Part 3… Chapter 13… Now look at us…

Hi thoughts. What are you doing to me? It seems that you have an angel perched high on one shoulder and a devil perched higher on the other. Neither one will stop bickering. It goes on and on. I’m squabbling with myself about myself. I mean, get with the program Amanda.

The devil is saying, ‘Fuk him, just kick him out. What is he doing for you???...

He even answers his own question with, ‘FUK ALL’!!!

The angel is saying the complete opposite, ‘Work at it, give it time’.

I can’t go with that. 

How much time do we need. 
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It will be two years this July since the accident. Two bloody hard years that have past sooo quick, and I have changed sooo much.
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I don’t hate him. I feel for him as I feel for me. I want happiness and so does he, but we don’t want it with each other. Those days are gone.

I remember the first time we held hands before we had even kissed. We hadn’t been on dates or anything like that, we had just met up regularly for a drink or a smoke and catch up, for a good few months. Getting to know each other as friends.

Then one night after we had left the pub, I needed the toilet so popped into another pub across the road. I told him I’d catch up with him and the others.
To my surprise I find him waiting for me outside the pub and as we walked across the road he took my hand. That was the start of our relationship.

A few weeks later he said that whatever happens we will always be friends. We didn’t know if we were going to be long or short term fuk buddies or what the future held, who does. It’s only thinking about it now that I see us crossing the road again as he takes my hand.

Reminiscing on good times past.

It would be lovely to remember with nostalgic happiness if the words spoken then were true and remembered by him..

Now look at us.

I’m scribbling away in my diary thoughts that should come out in conversation. While he’s engrossed in face book conversing with anyone but me…

I’m sad.

He’s sad.

There’s sadness in every vibration we emit and surround ourselves with.

I thought we had something nobody else could ever have.

We were solid, with what seemed an indestructible passion for each other. ​

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Now we are held together with passion destroyed and replaced with confused gestures of good will. 

It feels like we’re on the tracks of a speeding train with no breaks to grind us to a haunt. Instead I feel it keeps pelting us forward until the inevitable crash brings our journey to its end…

His birthday will be upon him soon. I won’t be pulling out all the stops this time.
I have asked him if he wants to go out for a drink, although I wasn’t really wanting to go myself. To my relief he declined so I suggested why not get the boys together and go out for a few.

He answered with the, ‘Yeah, I may do’.

He did pluck up the motivation to go out with the boys, then found the energy for a deep breath to say, ‘I won’t be home late’.

Frankly I didn’t give a fuk what time he wanted to stroll home.

Why did he feel the need to say that?

He never had or needed to before.

My daughter was with me so I was in safe hands should anything go pete tong.

This is what I mean about our confused gestures of good will.

I’m more on the devils side than the angels.

My heart is creating a seal around it, bright red in colour. Not of blood but of Lucifers’ wings stopping it bleed. Until the seal becomes as hard as the shell that protects it. My mind…

It’s getting late. I’m going to put my thoughts to rest. Although they are bursting to find freedom and peace with a time to start living.

​Laterzzz Pen, for now…