“To my first love..” Was I the first person to love him? How did he know that as I had never confessed my feelings although he was well aware of my attraction to him. It couldn’t mean…? No, I’d decided there and then. He’d never shown any interest in me other than friendship. Clearly it was a case of drunken poor expression.

But – and I hope you can see this – his coming back to me to question it made me think. For a moment, anyway. My low esteem dismissed it but parked it in my memory for safe keeping. (I spent the night drunk and crying over my absent ex.)

In the summer as I drove into the supermarket with my mum, I spotted teen crush walking and asked my mum to pull over. We chatted animatedly until I broke the news that I was back with my boyfriend. His face dropped, his tone changed and the conversation ended quickly.

Again for a fleeting moment a thought crossed my mind, fuelled by memory… But I brushed it off. In likelyhood, he was aware of how badly my boyfriend had treated me and was disappointed that I’d fallen for it again. Yes, that was it. But as everything was different now, it was no matter. My boyfriend and I were happy.

Years passed.

I married, had children, and once bumped into teen crush although now we were in our twenties. He had a trolley and a toddler. I had two children and a husband back home.

His greeting wasn’t as enthusiastic or as warm as mine and I was surprised but, hey, people change. We exchanged brief updates on our lives. He told me that had just come back from Australia but was planning to return. And that was that.

Skip to Saturday.

After telling my tale, my friend suggested I connect on Facebook with him, see what he’s up to.

No one knows I’m back on Facebook though. I actually hate it as a social medium in some ways, many that I’ve described on here. But recently, I’ve been ‘imaginative ‘ with my name – -middle name and maiden name–and haven’t added anyone I actually know. Instead I’ve joined groups of things I’m interested in. I’m happy with that for now.

However, she had piqued my curiousity. So I looked him up.

Imagine… Thunder bolts. Heart ache. Butterflies. And regret and jealousy and tears. Utterly ridiculous, but let me explain why.

I found him quickly enough. He actually still loves in the neighbouring town. He’s recently married, has two young children (don’t know what happened/who the other one was) and is GORGEOUS. As in PERFECT. As in, everything I think I want, from the quirky wedding outfit he wore, to the happy family photos he was part of.

Let me make this clear, I was incredulous about my own reaction to this. I looked him up to be nosy, thinking he was in Australia with his wife and child/ren. It was gutteral, involuntary and overwhelming.

You seex part of my problem is I have ‘a type’. A certain look that I always go for: he is it. Exactly.

Once I’d calmed, wiped the tears, remonstrated myself for my ridiculous reaction… I tried to work out WHY I had reacted in such a way.

Here’s my theory.

I think, because of the strength and longevity of my teen crush, my love for him… A part of that has carried with me through adulthood. I think that every clush on a clone has been a way of fulfilling that painful teen journey of unrequited love.

Of course, even if he was single now, it highly likely that he would not be interested. His personal trainer-black haired-blue eyed-tattooed-godbod would not be interested in me. He wasn’t 23 years ago.

Lost Soul is of the same aesthetic ilk as teen crush. Is that why I was obsessed when he treated me so badly? Why I kept pursuing the unobtainable?

It sounds ridiculous, right? But all I can say is it has taken me a week to write this post.

I need some therapy.

Thoughts, anyone?


And the scales from my eyes

Pedestal high,

You circled me.

Thunder and lightening emanating from my heart and my soul,

Tied to you,

Or so I thought.

Your touch was the sun, lighting my days,

Your words, the dark that destabilised me.

And then the scales fell from my eyes.

A deep breath of bravery,

A moment of honesty,

And the scales fell to show me the truth.

You’re a siren,

a player,

a liar.

An actor, caught up in your own

starring role,

Writing the screen play,

Manipulating your players.

I see through you now.

See through your words,

Your memories,

Your games.


As the scales fell,

they strengthened my heart.


that I was fooled by a forgery,

In love with an ideal;

You were not a reality.

There was no promise or potential,

No right or wrong time.

So now, clear of dreams and lies,

I see you for what you are because

The scales fell from my eyes.

She’s here.

That’s OK. I know,


I’ve accepted, and processed.

I’ve understood and readjusted.

So, why,

Why do you say things?

