Over It, Over Us, Over You.

This whole ‘Lets remain friends’ thing was only to humor you. I knew it was never going to work. Besides the history, friends come and go with the seasons and as you know, I was never very good as holding on to the special ones. Sure, I wanted to keep you around. I wanted to hear the jokes again, the laughter. Maybe I wanted to see that cheesy grin reflecting in the mirror as you creep up behind me to give me a hug while I brushed my teeth one last time… Oh wait, you never once did that.
Ok then, perhaps I wanted to keep that sense of familiarity. Meeting people, getting to know them, its such hard work and I’m not the kind of person to just put myself out there on a platter, letting any ol’ random who takes an interest, have a bite. Finding someone, a person, its hard for me. And you’re so close by… But that’s selfish and while the future may set off the atomic bomb in my stomach, triggering the hypotension and perspiration all while resulting in an overload of anxiety, there is this small hope, almost excitement that I will find the person of my dreams. The person who showers me with affection without being asked to. The person who will ultimately be everything you weren’t: Enough.
Alright. I’ll be truly honest. The reason I kept you around was because I was scared. It scares me. The whole “us being over” thing. I thought, that just maybe, for the first time in my little insignificant life, that you were the one that all the magazines, all the movies and TV shows talk about. I thought you were my ‘Forever’. And I can’t accept that. Like William Wallace, stood in the middle of the battle field, surrounded by the bodies of fellow fallen warriors. I raise my arm, shout at the top of my aching lungs: “You may never take my freedom!…” but my freedom means nothing if I don’t have you.





Soldiers of Love.

Face to face,
Meters apart.
The dusty battlefield sketches out our territory.
A gentle breeze compliments the dusk sky.
Lets do this.
I fight for the future.
You fight for the present.
You’re slow off the bat,
I aim my words,
Knowing exactly which ones to use and where they’ll hit.
In one swift motion I fire.
“When should we move in together?”
“Do you want children?”
“Shall we move away?”
“I hope we grow old together”
“What about marriage?”
“Imagine our first home.”
In rapid succession,
They fly towards you,
But you play your card,
Defence mode.
My words fly closer and the dust uplifts.
I catch my breath,
The dust clears.
You dodged every word.
Your loyal move.
I wipe my brow,
I’m not done yet.
I try my next trick,
Flicking though my arsenal,
I find what I’m looking for.
In a frenzy I shoot,
Miniature family and friends sore in your direction.
Accompanied by whispers of laugher and joy,
Quizzes and birthday celebration.
Topped with all the adventures we were going to have.
I can see you panic.
Don’t get overwhelmed now.
You were unprepared for this fight.
Your inventory is empty.
The wind picks up.
You try to run.
But you take the hit.
As the dust clears,
You stand motionless.
Blood trickles down your nose.
I have little remorse.
I see that you’re weak,
So I take another chance.
Time to use my ultimate weapon.
I step closer to you.
I smirk.
I know what it will do to you.
What she will do to you.
I release the cat.
Sprinting at full force,
She targets you,
Eyes fixed,
Claws primed.
Clouds cast over the closer she gets,
Thunder rumbles.
You don’t stand a chance.
She was always your weakness regardless what you tell yourself.
On impact,
Claws rip chunks of flesh,
Screams fill the battlefield,
Echoing afar.
Shes psychotic.
I have my own battle scars to prove it.
Claw piece deep,
Puncturing vessels.
As you collapse from the pain caused by such a small thing,
As the blood begins to drain away,
You surrender.
I call off the cat.
She retreats back into the shadows.
I am victorious.
I approach your limp body as you gasp for breath,
For mercy.
I hover over you.
With your last ounce of strength,
You surprise me.
You throw memories.
I’m unprotected,
Flashbacks hit me over and over,
Theme parks,
Date nights.
I’m wounded.
I won’t be defeated,
I represent too much!
I’ve come too far!
I watch you,
Your fading.
You know it too.
I don’t want to kill you.
I’ll wait until the next fight.
As I walk away,
You use all your power and fire your final shot.
Your ultimate weapon.
I know it’s coming.
I can hear it rushing towards me,
I duck and roll.
“I love you.”
It lands on my neck,
Theres an explosion of light.
I’m down.
I’m hurt bad.
I can’t move.
You crawl towards me.
Your pain is audible.
You find your feet,
Clutching your broken body.
We look into each other eyes,
In unison,
Utter one final sentence:
“It’s over.”

