Down with Love

Sooo Christmas was weird , it was the first year that to me , It didn't seem any different to any other day , everything felt like too much fuss and palaver. I spent a lot of time drunk and staring at the Christmas tree trying to figure out where I think I'm going with life and in equal turns trying to reason why I bother. My parents are urging me to pursue a career , my friends are urging me to date. I'm personally still convinced that if I had the right shoulder to cry on i wouldn't need either.

Dating is harsh and If I'm honest , I have no idea how to date . I , until march had slept with a total of three people my whole life and had been in a serious relationship for five years. Dating is fucking scary and I'm abysmal at communicating myself to men. Apparently I know how to say just the wrong thing and I always fail at being the hottest contender. I haven't even got actually to even a first date since the start of November when I promised everyone I would and there has been so many men I've tortured myself with attempting to talk to. I really honestly don't know what to do with myself around men , they sort of make me spaz out. I've spoken to men locally, who proved way too immature and none too serious about getting together , randomers that know me through a friend of a friend that are quite frankly weird and not in a good way. Men that are old and married tend to bombard me with insincere shit whilst their wives aren't watching.The best offer I've had in months is a single (unusually , I know) none committal shag when he gets around to it and hey, at least he's honest. Where the fuck , is mister right ?

I really don't trust men , add it to the fact I get massive waves of paranoia I'm always going to assume they re being false , or are lying or are saying one thing and meaning something else .

Men come to chat to me in bars ? Ultimate freak out , say something bitchy and witty at their expense and run away , flirt with me in any other situation I automatically assume you re doing it for a bet and are secretly laughing your arse off at the clumsy , short , odd looking girl that's a bit chunkier than she needs to be. maybe that's where the awkward comes from and the anxiety that bubbles in my stomach and the feeling of total dread as I try desperately to make a joke that excuses myself before you can make a joke at my expense.

But I know I'm never going to be the girl that every bloke wants to be with generally she comes in two guises . Shes either six foot tall , stick thin and preppy and trying for saint hood or shes a complete slut makes no bones about the fact in fact , she self publicises. She's covered in tattoos takes her clothes off for camera's, has razor sharp wit , is awesome at toilet humour and fancies herself way more than you ever could. I'm not those girls . I look in the mirror and I'm never happy about what I see , I'm scared tattoos would upset my parents , I fall over my own feet , wear adult onsies and always say the wrong thing. Apparently I drink too much and it's not attractive that everything I need I can obtain by myself. I'm blunt and matter of fact, my bum wobbles , my hair is unruly and I talk cry and scream in my sleep.

not all of the time I make perfect sense , I never think about things logically , I get hurt easily and I'll probably try to hurt you back. I wear reading glasses and my underwear never matches. I leave my clothes on the floor when I get into bed. I'm crap at flirting and the thought of ever getting naked with anyone ever again makes my blood pressure go funny. I read Shakespeare for fun and I like crappy zombie films , I'm sorry but i actually LIKE nickle back. I'm likely to make you go clothes shopping and I like to cuddle, I'm gooey about kids and I make no lies about wanting to get married and have kids.

I'm not sexy , I'm not provocative in all the right ways , I'm over sensitive and I get really really scared over things that might seem stupid to other people. I spend a lot of time being what people want me to be or , what I think people want me to be or someone who's not me so people cant get in and see that I'm hurt.

I'm just me , I'm nothing special but at least I'm honest .Still want to date me ? Are you mister right ?

The jaded ram

Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time. -Betty Smith

Let me tell you a story :

The first time she saw him in all his glory was the last time she saw him in all his glory.

She remembers always the light in his eyes , the shade , the shape.

She remembers the measure and the weight of him against her.

She remembers the way his hands cradled her face.

She remembers vividly how he forced her to look, when she turned her face away.

His hand on her thigh , In her hair , on her waist.

His finger tips burnt a trail that's never erased.

She still feels his warmth from that last sunny day , when the crickets chirped in the dust.

She travelled with determination to that god forsaken hill.

She didn't know he'd be there , or if he'd even come.

She waited in the darkness , sheltered from the sun.

He came , he saw, he conquered and knew he'd forever hold her heart.

He rearranged her world . He melted her . He made her . He destroyed her.