Things that should make me think?

“I still need you in my life.”.


“I thought it might be weird after what happened, her being here.”

It wasn’t and it isn’t.

I feel nothing.

A ghost of a memory.

A hint of a dream:

No reality.

No reality.

I feel nothing.

Weed of thought

Hate is a strong word. But I hate what you have done to me. I hate the power that I have willingly handed over to you, for too long.

I hate your need to dominate and the mind games you play. I hate your indecision and therefore, your lies.

I hate the weed of thought that has taken hold in my heart and mind, forever growing no matter how much I try to remove it.

I hate your shallowness and how it makes me feel. I hate the hope you inspire and the feelings you awaken. I hate the despair and the self-hatred you create.

I hate my weakness. But I abhorr yours.

Dear friends

Sorry, I couldn’t help that title. Admittedly, I’m not feeling the bitterness I felt when I mocked it those few weeks ago.

So, yes, this is a Lost Soul update.

Following those text messages, communications between us were understandably absent. Until I was told that he had gone in to hospital for major surgery on a long standing condition.

I couldn’t ignore that for lots of reasons. The main one being, the last time he was in hospital for the same thing was when my dad was dying. I visited him a few times when visiting my Dad and he always asked how he was, more concerned with Dad’s health and us than his own.

Later, when Dad had died, he visited straight away, still extremely ill himself and brought a bag of provisions to help. He also came to the funeral, still recovering. I can’t ignore that.

So, I text a few times in the week following his operation, asking how he was and congratulating him when he finally got the all clear and was able to go home. I don’t regret that. My thoughts and feelings were of general care and concern and if he wanted to believe it was for any other reason, well, more fool him. He has been home a week or so and I haven’t text since then.

Then, last night, I called my sister to see if the kids and I could go round to play with her eleven beautiful puppies. We could but then she told me Lost Soul was also on his way round there too.

I won’t lie. I felt a pang. A something indescribable and fleeting. But it was soon gone. We’d messaged, were back to being ‘dear friends’ and what’s more, he wasn’t going to stop me visiting my own sister. We were going to come into contact at some point so I may as well get it over and done with.

We arrived and it was fine. I asked how he was and then ignored him to snuggle puppies. He asked me what my weekend plans were and I told him. He offered me wine and I declined. We chatted and I acted like I should – like he was a friend of my sister’s whom I like. That’s all. Well done me.

My children chatted with him also and my son was particularly enthusiastic as they spoke about video games and the like. Then we left.

I will say it again: it was fine. Not easy, not what I once wanted and not how we once were but I rallied.

So imagine my surprise this evening when, as I was driving home from shopping with my children, the phone rang and my daughter told me it was him. He never rings (anymore, anyway). Before I could snap myself out of my surprise and tell her to not answer, she did. And put it on loud speaker.

I thought at first there must be something wrong, but there wasn’t and he stuttered something about calling back when I wasn’t driving.

My mind raced on the way home. I could tell my daughter was suspicious as we’d had a previous conversation about Lost Soul when she’d overheard a conversation about him so I changed the subject, checking myself if I felt that the tell tale giddiness I get over him started to show. How ridiculous that I could let myself behave that way again anyway!

As I got home, we unloaded the car and she asked me if I’d called back. I said no and carried on unpacking.

My mind was racing. Why would be be ringing? Thoughts whizzed round like a discs in a jukebox, desperately searching for a probable answer.

Maybe he’s thought differently now he’s seen me again. NOOOO! Maybe he needs help with something? Maybe he can’t get hold of my sister? Maybe he wants to come round? NOOOO! I couldn’t let myself fall back in to the same old – and incorrect – thought patterns.

And then it struck me. Whatever this was, it was some kind of olive branch. I’d reached out first after our ‘disagreement’, so why shouldn’t he be able to call me about anything normal? Sure, warning alarm bells were going off in my head but I found an opportunity and called him back.

I will sum up the conversation. Basically, he had called to offer my son some collectable game pieces that he was going to sell. He thought it would be a good way to encourage my son to not play on the xbox so much and he would be able to play the strategy game with him and my brother in law.

What the…? Add any word you want there.