I’m Single But I won’t Play The Victim.

Dear Blog,

Since my break up almost a month ago, I have sat down and seriously reflected on my part in it. I ultimately said the words “it’s over!” in an argument caused by his lack of communication and overall lack of commitment. Or so I first thought.

When boiled down to the bone, there is far FAR more than meets the eye. We had been together just over 2 years and although I’m still hurting, the more I think back, the more I realise I haven’t lost much at all. You see, like many people, I wore rose-tinted glasses during our 2 years and had been imagining this partner that I wanted. In denial or just refusing to believe that the person in front of me was never going to match my fantasy. Don’t get me wrong, He was a decent guy and I honestly wish him all the best in the future but we were so different. I have always been the ‘planner’. I need to know what’s happening, when, where and why. I have been like that since I was small and I don’t necessarily think it is a bad trait. He, however was far more… I’ll say ‘relaxed’. His attitude was that he’s going to live until he is 160 so why stress now. Equally, not necessarily a bad trait but it certainly didn’t match my ‘3 steps ahead’ personality.

Deep down, I’ve known for a very long time that this wasn’t going to be my happy ever after. We have argued constantly and our only fun times were when we were away from home. When we had been dating for 8 months, I found out that marriage and children were not in his future. He didn’t just ‘not want them’, He despised them.  I should have been honest with myself back then and saved us both from this heartache. But I didn’t. I thought I could change myself. Not him, I loved him, inspired almost. I thought I could change my desires. So I pushed children and marriage to the back of my mind. I ignored the overwhelming broodiness that swept my body whenever I helped deliver a baby at work or any of my friends told me they were expecting and accepted that once we moved in together, that would be my life until I died.

So as I type this, I could easily drag his name through the mud, if I wanted to, I could make his life hell… But I don’t want to. I would be a hypocrite to. How can I possibly blame him when he was honest from the start? I could blame him for dragging this relationship out when he knew how much I had wanted kids but he wasn’t in charge of our relationship and I certainly can’t force him to take responsiblity. That is something he is going to have to come to on his own. But I refuse to play the victim when I am just as much to blame, if not more so, than he was. All I can do is learn from it.

I have changed so much about myself in the past month. Every single one, for the better. I am moving in July, to a house more suited for Clove and I. I’m trying to repair fractured friendships and bond with my family more. I am learning to love myself, to make a name for myself, to test myself in ways I would never have dreamed. I have begun my Arctic One Challenge, which will see me push my (very unfit) body to its limits for charity. I am volunteering for a music festival, something that will test my fears as a teetotaler and all round introvert. And the biggest change: I have deactivated my Facebook account. I realised that a lot of the conflicts in my relationship involved things other people were doing. I would compare myself and our life to those of people I haven’t spoken to in years. Facebook played a huge part in influencing me and how I was treating my partner. I don’t want to make that mistake again. Overall, I feel better for deleting it, it’s trying to find something to fill that routine now. I have to admit that every so often, I quickly log back in and spend a sneaky 3 minutes catching but before deactivating it again but its going to take a little bit of time to adjust. I used to have the app open all the time so whenever I looked at my phone, Facebook was there.

Break ups are hard. I can’t lie about that and the older I get, the more tiresome and exhausting they become. However, they can be a great opportunity to reinvent yourself, discover what you love, take up new hobbies. My one piece of advice would be to do as much stuff on your own as you can. I have been aboard 3 times now and each time was with an ex. Those memories are tainted. So I’m going to go somewhere on my own. Make memories that I earn, that no one can take away. Memories that define me.