Photographs

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).

Playlist

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.

Anggun

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.

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

Can't remember to forget you

Whoever wrote this song, genius.
Whoever came up with the tune; thank you for making what is a very sad, desperate situation into a super catchy, great pop song.

 I left a note on my bedpost
Said not to repeat yesterday's mistakes 
What I tend to do when it comes to you 
I see only the good, selective memory 

The way he makes me feel, 
gotta hold on me 
I've never met someone so different 
Oh here we go 
He's a part of me now, he's a part of me 
So where you go I follow, follow, follow 

I can't remember to forget you 
I keep forgetting I should let you go 
But when you look at me, the only memory, is us kissing in the moonlight 

I can't remember to forget you

And I don't think i'll be cutting off my hair anytime soon, even if it is the default heartbreak thing to do. Shakira- that hair!

I remember the first time you said 'love'.

'Why is he (Capt Kirk) climbing the mountain?- Because he's in love'

I asked you why kissing you feels so good- you tell me it's because we love each other. You tell me you knew I loved you well before I'd admit it to myself. And I came out and 'fessed up- yes, i love you, just a little bit. You said you love me too. You'd go on to say it more than once. Not just post-coital blissed out I love yous, but while we're walking hand in hand, riding on the back of a pick-up and when you've just woken up.

I apologised for falling in love. You tell me it's ok, it makes you feel less guilty about falling in love with me; because its not part of the plan.

In love or not, truth or not, you still rend my ventricles apart. Leaving you tonight was the hardest thing. It hurt so much when you told me you'll only meet me for coffee next week, when I offered to stay. You are being strong and principled while I would rather avoid the pain and plod along the way we were. You want to be my friend, but I want all of you; selfishly.

I say selfish because I cannot marry you- I can't be your missus and raise children with you. I don't know if I could live in a quiet country town. I don't know if I could deal with the associated religious guilt if I married you.

You know this and you are letting me go gently. Agreeing to be my friend and supporting me. Oh how it hurts,  as you hold me and I realise that there is no way for this to work. No real way our little love could be more than this.

When I asked if you wanted me to stay next week and you said no; my heart swelled and my throat expanded, the was an ache in my chest and tears. I stared at you looking for an answer. There was none so I kissed you. Again and again.

I was holding back tears on the way to the station. I didn't want to think this was the last time I'll walk holding your hand. My heart twisted in my chest, I kissed you as I leave. I forgot to put all my love in it because I was sad.

I'd love to kiss you again, just so I can put all my love in it.

False promises

I hereby promise to resist to the best of my ability Internet stalking, googling and thinking about his other women. The exes, the lost love, the dates, even the work colleagues he's so fond of.

I need to stop because it's a waste of time and it's acting like a crazy lady.
Who knew that I was that kind, eh?

I really need to give up. Concede. Back out with some semblance of pride intact.

In a moment of weakness, I think that if I tried hard enough I could beat her.
She is now the bogeyman, the enemy, the challenge to overcome.

I think of how I can show him how amazing, how dependable, how wonderful I am.

Liez, oh Liez, you cannot make people love you.

The people that love you, the ones that really do, don't love you because of what you do for them. They just do.

He doesn't. Doesn't mean he's a bad man. He just doesn't feel that way. And you have no control over it.

New resolution: add on.

I will henceforth document all fun stuff I do.
Even if it is mundane.

Backtrack for january.

Went to see American Hustle. Holding hands. When will the novelty end (im such a kid).
Went to see Carmen at Royal Opera House dressed in red. Less hand holding this time.
Went to see 12 Years a Slave with regular movie date and temporary lodger.

Wallowed in some minor heartbreak.
Went shopping in Norwich.

The universe continues to torture me

I was planning to go to Kew gardens tomorrow to save my wasted, disastrous week off.

I cannot bring myself to do go because one of their attractions is a kilometer long "Holly Walk" that was previously known as Lover's Lane.

The full moon is still out and I might possibly decide to raze the 130 year old holly bushes to the ground. It's not genus Ilex's fault, my anger towards them is only by association.