According to him, the collectables are probably worth about £100. Why would he offer them to my son for nothing? Why would he do this? I thanked him, said I would ask my son the next day and let him know.

When I put the phone down, I considered the possibilities. Maybe he is looking for an easy sell, hoping I will offer to buy them from him? Well, I’m not going to. He shouldn’t offer them if he was hoping I would buy them and secondly, I’m not just going to lay out that sort of money on something I don’t even know my son will be interested in. If this ends up with my son enjoying this strategy game thing, then I will offer money at a later date. Not now.

That eventuality satisfied, I thought again.

I won’t allow myself to believe that he has manufactured this whole thing to spend time with me and my son. What I will consider though, is this is a guilty man, a man who knows he has hurt me, trying to prove to me that he’s a good guy. Not for any reason other than to show that he’s not as bad as he has behaved.

But I know that already. I was in love with this man, once considered him my soul mate (which I now feel he has disproved and which I’m trying very hard to convince myself that I’m not on both accounts). He isn’t a bad person, he’s just really messed up when it comes to relationships.

The reality of all of this is that I don’t believe a word of what he says. I can’t trust him with my heart and I can’t allow myself to believe that anything he says and does means that he feels more for me than ‘dear friends’. He had his chance, he didn’t want it. End of.

I don’t know if I’m going to mention anything to my son. I need to think about it. But if I do, it will be because I will believe that Lost Soul is doing something kind for my son, and nothing else. I’ve got some thinking to do.

Final thoughts…

On Lost Soul.

I can’t tell you that I won’t ever mention him again because I will. Maybe the next time that I see him, months from now or maybe I will reminisce about my time with him, good or bad. But for now, unless something new happens, I will not post about him after this. I think it is the best way to move on.

I survived my weekend. I coped. I was strong. OK, yes, I was really angry but I’m not angry now. I’m fine.

I will admit to one thing though.

Yesterday, I purposefully went to see my brother in law knowing there was a chance he would be there. That wasn’t why I went exactly, but it contributed to it.

I actually wanted to go so I could speak to my brother in law about the situation, as we have done before. I couldn’t get hold of him on the phone so I decided to call round. I even filled my car with things that needed to go back to my sister’s (I swear she thinks my house is an extension of her cupboard) which again, needed to be done but wasn’t my incentive to visit. As I was loading my car my son came home and wanted to come with me: all the better to add to the lie, but it somewhat lessened the strength of my purpose. I couldn’t talk about things with my son there, so why was I going?

We arrived and my son offered to knock on the door to see if my brother in law was in. I stayed in the car, heart pounding, questioning what the hell was I doing.

My son shouted that he could see someone/thing through the glass of the door and it became clear that it was my three year old nephew. The blinds twitched and I saw a face at the window. For a second, I thought it was Lost Soul – only when I entered the house did I realise that was not the case. The power of the imagination, eh?

We unloaded the bags into the house and had a brief chat. My brother in law said he was intending to visit today anyway so my nephew and my youngest could play and this suited me fine as it meant we would be able to talk. This finally ended my suspicion that Lost Soul was hiding in the house somewhere, waiting for me to leave. Pathetic I know, but I could have sworn it was him at the window and it took so long to open the door…

Just another way of how this situation has messed with my head.

My son safely upstairs in his room and the younger ones playing, the conversation began.

I relayed everything that had happened in the last week, from his comments, flirting and kiss last weekend, to the events of Saturday.

Give him his due, considering how close my brother in law is with Lost Soul, I can’t fault his loyalty to me. By the end of the conversation I felt reassured: there had been no occasions where I had instigated the flirting; Lost Soul always started it, did flirt, did say he was attracted to me and did say we had a connection; his ‘dear friend’ comment was ridiculous. And finally, that although we acknowledged that Lost Soul and I could have been good together, he was still playing the same games/didn’t know what he wanted etc etc.

My brother in law said he was proud of me: for putting myself out there and for calling Lost Soul out on his behaviour. He laughed at the ‘dear friends’ quote too, “what is he going on about?!”

I assured him that when Lost Soul and I came into contact again there would be no atmosphere from me. Mainly because I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking that I was heartbroken over him.

