This storm it came up strong. It shook the trees, and blew away our fear. I couldn't even hear.

I'm having a really difficult time at the moment.
But my camouflage is proving successful.
I'm finding it difficult to get a decent nights sleep, tossing and turning. Turning and tossing. I'm often drag myself out of bed, feeling like I've slept in a ditch.

Guilty. Guilty, Guilty.
I can't help feeling so terribly guilty.


On top of that, I've found out today that my case is finally being heard next week. There's no chance of it being adjourned again. This is it.
I'm shitting myself.

'Cos we've been through worse than this, before we could talk. The trick of it is, don't be afraid anymore.

When a relationship ends, it can fester into bitterness if you feel like you haven't got your side of the story out.
It's terribly frustrating. I know, I've been there.
She's coming over on Sunday, to collect some more things from the house. She's been asking me for ages for us to sit down and talk. It pisses me off that she wants to talk now, but when it mattered she did all she could to avoid it. But I see parts of her in me. I'm overcome with sadness when I can see it.

I'm worried that it will stir up too many emotions, things may get heated (and I really don't want that), and there's a chance we could end up losing our friendship. And I don't want that. She keeps saying that she's accepted what's happened. But I'm not so sure. I think she also thinks there might be a chance of us getting back together. I don't.
I'm wondering if this 'talk' might pose more questions than answers.
I'm wondering if this 'talk' might help her move on from all this mess.
I'm wondering if this 'talk' will just make me feel even more guilty than I already do.

When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you, as much as I do? When you gonna make up your mind? 'Cos things are gonna change, so fast.

Whilst I love being in a relationship....who doesn't? I really do love being on my own.
I never seem to feel a sense of loneliness, despite being alone. Although I have Marley, the plant that seems to be a true survivor, and the two cats. The house never feels empty. And it's never peaceful. Ninety nine percent of the time, there's music playing somewhere.

Whilst I love being able to eat what I like, when I like, playing whatever music I want, at whatever volume, whilst I love being able to not have to consider somebody else when I flick around on the remote, whilst I love being able to go out where I want, when I want and with who I want without having to think about someone else's feelings, whilst I love not having to consult anybody else's schedule in case of a clash, whilst I love not feeling guilty about buying far too many Chocolate Hobnobs, whilst I love being able to watch movies in bed, instead of reading a book, whilst I love not having to clean up somebody else's mess....
I do really miss waking up next to somebody else's skin.

I'll stop all those habits. The ones that made you sigh. I promise I'll do everything right, so please don't let me hear you say goodbye. Gone way past the point of realising this mess. Your name on my lips, lingers through sadness.

I'm not quite sure where I go from here.
Well, I am actually.
I just need a little gathering, and reflection, and peace.




emas eht eb reve dluow gnihton, em ot deil yltnatalb dah uoy derevocsid I nehw.

I remember how it used to be. Now it's all just changed, and I'm cold in the grave. It's like I won't ever be the same, no. Now I'm alone.

She changed.
I saw it, as I gradually opened my eyes.
She threw the chance I gave her right back at my face, with malice and spite.
All those promises broken.
All that trust destroyed.

I gave all the support I could to my girlfriend. All the support she would allow me to give, when she wasn't shunning me, making excuses, spitting lies.... She made a choice, and as a consequence of that, I asked her to leave. The leave marked the beginning of the end.

I feel empty. And lost. Scared. And scarred.
Guilty.

In her communications, she leaped from one emotion to the opposite. She's finally admitted her problem, been on a fast-track rehab, whilst at the same time sent me some of the nastiest and cutting messages. For which, she's apologised, many times. Blaming the 'shit' and her fluctuations in moods. And then she's sent me the most thoughtful and touching messages.

I've spent a lot of time researching heroin addiction, in particular stories posted by users and their partners. There were no happy endings there that I saw. Many relapses. Many cries for help. Much talk of partners becoming a victim themselves to the drug.

My ex girlfriend taught me something during the healing process of our break-up. We had both gone through our own stories of shit. But she was stronger, and that helped her realise that being with me was just dragging her backwards. And when you've already been through enough shit, why allow it to happen again? By making the decision to save herself, she was actually saving us both.

I need sunshine, I need angels. I need something good.

My case was heard in court today.
Basically, it's been adjourned because the Judge ruled that my case had not been stated clearly enough. "Clear as mud", he said. Followed by 40 minutes of legal jargon that went right over my head, but my Barrister appeared to understand.
So, it's still ongoing.
Fuck it.
I thought it would be over one way or another, today.

That aside, I'm coming to the conclusion that there's something drastically wrong with me, because it's looking like I'm gonna be single again soon.
Fuckitttttttttttt.

