Thursday, April 17, 2014


Last night I was a dinner party hosted by one of the consultants at his lovely home.  Most of my colleagues at the same level were there; I felt awful the whole time.

Stories were shared by the others, people laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. I felt awkward and out-of-place. I didn’t have anything interesting to say, and even if I did I couldn’t get it in sideways because someone has a cooler story to tell.

I sat pretty much silent through dinner. Wine helped with me feeling less awful about the way the evening panning out, but it didn’t change the situation at all.

In the car on the way back they were talking about how the girls in the department were being hit on my some of the bosses. I have not had any experience of this. Either I’m oblivious to innuendo or more likely, im too unattractive and boring to be hit on.

The one advice Matt had for me was: Act confident. Don’t talk like he has other options and don’t fish for compliments.

I don’t like me.
I wouldn’t respect me.

So I have to change.
Change is painful and difficult and relentless.
Change is beautiful, it is progress.
It begins in the mind- as for execution, the devil is in the details.

It is the small changes that dictate the bigger picture. It’s the decision to get out of bed earlier, to hold up my head, speak louder, to take the time to think before I speak.

It’s not eating that chocolate, going for that run.

It’s holding myself to a better standard. To stop procrastinating.

To love myself enough to sacrifice small pleasures for lasting improvements.

It’s all in the mind.

I’ve been watching motivational videos and all of them advise that there is no break, it is continuous work and effort. What fuels it is the desire.

What I want is simple, to be:
-       Thin
-       Smart
-       Beautiful
-       Confident

Sunday, April 13, 2014

No such thing as perfect

"Who's the cute baby?"
"She mine...with my ex. She's 9 months"
"She's got your dimples and your ginger hair. Do you get to see her much?
"Not a much as I'd like to- her mother's not too keen"
"What a shame..."

Men and babies. Tall, bubble butt and dimply youngish man and his cute dimply cuddly baby. Recently divorced.

Oh trouble.........
I was surprised at how cool my reaction was. I wanted to scream- Whaaaatttt?!!!!!  I am not ready for a dalliance with a divorced man, what more one who has a child and in a difficult legal battle to have more time with her.

We had fun. Watched a random tv show and then messed about for hours. He's sweet, considerate and has the kookiest smile. 

The hickey was a complete accident- it does look like you were attacked by a vampire. I'm sorry! 

He's not texted or called. It's been 4 hours since I left.  Maybe it was a one -off thing and we'll never see each other again. 

Back to studying. Back to work. 

Monday, April 07, 2014

Sunday, April 06, 2014

You've got 6 more minutes

"You need the 14 right?"

"Yep- ah, there's one in 14 minutes"

"Hmm...what can we do in 14 minutes?" he said with a naughty gleam in his eye.

He's been stealing kisses at every intersection. He looks a little disappointed when I pull away to cross the street. We hold hands, fingers intertwined.

He's that perfect height where I can tuck comfortably under his chin though in my heeled shoes I still need to tip toe to kiss him. He leans down, a lot.

We're waiting at this bus stop. It's midnight and it's full. We stand a little away from the crowd- I look up at him, "so, what do you want to do in 14 minutes?"

He leans down and just touches his lips against mine. He places little kisses all over my lips- I can taste the single malt scotch he'd been sipping. I kiss him back, just that little greedier. It's very tasty scotch.

He pulls on my jacket, pulling me close. Our bodies are touching and he starts moving- leading me into a little dance right there at that bus stop. My hands on his shoulders, his around my waist- I rest my head on his chest. Another long kiss.

It feels like a long time. I pull away- "I bet I've just missed the bus- I wonder how many minutes to the next one." I lean back to try and see the board and someone at the bus stop shouts out, "you've got 6 more minutes".

Tuesday, February 25, 2014


I've deleted all but one pictures of him from my phone. There is such a finality to it.

Seeing him; us, and wondering why, why? Did i condemn it from the start by trying to be all cool; all fuck-buddy-friendly?

Granted, the are back-ups on my computer, but it will at least reduce the impulsitivity of trying to look at the photos.

 If someone could tell me how to back-up save texts then I'll delete his number and texts as well (eventually).


When I start getting better and not all my posts are about how my wretched broken heart is suffering etc I will compile a breakup playlist.

Im going to structure it around the 5 stages of grieving. Some of the music already on here is pretty good if i could say so myself.

Today my phone picked-out this gem: Nothing Better by the Postal Service.

I pretty much have thought (or occasionally said) every line Ben Gibbard sings, except for the last stanza.

Will someone please call a surgeon
Who can crack my ribs
And repair this broken heart
That you're deserting for better company?