I don’t know what I am. I feel a kind of release in that I don’t need to wonder any more or regret what I haven’t said. I’ve been open and honest and – strong. Something I have not felt for some time. There is almost a freedom to the feeling.

Of course I am still questioning everything. How much I imagined or willed into being compared to how much he led me on and manipulated. How much he actually meant. How much I was influenced by my physical attraction to him, blinded by it.

I had a difficult evening with my daughter last night, which is a completely different story, but at one point she said that she hadn’t spoken to me about how she struggling because she knew how difficult I was finding things. “And then last Sunday you were so happy and then the next day you were sad again.”

I was so frustrated that he was the cause of both of those emotions. That his minor attentions could make me so happy and then so deflated when they ended. No person should have that much power over you, whether they do it intentionally or not.

Equally though, if this has all been complete nonsense, how would love feel with someone who actually does want to be with me? Someone who values and respects me, who I am attracted to and connected to. If I feel so strongly about this farce, then who knows how amazing the real thing will feel.


I’m OK. Honestly, I am. Surprisingly so, in fact.

Yesterday, anger won out really over other feelings. When I got home from visiting my sister and dropping my children at their dad’s house, I wrote the last few posts you may have read.

My younger sister – the one Lost Soul is friends with – called me to see how I was and asked me to go back to our sister’s house. I refused. I didn’t want to be around anyone in the mood I was in.

We talked about Lost Soul. She said she was surprised at what had happened as she didn’t realise I still felt that way. This gave me some comfort as for the past few years I have purposefully pulled back from him and just been the ‘dear friends’ (yes, I am bitter about that phrase!) he intermittently wants to be. And me too – he has been a good friend in lots of ways. Although, I have been a better friend to him, I think. Anyway, back to it.. I’ve pulled back. Everything that has happened romantically has come from him. I told her what he had said last weekend – that he’d promised her he ‘wouldn’t do this again’. She said she was surprised by that. In the past when all this started she said she had warned him not to hurt me. More recently, she’d actually told him to go for it if he wanted to. I don’t know about you, but this isnt sounding like just ‘dear friends’ to me. (I promise I will stop quoting that phrase soon but I’m getting a perverse sort of pleasure in quoting it bitterly at the moment)

I’m the end, after I ranted for some time about how he’d made me feel foolish and like I had imagined it all (she disagreed with me BTW) we both came to the conclusion that I now had the closure I wanted.

He said no, for whatever reason. If he did like me then there is clearly a reason why he wants me at arms length. I now need to respect that no matter what happens in the future. If we were just ‘dear friends’ (sorry) then do I really want to be around someone who continually plays with my feelings like that?

If he was being 100% honest yesterday and I have got it completely wrong then he really is not a nice person. Be it an ego trip for himself or a cruel game of entertainment or whatever, he has played with my feelings unnecessarily.

I wonder whether he realises how bad a picture he has painted of himself with the ‘dear friends’ stance. (last one, I promise)

I’m shamed and frightened by how much influence this situation has had on me. From my children noticing how much happier I was last weekend to other people noticing how ‘grey’ I went when I’d been away from him: but there is more.

With him back on the scene I had started caring more about myself and my appearance. Since this all started again, just before Christmas, I have walked more than ever and have lost weight which is now more noticeable in my appearance and how I feel. I love dancing and have often thought about how much I used to dance when I was younger – twice this week, when I’ve been alone, I’ve put my favourite music on and just danced. I’ve danced ballet-style to slow songs, stretching muscles that have long gone to sleep and moving in a way that made me feel calm and at one with the music. With more energetic songs I have been equally energetic, aiming to get my heart pumping and fat burning. I’ve encorporated other exercise moves too – squats and lunges, for example. Annoyingly, this has been due to him.

This doesn’t have to be a negative thing. This morning I made myself get up and dressed and took the dog for a two hour walk in the rain. This situation does nowhere near compare to the pain of losing my Dad but I’m damn well not going to let it pull me down either. If anything, I’m determined to get this weight off, get fitter and enjoy my life regardless of his rejection. And if the next time I see him I look amazing and feel confident to smack him in the face of what he has let go, then all the better. Revenge is a great motivator.