But when you walked out that door, a piece of me died. Told you I wanted more, that's not what I had in mind. Just want it like before.

Ohhhh mannnnn.
What have you done!

You're like a kitten with a ball of wool. And it's doing me in, doing me in, doing me in....

Two things....

One: For fucks sake!

Two: I have my court date. The fourteenth of February. Valentines day. For fucks sake! Again!

I've been waiting for you, it's been so long. I knew just what I would do, when I heard your song.

This year, I shall be raising a glass of vino to the people we lost this year and taking a minute or two to think about the people less fortunate than ourselves.

Something mahoosive is happening tomorrow.
Merry Christmas x

Eighty Six Charlie, he came back. Said he'd been thinking it over. Says he's had a change of heart . He thinks he's made a grave mistake.

And just when I'm about to get all wrapped up in my own self-pity, wondering why things in my life are so complicated and tough, so barren and bare....something happens to slap me in the face and wake me up to all the other people's crap in the world.
And once again, I'm feeling lucky. In a way.

Earlier today, my ex-wife lost her step-dad. He was as close to a real dad to her and her sister as one could possibly get. She is from a very close family, so she's taking it hard, and she's so wrapped up in her mum's grief that she's probably not really had it properly sink in herself yet.
That's been terrible enough, but my kids have also lost their grandad. And it's been just awful....heartbreaking to see them trying to cope with the news.

Although we never really saw eye to eye, we got on with each other well enough to have shared the occasional evening together; several pints, a pool table and the two of us. He knows my biggest gripe with him was his drinking. Which, in time, developed into full blown alcoholism. We all thought the prognosis from his doctor would have been enough to scare the shit out of him, to show him a better way forward, to help him once and for all to see that he was slowly killing his body. It wasn't. When he was told he wouldn't survive a liver transplant operation, he knew....we all knew it was too late.
It was arranged that he spent the last of his days, weeks or months, however long, at home, with his family around him. And that's exactly how he spent his last breaths; with all of his loved ones by his bedside during his last few hours.
It's the way he wanted to die.
It's surely the way anybody would want to die.

RIP x

Are the details in the fabric? Are there things that make you panic? Are your thoughts results of static cling?

They pulled out at the last minute.
Seriously, fuck my life.

And in one little moment, it all implodes. This isn't everything you are. Breathe deeply in the silence, no sudden moves. This isn't everything you are.

Hearing at just after 9am on the day of completion that "something has slipped through the net" isn't the best kind of news.
It hasn't all fallen through. It's been delayed. By another week.
Yeah, no problem. Just unpack loads of essential day-to-day stuff, call all those companies up to reinstate services, beg with the removal company to hopefully reschedule for next week and not lose initial deposit paid, cancel the 'surprise' friends evening and hope people can still make it next week, etc etc.
Add to that, that neither of us can change the extra time off from our respective jobs, so if  it does happen next week, then it's going to be so much harder.
I should be used to shit like this.

You would call the garden rules out like commands. And we would all obey. But you'd stifle giddy laughter as you spoke. And puncture the pretend.

It feels very, very weird to think I have someone else moving in with me.
I don't feel precious about this house. My house. I'm not feeling guarded and protective about it. If anything, it's been a noose around my neck for many years now.
But I don't hate it. In fact, I love this place. It's a quiet road, I don't hear anything from the neighbours. In fact, the house adjoined to mine sold a good few months ago, and since then, there's been loads of workmen in banging, drilling, scraping, knocking and clumping around. So no connecting neighbours, which is good for the music....which is good for my soul.
It's convincingly roomy, with it's lovely loft-conversion, its open-plan ground floor and funky conservatory. The cats love it here, which is good news considering there's potentially another three joining them!
Yes, it's a great house.
And I really do feel completely comfortable thinking that there will be a time when I no longer think of it as my house. It would be our house.

I keep getting asked what happens when one of the 'house rules' gets broken.
How utter shit to think that I have any such 'house rules'.

All being well, it all kicks off tomorrow.

Will I turn my coat to the rain? I don't know. But I'm going somewhere I can warm my bones.

So, after Friday, I....I say I, but I mean me and the cats; Dexter and Dozy, will be joined by another person in the house. A real human being.

Totally scary.

After two weeks since the interview from hell, I've still heard nothing. The other guy who's also gone for the job hasn't heard anything either, nor has one other person we know got through to interviews.

Quite bizarre.

In the last four weeks, a few things have broken; the TV, my computer, the mouse a short time before that, the paper shredder, my mobile phone and the light switch in the garage. I've lost the installation disc for the wireless printer and I never installed it on this laptop, and of course I need to print stuff. Oh, and the fridge is making a peculiar sound. A sound that doesn't sound like a well working machine. It's a good job I haven't got a freezer or washing machine to konk out on me as well.