Even the object of my wrath is not really at fault. But jealousy is ugly, mindless and vicious.  

Why don't you love me

The rant:
"...I wonder, is this all one sided? Sigh. Too much bloody missing you..."

The response:
"...I'd happily hang out with you every week or two...."

I'm sorry, I've changed my mind. I know initially I was happy with this arrangement. A lover and a friend. But I'm human and my feelings got in the way. Im starting to fall for you and I know you are waiting for another woman.

You are ready to drop it all and run to her side. You lie quietly and wait for her to start dating again.

I'm a distraction. I sent you a text about how im falling for you and it hurts, it hurts because it feels like you dont want me; and you tell me im fun and energetic and you would happily hangout with me every couple of weeks?!

I've been pretty depressed since the text- the hints were there and I've known of the 'perfect woman' since Christmas but the text is the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm great fun and really good company- I bloody well know that; fuck being your entertainment, i want to you to bloody miss me back you dolt.

It hurts. Like bad heartburn and headache. The tears well up and the back of my nose is sore like I've had too much wasabi. It stings and smarts and oh my God what I'd give to kiss you because it will stop the hurt. Stop the hurt until you leave or mention some gorgeous, smart-alec woman you've gone on a 2nd date with (like the time you took that other bitch to my favorite restaurant).

I deserve it for being fat and ugly. I deserve it because I don't have witty comebacks, a smart-ass mouth or an IQ above 150. I drink too much and get depressed. I get awful waves of Schadenfreude (when 'perfect woman's' cat got sick, there was a sickening feeling of glee). I call people I've not met a bitch when their only sin is going out with you (it's not their fault at all. How would they know?) I deserve it because I don't care for politics and I don't understand feminist rhetoric.

Why don't you love me seems like a redundant question now. I know exactly why.
___________________________________________________________________

On to some good news:

I pass Part 2! On to the practical exams in the summer!

Thanks God for small mercies and saving graces.

It'll be sweater weather in Amman baby.

'Cause it's too cold
For you here and now
So let me hold
Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

I'll get over you when it gets warmer. 

Resolutions

The 5th of January is my day of Resolutions.

Career

1. Get MRCP by 2015.
2. 3 audits by July 2014
3. By August 2014 have a realistic list of alternative career plans to hospital medicine to pursue

Financial

1. Save 20% of basic monthly salary.
2. Not to dip into savings. Ever.
3. Buy a car in October 2014.

Family and relationships

1. Go home for Raya
2. Contact close friends at least monthly via telephone or email.
In the wise words of Baz Luhrman- the older you get, the more you need people who knew you when you were young.
3. Try and stay friends with Matt. If he'll have you and doesn't make you cry too much.
4. Once exams are done, get back into the dating scene

Personal development

1. Lose 2 kilos a month.
2. Read a non fiction book a month.
3. Climb a mountain.

"and dear God, I hope I'm not stuck with this one" Kate Nash, Foundations.

I read somewhere that 'you should blog like no one is reading'. Im sure no one is reading so I'll be honest & open here.

I know he's not in love with me.

And yet, here I am, thinking about him all the time- waiting, wishing, hoping that he'll realise that I'm better than a charming, big breasted, ginger genius with an IQ of 170. I wish he'd realise that for all the teasing I adore his silly hair and awkward ways.
Im a little bit smitten and pretty invested.
My poor little heart hurts (and I dont think my chest pain is purely gastritis).

I wish he would drop everything to see me like he would for her. 

I can get smarter, I can learn to be engaging....though I look terrible with red hair.  

And I know however hard he tried, he couldn't love me the way I need to be loved.


I need to be worshiped and adored.
Be crazy about me.
Be proud of me.
Think about me when you look at other women.
Spoil me rotten and then tell me off when I dont exercise.

Just fucking love me. It's not that hard.


Instead Im here, settling for this friends with benefits deal.
It's not fair to you to demand exclusivity when I know this isnt forever. 
You're older, you want to get married and you want babies- just not with me.  You tell me you are dating, searching for your future wife. 

