the accidental girl

Ok so today I learnt how to hurl.. for those of you who don't know what hurling is.. check this link out:
"hurling"

basically death by sport. Think angry hockey meets airborne ball, which you catch, with your hand, with ten angry sticks coming down to hit the ball. Consequently hitting your arm instead. Bye bye arm.

Needless to say, the version I played was much friendlier, with only slight bruising to the shin and now a sore arm from all the ball-whacking (technical term).

The whole purpose of today was to revise ground engineering. Which, really, isn't very exciting. It's all about what roller to choose for what type of soil.. so the excuse of hurling was to be able to investigate the ground conditions should we want to prepare the soil for consolidation. The weather was so nice however, that I gave up on looking at the ground and concentrated on not getting my arm broken instead.

So I went to see Scouting For Girls in Glasgow a couple of weeks back. This is "I'm not over you" from their album, it was an amazing gig- such a good atmosphere.

Painting for a friend.. the whole idea is freedom.

So it's been a while since I wrote.. After my last outbursts, I needed a break. My relationship with M has been extended into the 3 months it's taken me to get him out of my head. We were in a relationship for as long as we weren't before he left and finally concluded what was a very difficult 3 month purge.

The 3 months we were 'together' (for want of a better expression). Whichever hat it wears, it was a relationship, an involvement, a special friendship. All labels sound trite and dead next to what it actually represented to me. Aside from the physical connection I'd felt we'd made, I found in M a friend, someone with a similar outlook on things. A refreshing change from other friends who occupy themselves with drinking and popular culture.
I don't know if he realised how deeply he touched me and I suspect I probably wasn't the special person to him that he was to me. Now, as the memories of our time together fades, I can feel myself regressing to my former self. Commitment phobic, flakey and unmotivated.

The trouble is, I find myself attracted to no-one. Which doens't stop me still toying with other good men. I'm aware of my actions, so stop myself in time but this difficult, emotionally charged journey has made me cynical about relationships. You need more than just liking each other a bit.. I have this constant guilt on my shoulders. I accidently fell into a relationship straight after my story with M was aborted but misjudged my victim. V (the victim) ended up being the sweetest, most genuine, eager to please and gentle boyfriend one could ask for but my state of mind left me unable to appreciate that, I could see he was lovely but I felt unable to be attracted to him.

The trouble being that I was his first ever girlfriend so he didn't understand.

It's taken me 9 years of relationships, 3 heartbreaks and 2 inflicted heartbreaks to understand that you can have the most amazing person, the kind you've always dreamt of, in your arms but if the time isn't right, you just can't love them the way you should.

It's now that I wish I'd met Dave (the only man to propose seriously) as I feel ready for the kind of relationship his personality promised. As it was, I was 19-20, just starting uni and too young to know that if you find a kindred spirit in a lover, you hold on to it. It's precisely following this despair of what was an error of timing that made me so keen to grasp M- with me only becoming more wild as I felt him avoid my fingertips.

I find myself longing to be single.. to rid myself of time-consuming shackles, so that I can see the world, so that I can heal.

So, I went to the party, against both my post-dinner reservations and the vibe I'd picked up from M. Nevertheless, I stuck to my workmates and had a good time.
Mostly because poor JT was trying to tell me all night that he was gay. Which was nice.. and seeing as 99% of my male friends are gay, I assured him it wouldn't be a problem and that he should hang out with me more often.

So.. seeing M for the first time since.. well, since realising he was no longer any shade of available. I know I'm fairly dense (socially), but in this case, the poor guy must have been bashing his head against some hard materials.. I guess I'm just stubborn when I'm in love. It just took him to say "I'm seeing someone else" and then a full evening of me picturing him with "someone else" for me to realise I should try to stop obsessing over him. I guess once I know the war is won I can retire (fairly) gracefully. Before then, I'm a mess... everything I hate in women is me, personified. I could feel his friends' gazes on me, wondering why I was there... didn't they know he was seeing someone new; aka I was over him?? Silly people!
Vodka is a wonderful friend.

I have a lot of sweet friends... who say they would pick me over him. I say it's the vodka talking, he's a far more interesting kettle of fish.

Disorientation is what I'm feeling.. Having leapt a step forward in my dealing with not having M in my life anymore, I've slipped 10 back. Yesterday evening was his leaving party at work.. and it was fine. I spoke a little to him. I'd realised that there was stlil something there for me but I was trying my best to shove it away in a dark recess in my mind.

He's holding a party tonight for his friends to say goodbye.. I've been wondering whether or not to make an appearance. Last night he told me he's seeing someone.

.

I felt suddenly dizzy, sick and dismayed at the same time. It seems he's an oaf like every other man- everything I admired about him was a lie. He destroys all the women he gets close to.. Joelle- Sarah- his first girlfriend, I don't recall her name.. and me, although he was always sure to point out I wasn't a girlfriend so much as just a.. what was I if not a girlfriend? We went on dates (in my case, exclusively) for 3 months, shared our beds..
M destroys women. For all the respect he pretends to hold for them, he uses them and they think they're different to the ones who've already been so they lap it up, sharing with him his misery over his exes who continue to call him, until they, in turn, receive the title of 'ex'.

He's leaving the country in a week, I can't believe he's seeing someone. Our whole relationship was dogged by this impending journey with it ultimately helping to cause its end and here he is, complicating some other girl's life.

I actually hate him.. I could never feel indifferent towards him, but only pure hatred. I can't believe I used to hold him in such high esteem. He's no different to other men. 'Sensitive' my arse. I begin to wish I'd never ever met him.. life would be so much simpler then.