Witch

Those fingers in my hair
That sly come hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's witchcraft

And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do

'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft
And although, I know, it's strictly taboo

When you arouse the need in me
My heart says yes indeed in me
Proceed with what your leading me to

It's such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn't switch
'Cause there's no nicer witch than you

Subhuman

Went to the show tonight.  Thought she might have been there.  Nope.


Wanted her to be there?  Yep.


In the morning, I have to go and look after the kittens again.  Until Sunday.  God knows how I am going to cope.


I still feel sick after leaving yesterday.  That's not normal, is it?  Missing someone so much you feel you may throw up at any moment.


I just want to hear from her.  Just a "hey, how's things?"


Still waiting for that one though.

On Sherlock, Movies, and Napping

Today was the first day we have spent all day in the house together.  Well, not all day, we bought £20 worth of junk food at Morrison's, before heading home to cotch on the sofa and watch the last episode of the first season of Sherlock, and "Godsend" (a somewhat boring De Niro movie).  We then had a nap, before her friend came over for an evening in.


It was a really, truly nice day.  Properly relaxed, spending time together.  I loved every minute of it.  I ended up having to literally tear myself away, as I could've quite happily sat there all night chatting and laughing with the two of them.

Shortly before I left, I told her she had beautiful eyes.  Not normally considered an "out there" thing to say, but was it a step too far?  She mumbled something about them not being anything special and walked away.

As soon as I left the house I felt physically sick.  I hate leaving her behind, to go and sleep elsewhere.  I hate knowing she is closing the door behind me.




She means the world to me.

Just one of the things I'll miss

Your beautiful, big, brown eyes.

I've got your picture on my wall.

I don't understand the difference between loving someone and being in love with them.  Maybe it's just a guy thing?  Surely, love is all you need?


What do we have to lose if we try again?  At least we would definitely know it's not meant to be.  Why throw something away if it could be fixed?  I really do think we can fix this.  I miss you so much.

I really do.

I felt awful for Saturday, but we ended up having a nice evening.  You could have just asked me to leave once I was awake, but you didn't.

If you really are stuck for making your mind up, then why not give it a shot?  If it doesn't work out, so be it.  It pains me to write that, but I need to say it.  I can't go on like this forever, not knowing, but I dread not being with you so much that I am willing to wait.

We said before that we need to sort our lives out, and right now, having you back is what I need to sort my life out.  I would be happy and confident again.  I might even see something worth looking at in the mirror when I brush my teeth in the morning, instead of a useless shell.

I am so scared I will never get to wake up to see you sleeping peacefully next to me ever again.

This is just getting worse.

I am the most depressed I think I have ever been.  I just want to crawl away and hide in a very dark place.  No-one would miss me.  Not really.  They would all just go on with their lives as normal.

Your decision is worth waiting for, whichever it may be, because then I'll know you've actually thought about it and not made a snap decision.  Don't get me wrong.  If you do end this (which, I admit, you probably will) I will be completely and utterly annihilated.  I will be stuck where I am.

I can see no way forward from where I am now.  This place I am in, I cannot see my life progressing from here.  I'll be stuck in a dead end job, earning fuck all, and not being able to buy the things I want, not being able to save any money for the future and not being able to do the things I want.  I can see myself always being someones house mate.  Why would it be any different?  I don't feel special, I definitely do not feel like I'm worth anything, or even good at anything.  Why would anyone take any notice of me and think "that guy needs a chance, I'll give him one"

What is the fucking point.

A Trio kind of day.

It's been a long day living with this
It's been a long time since I felt so sick


I've got some bad ideas involving you and me
I don't blame you for walking away


This bed is too big to sleep in, and I'm dying just to feel you breathe
You couldn't see across the ocean, but I was turning over 'till the vampires sleep
So dream a good one tonight
I'll listen to the bad ones when they come


It's about time that you got sick of me
No longer fun, and so far from interesting


I lost all train of thought as your eyes met mine
Told you I thought you were gorgeous
You gave me your phone number, I gave you mine
Before you left I said that you can bet i'll be bothering you soon
You said, "no bother, please do." I've called you twice
It's been a hellish fight to not think about you all the time. sitting around waiting for your call
I wanna wake up naked next to you, kissing the curve in your clavicle

Sweet 16

I'm trying my utmost not to think about what was happening 16 months ago to this very moment.  I've never really given it thought until now.


Which makes me feel worse.


I suppose it's more prominent for two reasons:


1) The current situation.  Is... well, frustrating to be honest.  I don't know what's going on.  I hope we are just taking it very slow.  I just want something to happen, that shows me that progress is being made.  I don't want to move back in straight away.  That would be awful.  I don't think either of us could cope with that.  


2) Babysitting kittens.  This means that it is the first time in almost a year I am sleeping in the room I went back to 16 months ago after that wonderful evening.  I didn't get back till gone 4 in the morning.  Birds were singing.  I had a lecture the next day and I didn't even care.

When things go bump in the night

There it is again.  The butterflies.  The not knowing what's going to happen next.


I've just got in from a late night of playing computer games with her.  Killing zombies no less.  I sucked hard.  That doesn't matter though.  The game is fun and any time I spend with her is treasured.  It's quality time.  Doing things we both enjoy, talking about... well, just talking about stuff really.  Nothing in particular.  I love every minute of it.