Then with out ceremony left.

He walked away , he abandoned her without second glance.

She still sees his shadow beside her , and his ghost In her dreams at night.

The poor girl questions her sanity as she watches from seas apart.

She wakes up crying daily and so shuns sleep like she shunned her smile.

She's cold , shes catatonic and angry in erratic turns.

All she wants in the world is her pedestal back.

She wants his warmth , his fire, she wants the safety he gave her too.

She wants to be worth his love so desperately.

She gave in , she gave up , shut down , grew cold and stone.

Shes lost everything that made her his and it turn she'll never belong to anyone else.

She mistrusts , she stands alone.

But she'll always have the first time and the last time , every word , every smile , every lie.

The first and the last time she saw him burnt into her heart as well as her mind.

Five losers walk into a bar .......

Today I read Why Is Daddy crying's blog , I like to read it , it's funny , it's real , it's unapologetic and it's a reminder that not all men are lying scum who are to be kept at arms length and feared. That's not what I'm writing about , whilst reading his blog I glanced at the photo's in his side bar and his photo jogged my memory , for some reason he reminds me of a man I met on one of the weirdest and surreal and also healing nights of my life.....

I was in Chicago , IL it was the fifth week of me back packing across America on my own . I had some weird arsed man flu and I felt really fucking sorry for myself. I spent most of that week In my hostel bed and I'm sure the cleaners thought they were ignoring a corpse. The main issue was , I was heart broken , I'd given up and I didn't really care if I went to rot. After another pleading skype conversation with my mother urging me to go out , eat and function like a normal human being I gave in and went out. Earlier that day I went to the Shed aquarium and spent five hours watching the beluga whales , had the aquarium staff eye me like I was going to throw my self in and attempted to have a jovial text conversation with cmfcknw or as I rather call him Corey cuz that's his name.

I was shattered plodding along , it was probably another four miles back to the hostel and as I had found walking ridiculous amount of mileage to be a good aid to weight loss I walked almost anywhere I could. On the way back to the hostel I made a last minute decision to actually eat that day and called in to a Chicago deep dish pizza place that's apparently famous , I can't even remember the name . And that's when It got fucking weird.

I took a seat at the bar after the waitress asking me if I was expecting anyone and then suggesting I not take up a booth just for one desperately sad bitch ( I'm sure she said it nicer but that's what I heard) I ordered a double jack ( thus making me look like an alchy) and settled into the waiter talking my ear of as soon as he heard that I was English , he asked me what I did and then talked my ear off about plays and literature ( another frustrated actor) and I found a medical student to talk to about the finer points of pizza and American beers. After the student left an influx of single parties joined the bar having been directed there by the bitch of a waitress.

There was a sales man in his late forties , two women in expensive suits who I later learned to be nurses and a business man looking world worn and weary In a very crumpled suit. We all smiled politely and carried on eating . After ten minutes one of the nurses declares in a very stereotypical Afro American way that ' y'all look intrestin ' and I'm DONE with this silence'

she asks us all where we are from , none of us are from Chicago and thus decides we will use the time as therapy , be completely honest and not regret it as we will never see each other again. ( The men look at her like shes crazy) I look scared, I'm English we don't do strangers . She asks us where we are from ,our marital status and our jobs . The next thing she does is proceed to tell us about her , how she is recently divorced but still lives with her ex husband and has two grown up children , is very successful and having issues in her new relationship that nobody knows about because no one knows about it and she obviously can't take the person home . She then declares that her lover is the woman next to her and in the next breath insists she is not a gay woman. The sales man tells a mundane tale how he married someone who didn't love him lived in misery , divorced , remarried had copious amounts of children and is now ridiculously happy , just fifteen years behind schedule .

The business man whips out his wallet proudly displays his two adorable all American children , tells us how he married his high school sweetheart , owns his own business is a pretty big deal and how everyday he is thankful because he nearly lost his wife in pregnancy complications and one of his children was still born. My stomach turns , I cant believe the loss and the strength and the complication sat at the table around me. They all look at me , it's my turn . How can I make myself sound less pathetic ? Especially when I have a massive compulsion to always be honest? I told them . How I was currently running away from my life , from how my ex fiance lied , stole from me and cheated on me. How I had fallen in love with someone who would never love me back the way I needed him to. How I had no idea what I wanted from my life anymore , how I was terrified 'the one' would never happen to me , how desperately I wanted the happy ever after of a loving husband and children. How broke I was beyond piecing myself back together , how I wanted to run away forever . How desperately i wanted to be someone else It felt like I was turning myself inside out to get away from myself. And THEY looked at ME with pity .

