Oh my god, I’m a crazy woman…

*TRIGGER WARNING – Mum, you might not want to read this one. Just saying.*

Just found this is my draft emails. It’s well over a two years old, never sent, names have been changed to protect the ‘innocent’ but hell, I am nothing if not a sucker for a pattern of behaviour. Remind me again, what is the definition of insanity? Repeating the same thing over, and over, and expecting different results? Well, hello ever-descending spirals…
Anyway, I think there’s always something interesting in people’s lows, as well as their highs. After all, it’s the fuel of reality television and social media. Forgive the teenage banality of it. It reads like it was written really late at night. Probably drunk. It scream nothing if not “I am in pain. See my pain. Witness my own personal agony.” At the same time, on the same planet, two teenagers were murdered in the Gaza strip, ISIS took hold of huge chunks of Iraq and a passenger plane was shot down in the Ukraine. I know when you’re miserable exterior factors rarely register or matter but it’s definitely grounding, at least retrospectively.

I’m also fascinated that I am so articulate in writing contrasted to bumbling inarticulacy IRL. I am nothing if not perfect for the digital migration of life. Roll on existence in seperate iCubes, living virtual reality/insanity and being fed soylent green through a tube. Anyway, “Enjoy.”
First thing first; I’ve deleted Telegram.

Second thing, unsurprisingly, second; I’m getting the vibe that you aren’t up for anything with me anymore. This is deduced logically from decreasing contact, oddly increasingly formal messages which blow hot and cold (especially when contrasted with a couple of weeks ago, let alone a couple of months ago), and the fact that you’re the kind of person who, if he wants something, seems to go after it full pelt, refusing to give up til he gets it. I know you’re really, really busy and big things are going on with you. But that’s true for me too. And I seem to be more preoccupied with ‘feelings’ – *shudder* – including feeling like an idiot because I am hanging out for this XXX-dude who I totally inexplicably think is pretty awesome.


I also know it got really intense really quickly and that was scary. Honestly, when I met you, I was basically expecting nothing. Maybe sex. And I got sex, eventually. And it was pretty bloody good thank you. But I do also like you. Despite trying not to, and trying to convince myself that it was just casual sex, it was just exciting after last relationship, that you think I’m a dick (I am a dick – if you don’t think that already you should), that I’m on a rebound, yadda, yadda, yadda, etc, etc, etc.


So my question is am I being an idiot? I don’t want to do anything differently, but I would like to know if I am hanging out for something that doesn’t and never will exist. And if something does exist, what is it? I don’t want the world on a plate or want commitment or anything, just some indication that potentially this whole thing hasn’t died on it’s ass while you were on holiday and you just haven’t gotten round to telling me yet.


Btw, your senior moment… I had something similar in Australia. It’s terrifying and confusing and exciting and depressing all at the same time. Especially as someone who even six months ago would have said with absolute certainty, and had always said, that she didn’t want kids or marriage. So welcome to the Weird Realisation Club. It’s like the Jennifer Anniston Film Club, but possibly even less enjoyable than Good Girl.


Sorry to do this via email but I have been asking to talk to you for a couple of weeks. I’ve just reached the stage now where I don’t know whether you’re just being a big wimp who is flattered by the attentions of a glittering, amazing human being like me (*cough*) or if there’s something else going on? In case you are in any doubt (though I have no idea how you can be at this point) I would be chuffed to bits if it was the latter.


I also thought email was better than a mental series of 100s of texts late at night or maybe one long one – it’s definitely easier to delete/ignore – or ringing you up because we both know I’m a phone retard. Special Tharah and all that. Though I am working on this, and have regular phone conversations with people of all professions and walks of life. Some of them have even met me.


Anyway, pretty sure if I haven’t already fucked this up before, this email is probably the straw that broke the XXX’s back. Which is a shame, because it is a nice back.


I don’t expect to hear from you after this. Though I would kill for a reply that told me I was misusing my under-stimulated but certified massive IQ and not to be such a twat; that we’ll work something out. Well maybe not kill, but I would definitely be really, really pleased. But as I say this email is sent with zero expectations.


I mainly send it because I need to know that I laid everything out in front of you, because i think you’re worth it. And because there is nothing more attractive in the known universe than awkward over-thought declarations over email. I’m mean this whole thing is just so goddamn attractive *cough*.


I’m just too tired and defeated at this point in time by so much that is going on this end of the phone, to play games. 


Anyway, stay one of God’s special people and give the Cat a hug for me.

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