She said that she had to sleep on her own tonight and didn't want to, after getting a bit freaked out by zombie hordes and Witches and being vomited on by Boomers.  I said she didn't have to, and the offer was very kindly declined.  Definitely for the best.  No doubt about that.  Part of me wanted her to accept though, I cannot deny that.


And then the goodnight.  The cuddle, followed by the gentle kiss on the forehead.  It gets me every time.


The spark.  The uneasy, but enjoyable, somersault your stomach makes when something special happens.  Followed by the happy butterflies that, for the briefest of moments, light up my life and make me feel like the only person in her world.


I sincerely hope she felt the same.




Sweet Dreams.




I'm pretty sure I'm going to have them, and I hope she does too.

Morning thoughts.

I'm going to scrub up today.  I'm going to try and look the best I possibly can.


Am I just fooling myself into thinking that something almost happened yesterday, to make myself feel better?


I wish I was actually good at something.  "Jack of all trades, Master of none" doesn't cut it for me.


"Jack of all trades, Master of one" would be nice.  I'd like to be able to do something, and for other people to look at it and say "Wow.  I wish I could do that"

Black and White

Outside, I am the picture of calm.
Inside I am screaming out.


I wish someone would hear me.


I know we haven't made recent developments public, but this last week has highlighted even more for me that I have so few friends.  No-one to hang out with, outside of band practice and gigs, except my brother.  Don't get me wrong, I love him, but I just want someone to ask "fancy hanging out tonight?"  Not necessarily to go to the pub.  Just to hang out.  Maybe get a couple of beers in and play computer games, or watch hilariously bad horror movies until the early hours.


Not one person springs to mind who would ask that.  Except for the owner of this house I am currently staying in, but when I was living in Wincheap, he rarely asked.  I know that's because he works so goddamn hard.  When he gets back, sure we'll probably go to the pub, but it's not the same anymore.  I'm his housemate now.

Blergh

I feel properly down today.


I feel entirely unloved, unnecessary and unattractive.










I don't think I'll see what you saw in me.








I think I'll grow my beard back.

Lazy Sunday

So far today, the only productive things I have done are hang out our laundry and buy some food.


The only two people I have had verbal contact with are are my soon-to-be ex housemate and the checkout lady at Morrisons. There was no real conversation.


I am a tiny, insignificant, ignorant bit of carbon.
I have one life and it is short and unimportant.

It's 2:30 in the morning...

and I should probably get some sleep.




Hanging out with you earlier was fun, if brief. I know there is a lot on your mind, and I understand why you don't want to talk about it.  You definitely deserve a cuddle.  I genuinely hope you have a great time at Thorpe Park.

I long to feel your lips against mine once more.


You are worth waiting for.




My Princess.

Did you ever see a robin weep when leaves begin to die?

I wish I could sing.  I could keep myself company in a way that doesn't make me look crazy.  But as it is, all I hear when I sing is a mish-mash of uncertain wobbly notes.  It makes me feel sick.  So i'm trying to take my mind off of this empty house by listening to some of my favourite albums.

The first was a bad choice.  I imagine the second will be too.  And the third.  I almost can't listen to the majority of my iTunes at the moment.  Anything I'm in the mood for is so depressing, and the lyrics seem to be mocking me.  Mocking my thoughts.

It seems there is nothing I can do.  I'm being honest and open, but everything I say seems to come out wrong.  Other people are not helping the matter.  This is why I truly like so few people, which probably leads on to why I'm sitting here on my own.  There are now very, VERY few people I trust fully.  I can count them on one hand, with fingers to spare.

My mind is a tumultuous storm of thoughts.  I want this to work so much.

I now talk to you directly.

I love you for who you are.  Nothing more, nothing less.  You can be anyone you want to be.  I will never stop you from doing something you want to do.  You are incredibly intelligent, fantastically funny and terribly talented.  Props for the alliteration? No? Not here? Ok.

You are my rock.  My best and closest friend.  I know I can talk to you about anything, and you will listen.  Intently.  I know that you will give me the best advice you can.

If there is one wish I can make, it is that you will give us a second chance.

I don't want to lower myself to begging.  I want there to be something I can do, or say, to help you make your mind up.

To answer your earlier question, deep in my heart of hearts?  I think we would be foolish to walk away from this without having a decent crack at making it work.

Please, tell me if I'm wrong, but when I was telling you about how I felt Friday night, I can only assume your silence meant you felt the same.

If I can still give you butterflies, like you give me, then surely, that means something?

I'm so lonesome I may cry.

Some thoughts about the future

Tomorrow I begin house sitting.  No girlfriend, no best mate, no dog and no lodger.  Just me.  In a messy, two-up-two-down house.  I'll be getting my first ever taste of being a bachelor.


I'm not sure if I'm excited, but I know I'm nervous.


I think I'm excited, because when I was younger, all I wanted to do was be a bachelor.  


To come and go as I please, with no-one to blame but myself for not doing housework.  I get to stay up as late as I want.  In my pants if I want.  With (for the most part) only my thoughts to keep me company.


I'm nervous because that's exactly what I wanted.  Years ago.  I know that has changed now.


I like knowing that someone might be the vaguest bit interested in where I'm going or what I'm doing.  I like having housework to share with someone.  I like the thought of snuggling up with someone in bed, and having that pre-sleep conversation about nothing in particular.


I know that I am on the cusp of my life changing drastically.  This could well be my future.  The mess.  The late nights.  The pants.


The thoughts and the memories.


That's the part I dread.


The thoughts.