And Matt even drew a graph on our first date. Later he told me I fell in love with him based on his theory of successful relationships that can be plotted on a 3-dimensional graph. Yes, my love for him is a position on a 3-dimensionaal graph:
x axis is attraction
y axis is comfort and
z axis is investment.

Which doesn't really work because I initially wasn't that attracted to him and wasn't comfortable with him as my true, silly, girlie self. I did however, invest.

Investment, in this model, could be replaced with time, as a linear thing to follow and plot the line of the relationship. Keep in mind however investment also factors in effort, money and feelings.

A good relationship has all 3 in abundance. He was attracted and I made him feel comfortable, but he was not invested.

My mistake.

I wished I knew this song existed that night he told me about Ida.
Say Something by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera.

They sing everything I wanted to say, needed to say.  Every.single.word is how I felt that sunday when I realised you could never and would never  love me.

And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye

I've not heard from you in days. If you don't want to see me or know how I am by this time tomorrow, then this is it. I'll mail your DVD and the holiday photos to you. I'll send you a postcard from Paris. You'll get something silly for your birthday.

Over and out.

Monday, February 24, 2014


I always loved Anggun- she epitomises Malay beauty; the bronzed skin, dark hair and an innate elegance. I love that she speaks french and dances like a dream.

Today I was running a blood gas I suddenly reminded of this song. Something from my youth.

I don't regret this, all these feelings I'm going through -it gives all the sad love songs context.

Maybe I will cut my hair and get red gel nail polish on my feet. Can't quite get a cat, though I should say hello to Jun.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

I spent the day crying at intervals

This heartbreak thing is EPIC.

The pain is visceral, my thoughts obsessional and irrational. Everything reminds me of him and by extension, how bad i feel.

I tell him this. He receives a constant narrative about my emotional state. Ours was never a conventional relationship; the end shouldn't be either.

This heartbreak thing is like the flu.

You fall ill, you're feverish, delirious, incapable of looking after yourself.

You rely on family and friends to look after you.

You can either take medication to make the symptoms better so you can get by or sweat the fever out. There is no cure for the flu (or for love). Your body will have to heal itself, the immune system fights the virus and then it learns; so it can protect itself from similar viruses in the future.

The heart needs to do the same. Heal and learn. No cure, just time and supportive measures.

Blur's No Distance Left to Run

It's over 
You don't need to tell me 
I hope you're with someone who makes you feel safe in your sleeping tonight 
I won't kill myself, trying to stay in your life 
I got no distance left to run 

When you see me 
Please turn your back and walk away
I don't want to see you cos i know the dreams that you keep
Is where we meet 
When your coming down, think of me here 
I got no distance left to run 

It's over, 
I knew it would end this way 
I hope you're with someone who makes you feel 
That this life is the life 
One who settles down, stays around 
Spends more time with you 
I got no distance left to run 

Coming home 
It's over 
no more

Tonight I write the hardest words

Today I spent the day missing you.

I missed the warmth of you in bed, lying next to you. The scent, the taste of your kisses. That simple joy of snuggling up to your body and putting my head against your shoulder.

I even miss you telling me off for lounging too long in bed and glaring at me as I fuss with my hair. I want to run potion 9 through your hair and mine- for your sake I hope you don't use gel in your hair again, that's why I left my little tube of potion 9 there.

I find myself looking at our photos- I couldn't bring myself to hate you, even when you find it so easy to dismiss me to the ranks of women you've let go. Granted, I gave you fodder for that; but that's who I am and I was tired of sparing you the worse of me. I gave you a glimpse of my demons and a lot of my love- and yet it feels all wasted.

You had slept with her in January.
You said because the both of you were drunk and horny.

Well at least you were honest. 

(on a side note GU ramekins make for fine ashtrays- desperate times, eh?)

It breaks my bloody heart that you didn't spare a thought for me.
I want to ask you if I ever crossed your mind as you were kissing her, fucking her.

In my anger I want to curse you, hit you and hurt you in some way. I want you to feel some of this.
No, I want you to feel all of this.
Feel inadequate, weak and shamed.

Please don't spare me. When I ask you about her it's so I can learn to hate you. So I can forget the sad simpering woman I became when I thought you could love me.

I cannot believe that I had even hoped we could have a life together- a home filled with books, films and my dodgy taste in art. I occasionally wondered what our kids would look like- my smile and your eyes; little halfies who would be confused because their mother believed in God and Heaven while their father did not.

I feel like such an idiot- trying to give you a wonderful Christmas, sacrificing sleep and pissing off well meaning friends to make you happy. Just because making you happy gave me such joy.
That's what love means to me; that feeling of joy and bliss when you were with me, when you were happy.