Slightly cursed at the moment.

And you should never cut your hair, 'cos I love the way you flick it off your shoulder.

It's your most defining moment.
It's where you want the initial focus. it's where you want the afterthought,
To linger.

Sweeping it away from your face.
It's where you want the very least focus, it's where you left your afterglow,
To falter.

It's obvious when you're rekindling that friendship.
With your confidence.
It's telling with your rags, your clips, your bands.
Growing your confidence.

Sure, all men are created equal. Here's the church, here's the steeple. Please stay tuned, cut to sequel. Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.

I don't think I've ever felt such a lack of confidence after going for an interview.
The week before, I'd spent so much time preparing; researching the role, speaking to other people within the company who currently hold this position to get as much useful info as I could, reading through interview techniques, preparing strong answers to expected questions, getting my mind into the right positive frame, practising role play and presentation techniques, delving deeper into body language and improved delivery of speech, preparing questions to ask....
In the car on the way back, as the previous three hours spun round and round in my head....as my mind replayed that role play scenario, that assessment and those questions....all I could manage to say to myself was, "What a fucking dick!" or "I couldn't have fucked that up more even if I'd tried."

As I sat waiting to be called in for the interview/selection assessment, I felt pretty damned confident. I'd say a strong eight out of ten. Three hours later, as I walked back to the car before heading back, that confidence level had been kicked in the bollocks. Thinking to myself at that moment, I felt more like two out of ten was being very generous.
Needless to say, I'm not expecting to be invited to the next stage.

And you can tell the world that you're tired. But your excuses, they won't work. 'Cos I'll know that you're lying.

So, this afternoon, while I'm sat in a stuffy office telling my boss that I've applied for this (quite considerably out of my league) position, my mobile rings. I muted it and continued our conversation; we were at the part where he 'wished me good luck', whilst wearing a slight sneer. I got bleeped for a new voicemail; it was from the girl in HR where I'd sent my CV, asking me if I could contact her to arrange an interview day and time, her preference being next Monday.
What were the chance of that happening!

 I already know my boss will play a face about me wanting an extra day off next week.
This is gonna be interesting.

It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm, we can roll ourselves over when we're uncomfortable.

I applied for a new job today.
I've read through the job description and I'm totally confident that I could not only do the job, but do it well and really enjoy the challenge.
The job descriptions from the company I work for, are very detailed. The last page gives an over-view of the type of person they're looking for, then goes on to list current positions within the company where this new position would be considered a promotion. All those current positions are quite a way above my head as it is. And I think I might fall a little short on the experience they're looking for. But fuck it, I've applied anyway.

I misplaced your face in the shape of a smile, on a night that could never surprise me. Don't tell me you're afraid of the past, it's only the future that didn't last.

Another year older, and I still don't feel strong enough at times.
Isn't it supposed to get easier?!

I'm told, by my money grabbing solicitor, that my case should be over by the end of February. Blimey, it feels so far away. So, by the end of Feb, I will be free of this horrible noose around my neck. I'll know either way if it was all worth it.

And by the end of this month, I'll have a new housemate. Yes, somebody to sit with, in my terribly pathetic living room; with it's lack of wallpaper, carpet, lampshades, broken TV, broken PC, freezing along with me because we can't afford the heating bills. Lovely.
I expect we'll be sleeping together within twelve hours of her setting foot in the house. Considering she's my girlfriend, and all.

This place has been quiet.
My PC is indeed broken. And my laptop tends to randomly power down, making it very difficult to do anything. It's holding out so far, hence the blogging. And I've realised I've got loads I wanna get off my chest. I feel the need to vent some stuff, so as long as my laptop can hold out, I'll make a conscious effort to spill my thoughts. After all, it's gonna be much more difficult after the end of the month. She knows I blog, but she doesn't know where. And she's never asked me. Which I find nice.

This has be the worst year ever for me in terms of going to gigs. I saw Rihanna a few weeks ago. She nailed it! What's horrific, is that I think she's only my third gig this year. That's probably the worst it's been since I was fifteen.
Fuck!

See I could do without a tan, on my left hand, where my forth finger meets my knuckle. And I should run you a hot bath, and fill it up with bubbles.

My niece gets married on Sunday.
It's become a weird date, by coincidence.
9.10.11  12:00

My brother's daughter. My sad eyes have always seen her as the daughter I never had.
She seems to have a great connection with her guy, and I truly hope that getting married doesn't change any of that.
I have such a terrible opinion of marriage.

I've just noticed that I opened with "...gets married", instead of "....is getting married". Like I've presumed it will happen. As have all the other guests, I suppose.
It would be so cool if she did a runner.