space to rent

Posted: November 23, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: pointless shit | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Having my own space is great. Right now though, I have far too much of the stuff. I don’t know what to do with it all.

Last night, I sat here on my own, and got wasted. The sort of wasted you can only get from mixing weed, alcohol, painkillers and tranquilisers. The sort of wasted I probably shouldn’t get when I’m so bloody low and vulnerable. I couldn’t trust myself to socialise on the internet, because I knew any status update, music video, or tweet would be a subliminal message to him, and I really didn’t want to play that game. I don’t want to play any game – it’s the games that really fuck us up. So I sat here alone, looked at the internet, thought about him, and went almost completely insane instead.

I don’t want to do that again. I want to share this song though. Here seems safe enough.

What am I going to do with all the space?

waiting to fall apart

Posted: November 20, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: this is love | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Day seven, and I haven’t fallen apart yet.

It feels more like a withdrawal than a break-up at the moment. Instead of deleting my account with this relationship, I’ve simply changed my privacy settings and then logged off. Maybe an internet chatroom wasn’t the best place to play this out. He might have ‘deserved’ it, but maybe I denied myself proper closure by doing it that way. I don’t know. Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet. Maybe I’m still hanging on to some ridiculous fucking notion that we can sort it out. We possibly could, but not while there’s three of us in this relationship: me, him and the alcohol.

Every time I’ve been hurt and humiliated by him, he’s been drunk. Every time he’s started a row over nothing, he’s been drunk. Every time I see him, he’s drunk.  Alcohol changes him into someone I don’t know, and often don’t like. It changes him into someone I have to break up with before he breaks me.

It’s exactly the same reason I broke up with him last time. And as much as I didn’t want it to happen again, I think I always knew it would.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t fallen apart. Yet.