The business man declares he cant understand how that could happen to someone so pretty . The sales man empathises that he knows how that feels , the nurse declares ' child , you a baby ! How'd you get so grown?' The rest of that evening I laughed and drank doubles ( without judgement) helped problem solve other peoples lives , felt warm towards people comfortably for the first time since leaving my babies. That night my ex fiance didn't matter , and the American was numbed and I felt like maybe I could do it. The business man paid every ones tab , we all hugged and then we went our separate ways . I went to bed smiling that night .I often think of that night , I smile when I think of the business man finally getting home to his kids , the sales man smiling at someone who loves him as much as he loves her and I pray the nurse came out to her grown up boys and I wonder If they ever wonder what on earth happened to the sad English girl .

Love letters

I love words , or should I say I love important combinations of words that I can believe . I'm also now a super bullshit spotter , mainly because even if you tell me the truth I'll assume you are trying to deceive me. Not a healthy or romantic way to be , bu then I'm not healthy and I can never afford to be romantic. Romanticism is a nice word , it conjures cherubs , weddings, roses, silk , lace . In all seriousness , who can afford the emotional expense In this day and age. I want to tell you my romantic notions , they aren't quite the same as every one else but then I'm sure you've noticed by now my quirks.

What warms my heart In the darkest moments are the words. Words maybe not remembered as of much importance to the speaker that I wrapped around my heart and carried with me secretively. Without a word I took the gift you didn't know you had given. There are some beautiful sentences bound with in me that In my mind put Keats to shame.

There's words from every paragraph in my life but I'll tell you the recent ones . The American , he opens his mouth I watch his lip I watch him struggle with what he's about to say and the next beautiful sentences start with ' There's this cute English girl...'

The next are substitutes for words for speakers too young to articulate , my babies and what makes me miss them so badly . Jordan's slow deliberate smile when I finally managed to produce something that pleased him that day his slow smile and his delighted 'ooooooh ooooh oooooh' . His learning how kisses work enough to give me one.

Elliot , eternal keeper of my heart his grin his vibrancy and sheer adoration and possessiveness of Carly Nanny . His pats of reassurance before he runs off to play , his squeezes as hard as he is able to squeeze because I know what he says is ' I love you so much I want to smush you' ' I love you so much it makes me not know what to do with the well of emotion in my chest , because I'm only 18 months old' Then his laugh because ' you re so funny and .... weird ... why are you doing that? NO don't stop you loon ! You're insane but I love you'

A baby's love for their care giver you soon realise is such a strong unadulterated love . They love you because you sing them to sleep cradled against your chest . They love you because you fixed the toy , kissed their scraped knee , built the best fort ,made their favourite lunch . They love you because of your ability to love and care for them. You soon realise that men are never going to be able to love you on the level a child does. Maybe that is the driving maternal force in women because ultimately women are creatures that exist solely to nurture they survive on love. It's hard wired into us that that is how we run.

At the moment I'm running on reserves fumes that are so deep in me they didn't burn as fast as an engagement or flattery or need or want of me. They are fuels I need constantly . To reassure me that I am Indeed worth loving . I set myself up so I have been proven right , the last two important men in my life acted like I didn't deserve to be loved . They reconfirmed what I suspected all along , that I'm not worth it. Maybe I knew that subconsciously on entering the relationships .I'm past analysing my actions because by now I know that they are often irrational and even I cant fathom the logic I whole heatedly believe . I know I've given up trying to be loved , I'll never run myself to nothing for a man ever again . My brand of love used to be complete adoration , devotion and caring and all It ever got me was taken for granted and used.

I believe that when you love completely , whole heartedly , should the relationship end then that person still takes that piece of you ,you devoted to them. A lucky person loves once and for a long time . Me and my lack of luck , we got to walk the planet with two gaping wholes in us at just twenty two. I know I made a major fail somewhere.