You tell me this in bed, holding me. And I self flagellate by pretending im cool with all of it- tell me about her; is she pretty? Is she skinny? Why not her then? 
"You need to tell me early if you meet 'the one'. It's gonna be hard, quitting you" 
"Sometimes I wonder, am I not good enough for you?"
And I kiss you to stop me from saying any more stupid things and hold you tighter, trying to keep you here with me. 

We only talk about 'us' when Im drunk or half-asleep. That's the only time my control slips- I apologize every time it happens.

I keep blaming myself for being weak and letting feelings take over. I need to stay objective and enjoy this for what it is. Instead a part of me is tempted to run amok with my feelings and destroy this, whatever it is.

He still makes me happy. 



Daughter, Smother

I'm wasted, losing time
I'm a foolish, fragile spine
I want all that is not mine
I want him but we're not right

Christmas 2013

It was about small miracles, all types of love and patience.
Above all it's about blessings and good food.

Meet the Cthul-duck pheas-ridge.
Explanations will follow.

Thank you Matt for making this Christmas special. I think I might just love you a little bit.

No context

The exam is in 3 days.

Last night I went to London to accompany him to a gig- Dave Dobbin and Don McGlashan (2 famous New Zealand singer songwriters) at the Union Chapel. It's actually a functioning church with beautiful wooden ceilings- I've never been to a pop/rock gig in a church before. The music was catchy and enjoyable, music I'd drive to and buy for my dad.

He had forgotten he invited me but the person he invited forgot about the gig, so i was the last minute fill in. The back-up plan.

In the last half hour I have wanted to text or call. Just to say, "Hello. Please dont think of me as desperate. Please dont think I'm easy and crazy. I like you and im not sure if you like me, hence the level of insecurity. And I'm sorry I kept quiet when you told me those things; Im not sure if you noticed but I was a little aback and didnt know what to say. 'Thanks' would be too hollow, 'I know' would be overconfident. We play at being couple-y, but we're not. You kiss me in public, you hold my hand. We plan holidays. You've told me, more than once, I can leave when I want and you won't come after me. And I've told you, weeks ago, that quitting you is going to be hard. I think that every time I catch your scent. That mix of perfume, Ariel and you.


Dave Dobbin- Slice of Heaven



Don McGlashan- Queen of the Night

Things are going downhill again.

I'm struggling at work again. Just when it seems I get a handle on one thing, another thing rears its head.

Nobody died, nobody got hurt, yet.
It seems however I try to do my best, I fail. There is always that one blood result I miss, something I hadn't sorted out, an ECG not done or a blood sugar not checked.

And I am slow, unable to multitask.
Everyone frets and rushes around to get things done while I'm deliberate and slow, my brain 2 steps behind everyone's.
I need time think and ruminate, I need time for the cogs to creak and turn.
Why is my brain is so slow, why don't ideas, issues and facts snap into mind?
I dont understand how my brain thinks, how my neurons make those connections and why some things i recall so well and some things never stick. Why I cannot do mental math.

I keep telling myself I will get better.
It's now 4 years of working. Im still uncertain, I still feel stupid, I still feel uncapable of managing.
Everytime I change jobs I feel lost, uncertain and lacking necessary knowledge.

Some say it's imposter syndrome.  Im starting to doubt it's merely me feeling inadequate.

Then there is the rest of my life that is crumbling around my ears.

I'll be 29 in 3 months.
I've regained the 10 kilos i lost last year.
Im sleeping with (and developing an unhealthy attachment to) a man who cares for me (but not 'like that').
I am not happy and I feel like im running out of time to make something of my life.


Important decisions have to be made and yet, I dont want to make them because it means i will close on door and have to commit to something im not sure is the right path anyway.


Now the most important decision is whether or not to call in sick tomorrow or power through the day with 5 hours sleep.

I've decided that post exam I'll work on audits and get my assessments out of the way. I will work of brain boosting stuff; improving memory and quick thinking.
In the new year I will find a therapist and get help- my friends have stopped wanting to talk to me and I've become boring.