Fact is, I know this is not completely the end. It’s the end of my hopes, yes, as I will not let myself back in that situation again but I know that when I see him again in the future those feelings will still be there – for both of us. I don’t care what he says. I know him well enough to be confident in how he feels for me just as I am now confident that he does not want to be with me despite those feelings. No, the only way this will truly end is when one or both us finds someone else significant. I’ve been around him when he has been dating other women (which have all failed BTW) and he has still flirted with me. Neither one of us would have acted upon those feelings as we both feel strongly about monogamy but those feelings were still there – partly why I have always hoped that one day, the timing would be right.

At some point though, he will find the woman he will settle down with and maybe, if I am lucky, I will find who I have been searching for too. Only then will this truly end. What this weekend has done though has made me all the more determined to find it.

As my dad would say, ‘there’s a silver lining in every cloud.’ I just need to find a way to meet someone without the dreaded Internet dating. Wish me luck!

Thoughts at 5am

Before you ask, no I haven’t text him yet. But I will. Later.

Despite being so tired last night that I felt sick – it had been a long week – my mind raced as I went to sleep. Mainly about what I was going to say to him and how. Over and over it played in my mind, hardly ever with a good outcome. I can picture every rebuttal, every block. I’ve heard some of them before.

Eventually I fell asleep but it seemed like forever. Then my son woke me at 4am with a temperature. Calpol administered and he went back to bed. For me, the future conversation replay started in my head again. At 5.05am I gave up and I’ve come downstairs and made a pot of coffee.

Last night as I was reading before bed, my friend from Ireland text me. I let her in on the recent updates with Lost Soul including Mumslovelife’s advice, which unsurprisingly she completely agreed with:

Better to know and move on whatever direction that might be than be in permanent limbo land!!!! And getting more hurt by having your emotions tested each time you meet. 😔

You are far too gorgeous, kind, caring and funny to be somebody’s “maybe” or “temporary fancy”. Know what I mean?!”

So I now have steely resolve masking the fear. I will text him today and invite him round tonight. And if he can’t or won’t see me tonight, then the next time I see him and he starts with the flirting, hinting and suggesting, then I will say my piece. Either way, this conversation is going to happen and happen soon.

Update over for now. Catch up with you all later.

Just thoughts

She stood in arrogance: tall and slender but her hair in a messy pile on her head and headphones dangling from her ears. Her phone was held out at an angle from her body, almost daring someone to look at the screen as she held it out before her.

She showed no concern that the whole platform could hear her one sided conversation; rather she seemed to delight in sharing the drama of her life as she loudly professed her opinions, criticised an unknown subject and swore repeatedly. At one point she mentioned being a mother to six children and I was surprised: to me she looked barely in her twenties. However, I had only glanced at her and noticed her bad skin and aggressive stance, intrigued as she had openly complained about the person who though she should have her children taken from her.


The coat barely covered the pair of them but it didn’t matter. They sat, shoulder to shoulder, head to head, eyes closed. They looked content, at ease. Occasionally, one of them would open a sleepy eye for a moment, disturbed by a noise on the train: first him, then her. In their statue-like state, neither one would know that the other was awake, that moments before the other had also opened their eyes. I imagined that they weren’t married, probably had been together for a couple of years and then I tutted at myself. Just because my marriage hadn’t been like, doesn’t mean there’s wasn’t. One thing was for sure, they were very different to the older couple sat behind me, more concerned with the filling in their sandwiches or noisily eating crisps, than each other.


Her voice was high-pitched and a little shrill but not in an unpleasant way. She peered through her glasses, underneath the strands of grey hair that framed her face, the rest of her hair piled up on top of her head in a neat bun. Small and frail, she had endeared a nearby passenger who helped her disembark, carrying her luggage and wishing her well on her journey. As I stepped off the train after her, I noticed that she wore two pairs of trousers, the top pair calf length and allowing the thicker warmer pair to peep through at her ankles. I contemplated the independence of an old lady who was off on a journey in her 80’s, seemingly alone and frail.


And so my train journey today was spent people watching and thinking. So many different characters, embarking on a journey, embroiled in their own drama. I was going on a course for work: my drama was internal and raging in my head.

I now feel much calmer. It has taken a hot shower and a cup of tea to achieve this.