Love is sacrifice and compromise- you weren't willing to do that for me.
I wished I had the strength to not believe you when you said you loved me.
You weren't lying, you just don't understand what it meant to love someone.

You must've slept with her while I was busy at work, thinking of you, planning our holiday. While I fought the urge to text you and tell you how much I missed you; you would've been texting, calling her.

Why, why, why?
Just tell me she's beautiful, well-read and perfect. Let me think I've lost to a better woman.

Because now I'm wondering what I've done wrong, where have I slipped up?
Is it because I believe in God, my culturally diverse background and that I occasional mis-pronounce things? Does it scare you my mother wears the hijab, I feel alienated from my father and my brother will break the fingers of any man who hurts me?
Or is it because I wear too much make-up, eat too much and get excited about everything?
Do you fear my emotions; my giddy highs and my dark depression?
I notice your unease when I jokingly say I'm jealous; but you know I'm not joking and that I have good reason to be- I knew you were going to fuck her even before you did. Maybe I drove you to do it.

And yet I tried. I kept loving and hoping because that's the only thing I know how to do.

Now I have to learn to hate.

Hate must be my wall, my reminder that you do not love me, you do not know how.
You cannot love me not through any inadequacy of mine, but because you do not want to suffer for my sake.

You said it yourself, I cannot be the judge of your tendency for dramatic gestures for you are capable of them at work and in long term relationships. You've told me how Emma pushed you into months of insomnia and anxiety and how you were anxiously waiting for Holly to start dating again. These women have done nothing for you and yet, I stir no feelings except for camaraderie?
Fuck that.

So hate I must.

Will you stay with me my love?
For another day...
Cause I don't want to be alone,
When I'm in this state.
Will you stay with me my love?
Till we're old and grey.
I don't wanna be alone.
When these bones decay...

This was what happened the weekend after our trip.

Against all good advice I went to see him yesterday. Initially it was lunch that became a shopping trip and became night in with ribs and Hot Fuzz.

Lying my head against his back in bed-I asked, I stupidly asked; if he had slept with anyone else. When he said yes, my heart caught in my throat.

One I knew about; they had been long distance friends for years and when he went back home they met- he told me about her and I was cool with it, she had seen him first, technically she had first dibs.

The other woman I had my suspicions about. Months ago he told me that he had gone on a second date with her and he had brought her to my favourite restaurant, one I had been telling him we should go to together. I was pissed off that he didn't went there with someone else;  maybe a part of me knew he would go on to sleep with her and that's why I was so angry.

When he's said, 'I slept with Ida', my heart broke. And then my good sense started shouting at me.
I felt betrayed. Made into the fool. Felt used, felt sooo stupid for putting my heart on the line, trusting this man; thinking he might think this is special too.

Logic stood fast. This was never a relationship, I never had any claim on the man. He owes you nothing- not loyalty, not love, not monogamy.

He tells me he was very drunk and it was the one time. I had to ask, 'was it in this bed?' It wasn't. He tells me it didn't work out between them because they had nothing in common.

We've got nothing in common either.

If I had any pride and self respect I would have gotten dressed and left. Walked away, run somewhere, anywhere until I felt less shame and pain.

When he first mentioned her months ago I told him, 'you need to tell me early if you meet someone. It's going to be hard to quit you. Don't tell me about the dates, but if you sleep with someone please tell me.'

I knew that if I had left last night he would not come after me. That's why I didn't go. I'm trying to hold on to some semblance of pride and self respect but love has me on my knees.

I'm his for as long as he wants me.

The worst part of this whole revelation was that I made him cry. It's the second time. The first time I saw his tears was after I made him tell me about Holly. He had told me how amazing she was- his face animated, so enamored. The next morning, I asked him, 'am I not good enough for you?' and for some reason I saw tears in his eyes.

Last night, when I couldn't stand it anymore and had to turn away, bury my head in the pillows-I heard him sobbing.

Throw me in the landfill 
Don't think about the consequences 
Throw me in the dirt pit 
Don't think about the choices that you make 
Throw me in the water 
Don't think about the splash
I will create 
Leave me at the altar 
Knowing all the things you just escaped 

Push me out to sea 
On a little boat that you made out of the evergreen 
That you helped your father cut away 
Leave me on the tracks 
To wait until the morning train arrives 
Don't you dare look back 
Walk away, catch up with the sunrise 

This is torturous 
Electricity between both of us 
And this is dangerous 
'cause I want you so much 
But I hate your guts 
I hate you 

So leave me in the cold 
Wait until the snow covers me up 
So I cannot move 
So I'm just embedded in the frost 
Then leave me in the rain 
Wait until my clothes cling to my frame 
Wipe away your tear stains 
Thought you said you didn't feel pain