No point of writing it, is there?
Read, but you might lose a lot of respect or love for me if you choose to do so. A forewarning. I'm not a good person. I'm fucking terrible.
I just thought that some honesty in my life would be appreciated, and some knowledge that I have led a pretty disgusting life, especially in the past year, and that I didn't deserve respect.
My mind doesn't know what to think anymore.
I've drifted apart from so many people of late.
A year ago, I thought I was in love, though I hadn't been in a relationship with said person since April of that year. I would have done anything to keep the best friendship I had alive. It was still alive, a damnsite more than it is now, at least. It wasn't love, and I'm glad I never spoke it out loud. He never left my mind though; every second thought was about him. When it came to the opportunity to muck around with another guy, I did, just to see if I could focus my mind on someone else, and thought none the worse of myself for it, because it never developed into anything serious. Boy, I regret it now. Well, I don't, because every one of my experiences contribute to who I am now. The whole thing lasted about two, three weeks, tops. Also, before that, I'd never kissed a guy. The beginning of this year was the first time. Then I met my ex boyfriend, on the 20th of January, on a camp. Well, I'd met him before, but this time, he'd decided that he'd fallen for me, so I pretended right back. That was the first camp I've been on that I hadn't enjoyed, because we were constantly together, and I would have preferred to spend time with friends. But no. Every time we were together, someone came up to us and told us how cute we were. I covered a grimace and in the voice I have which means I know something to be true, but I'm denying it, I said "no way, I'm not cute, never will be."
Which is true enough.
I fucking hate obligations. On the bus on the way back from the three/four day camp, he basically had his arms around me the whole time, and though I tried to turn around and talk to my friends, who were sitting behind us, it didn't really work. So I leaned forward on the seat, and he complained that he wouldn't be able to hug me. After I leaned back reluctantly, he told me that he loved me.
I was stuck. Love? Fuck that. I tolerated him, maybe liked him. How in the fucking world can you love someone after four days?
In the smallest voice I've ever heard myself with, I mumbled back that I loved him too.
Stupidly enough, I thought he wouldn't ask for my mobile. I felt obligated to give it, seeing as I had been dimwitted enough to bring my phone out and get some other numbers from kids at camp.
So I still managed to convince myself that he wouldn't contact me.
Called me that night.
And I hadn't broken things off with the other guy... I mean, that wasn't a relationship, but things on the side are not honest, and I would never partake in them.
So the next day, I caught up with him and told him that we'd have to end things. He didn't seem too distraught, but we didn't really know each other well. I only knew him because I bumped into a primary school friend at the shop, and he was one of her friends, and we kind of hit it off. To an extent.
Saying that, since that day, I hadn't heard either from or of him. There's an example of someone I've drifted away from. Though I doubt I would have actually retained much friendship with him; I regret the whole thing now.
Mind you, I still wasn't over the person I hadn't dated since a year before. Oh heck, names don't matter when the people concerned don't read, and the identity of the people are obvious anyway. Ryan. His name was Ryan. The person I had a fling with? Dean. My ex boyfriend? Daniel.
Happy, names sorted, off we go.
So Daniel met the family, and I started to feel something for him. Nothing like love, perhaps more of a crush? The type of feelings I had towards guys in year three and upwards. This was after about three months. The feelings disappeared after about five. I wanted to break up with him from the first day I met him, I couldn't bring myself to. I stopped seeing my friends because I was spending all my free weekend time with him. I took to signing off on MSN when he came online, which, thankfully, wasn't often, because I was in the middle of developing a bloody fantastic friendship. I still answered his calls, which were almost nightly, but our conversations, which had never been good to start with, basically consisted of him doing homework because of his boredom at my not responding, and me laughing at something someone said on MSN.
We did a lot of things that I didn't want to do. Which is probably why it's so surprising now, and also why I don't make decisions. I never went to the farthest stage though, and I'm glad. I know a few of my friends think I have, some of my closer friends, even. I guess rumours are what arise when you don't tell anyone anything.
Also, I'm just going to say this, and this is going to make me sound incredibly bitchy. Understand, this has nothing to do with anything, I just want to say it.
Fucking terrible kisser. I don't want my face eaten off, thanks, neither do I want your whole tongue in my mouth. Somehow, you only just learnt by the end of us that it was not a good thing to unhinge your jaw.
Eventually, after the last holidays had ended, I told him that I was thinking our relationship was deteriorating, and I wanted to save it, but I didn't know how.
It was that moment when I learnt that... he actually did love me. I was completely bullshitting my way through his apologies, and he promised that he'd try, and that he knew where I was coming from. I was coming from 7 months of not love. I asked him to try and remain friends.
In the next two weeks we had one rushed phone conversation. After those two weeks had passed, he'd obviously thought about it. He signed onto MSN, asked me how much hope I had left for us, I said that I'd like to see him in person to determine that (or you could take it as I was going to break up with him in person), and then... I can't remember his exact words, but it resulted in him dumping me in a short sentence or two. Later that night, his mum commented on his changed relationship status, which I, being the bitch that I am, liked. "I don't understand people who cheat."
I defended myself, saying that I'd never cheated, and if Daniel was feeding his mother lies, then I was glad I had nothing to do with him anymore. He blocked and deleted me.
Being as stuffed up as I am, the bloody fantastic friendship I'd mentioned earlier? Well, I'd started to feel more for the person than just friendship, a couple of weeks before Daniel broke up with me.
He was the first person who knew, followed by everyone who follows me on Tumblr. Ryan follows me on Tumblr. He started a conversation with me that night. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, surprisingly. I'm in a state of shock, but I'm not that bothered." "Oh. That's odd. That's what I've felt like with every relationship I've been in, when it's ended."
That was it. The moment that I realised I didn't love Ryan, didn't even like him in that way. It took me from March of last year until August of this one.
I let go of two feelings in one night. One that had kept me down for a bloody fucking age. One that never really existed.
Two weeks later, I started going out with another person.
The person I'd started developing feelings for.
A relationship, in my opinion, needs a good, solid friendship at its base.
I had that with what I consider my two most successful relationships.
This one... this one is unbelievable. I feel more for Joe than I ever have for another person. I am in love. In love, I don't just love him. And after being such a horrible person, and manipulating two guys purposefully to help me get over the unintentional manipulation of one, it sounds so false. But it's so very, very true.
I've never believed in love. I've fallen into something that I don't rightly believe. But by god, I've fallen into it. And I have a feeling that the feelings might be returned.
And it won't last, because nothing good in life ever does.
I'm enjoying it while it is possible to do so.
I'm a fucking horrible person, what I've done isn't right, and I don't deserve what I have.