I came home in a state of nervous anticipation, my mind and heart racing, adrenaline coursing through me and nausea building in my stomach.

Mumslovelife’s comments on my post yesterday have really hit home. She is absolutely right (I could picture us sitting in a cafe together having this conversation if she lived closer, me nervously sipping coffee as she counselled me as good friends do). This on going situation with Lost Soul is not healthy for me. It has gone on far, far too long and I can’t go on like this. Everytime I think I’m finally getting over him, learning to live without him, he appears back in my life and reawakens the feelings I’ve fought so hard to subdue. I know I have never been truly honest with him out of fear of rejection or fear of scaring him away. The truth is, over the years, this has happened anyway. For two people who claim to feel such an infinity and connection with each other, we’ve done a great job of ripping this friendship apart. We’ve gone months of staying away from one another. You’d think when we were both in other relationships we would be confident in the solid boundaries of just-friendship that would have induced but instead we have stayed away.

I know, once and for all, I need to tell him the truth. (I’m feeling anxious again just thinking about it).

I need to tell him that I just want to be with him. What I feel is too complex to label – I just want to be with him. Whatever happens in the future, no matter how long or short this thing might be, I know my heart will always yearn for him until we’ve tried and succeeded or failed. I want to give him my heart, fully aware that at some point he may give it back. I just don’t want to regret never offering it to him.

He tells me he has changed, he has grown up. He tells me that he is attracted to me and that I understand him like no other. He often reminisces about the fun we have had in the past and compliments me regularly. This should not be as scary as it is. Perhaps if I felt less it wouldn’t be.

I feel excited, nervous and scared.

I know from past history that after a night of emotional and physical closeness, he often disappears (another way Mumslovelife was correct). This can be physically – I don’t see him for a while – or emotionally, he will pull away and start talking of a new girl he is interested in or even an old one he claims to still want. It’s often overdone and obvious. I can see how this is a way of protecting himself after he has shown his vulnerability to me, particularly when I have then refused him the physical intimacy he has asked for. Maybe the fact that he is often very inebriated when he asks for this, but admits that he wanted me much earlier in the evening, shows how little confidence he actually has around me. I know he does not have this lack of confidence with other girls whom I know he feels little for.

To combat this usual disappearance and to have this long overdue conversation, I need to facilitate another night with him. Which means I need to ask him to be with me. Without the others.

Tomorrow night is ideal: my kids are with their dad and I have no plans. It also will limit the torture of this nervous anticipation. I need to get this done. But its making me feel sick. I don’t want him to say no at just seeing me – that would be even more hard hitting than him rejecting my heart somehow. I’m not sure why. Perhaps rejecting me without even knowing the truth? It won’t matter if he says he has other plans or just that he doesn’t want to – it will feel the same. By trying to initiate this, am I just making it seem bigger than it is? Am I not better waiting for another opportunity to say all I feel and want? Part of me just kind of wants this feeling over with once and for all. The strong desire to be with him in conflict with the absolute fear of heartbreak is crippling me. I undstend myself better than ever now – this is why I have partially hidden my feelings from him for so long. It’s easier to live in ‘what if’ land and that’s not easy at all. I’ve hoped for years that he would be the strong one: one day he would make the move but he hasn’t. Or maybe he has in his own way but I haven’t realised. I don’t know. Could be that he has been waiting for me too. Or maybe he knows that we can never be together for whatever reason. I just need to know, don’t I?

So, at 7.50pm on a Friday night, I’m sat here trying to be brave and make myself text him. I’ll let you know what happens tomorrow.

Still thinking…

About ten minutes ago I received a text from Lost Soul thanking me for dropping off his things and ending with “I didn’t know you had been”.

Is that just to explain why he hadn’t text earlier? Or a comment that I hadn’t seen him when I dropped it off?

I of course hope it was the latter.

I replied that it was no problem but his dad looked busy and I didn’t want to disturb him.

Nothing since. And he’s read it. Bit of a full stop on the conversation, eh?

I should have asked about his car or his nephews or something. But I can’t send anything else now because too much time has passed. Trust him to also reply when I’d just said I need to meet someone else.

And this is it folks. This is what my head does with every text, look, comment, touch, embrace.. Silence.