It balances, the words I keep with me are in slight negative against the holes but they keep me here and going . When I remember the last meaningful words you said to me I'll always remember some of the first meaningful words you said to me. I'll always be 'this cute English girl.....' Whether you remember me or not.

frustration

I tell a lie , I actually did write something that didn't suck royally the other day . Even if it was about my ex :/ I'm trying to un earth some notes I made a long time ago to see if I can't resurrect it into some kind of full length play of any worth . I'm sure If I could just get to America and get distracted then it will all come to me . I hope . I just really really hope for America to happen to me. There is nothing worse than wanting something so badly and It being completely out of your hands as to what happens with it. It's so frustrating to have to blindly believe In something but I would assume that's why I am an atheist. My suit case has been packed with a wardrobe I bought all new and especially for America for the past month. I NEED this to happen and time is running out :/ I want to just teach so badly , I am very fed up of missing out . I NEED my luck to change, that's what It will be at this late stage.

Life in the present tense

This being my first blog I thought I should start at the present rather than the beginning , truth be told I never remember the beginning too well and It comes back to me in flashes. At the present , I am twenty two and currently trying to piece my life back together living with my parents. At the moment there are a good many things I used to be : I used to be someone's fiancée , I used to live Independently, I used to be a student , an actor , a writer, a creator, a performance artist. Alately I'm having problems finding my creativity , which would mean I am not a writer or a performance artist. And In trying to follow desperately what I want to be , a teacher , I have turned down three acting jobs in as many months making me not an actor. At present I'm a clothing retail assistant and a nothing . I want to be alot of things , It's simply figuring out how I get from here to there .

My current venture Is perusing employment at American summer camp . (The reason why i was barmy enough to turn down three jobs) There are plenty of reasons I need to do it. I need to gain more experience so teaching degree's won't use my age against me like they did for the past two years, I also really , really need physical removal from my present , so I can stop dwelling on the past and make clear decisions about the future. I'm also hoping that being a surrogate mother to several eight year olds for two months quells the broodiness and the general feeling of failure, as everyone around me pairs up and gets busy producing off spring.

I'm not very exciting at the present. I go to work I come back I watch bones and criminal minds , read books, make many attempts to write absolute pants , shop simply to fill the boredom ignoring the fact I neither have anywhere or anyone to show my wonderful clothing , shoes and make up off to. I stay up late and I talk to people all over the world. This is my present , this is England , I'm not the only 22 year old that exists under the same cloud. I daren't consider my future more than one week at a time . That is the rule I have deployed , if I think past the week I panic . I have a week left to get hired at camp . I don't want to panic about what happens if I don't get placed.

I believe that there is a certain amount of luck involved in the existence people lead . Some people are charmed some people are not . Some fluctuate . I don't know where I sit with that . I would consider that I have worked very hard and done the best I can by everyone that has been involved in my life and had a considerable amount of bad luck. I don't know whether that will change or not , I don't have a crystal ball. Crystal balls would stop people living . If I could see the future I would have not have fallen so deeply in love and been so content despite my bad luck because I would know that he would break my heart. I would have pursued an education in something that lead to a lucrative employment instead of an education where I expanded my mind and oozed creativity and have been so desperately in love with the people I know now. If I had a crystal ball I would not live simply for fear of the worst.

I'm glad I know the people I know . They are a small boutique couture collection of the most intelligent , creative and beautiful people. The proverb goes that your friends are a reflection of who you are . I don't think I could ever be so amazing as they are. They are so individually amazing , complex and brilliant and creative they rock my world. I am so lucky to have had the education I received , not only because I had access to the best teachers in the field all well respected practitioners in their own right but because I was so enveloped in creativity it stimulated my own. In ways I could never have achieved on my own.

I would think that , my experiences and my friends( including the abysmal deceitful ones everyone has the displeasure of meeting) are a large part of who I am . I would say at the present , their undeserved perception of me is what has carried me through the worst bits because of them I know a few things. I know that what happened to me was not my fault. I know that I was not stupid to love so intensely and loyally. I know that I will continue to trust even when my trust was sorely miss placed and the most important ,I know that I still get up everyday and I still hope that my luck will change . That I still plan for it to change for me I'm just unsure of how long it will take. :)