I know what he smells like. I know how soft and thick his hair is. I know how smooth his skin feels on his face, and how rough when I run my fingers in the other direction. I know how fast his stubble grows, and where his bald patches are. I know how long his eye lashes are and how his deep brown eyes look when he’s excited. 

But I don’t know where he is. I don’t know who he’s with. I don’t know what he’s been doing or what’s been on his mind. I don’t know if he ever thinks of me. I don’t know if he’s aware of how I hurt, as if my chest has been hollowed out. Empty, yet heavy. I don’t know if he’s happy. I don’t know if I want him to be…

I’d give anything just to run my hands through his hair tonight; breathe him in; wrap my arms around him and slowly plant kisses across his big shoulders and down his back. I’d hold on so tight.

Why can’t he just feel the same?

I wonder if he knows I still think he’s magic. I wonder if one day I won’t.

Wasted Youth


I had lunch with a friend the other day and while complaining about our love lives we started to wonder whether we were losing our best years this way… I mean, I feel like I’ve always had a boyfriend. I’ve been trying to fulfil the duties of a girlfriend since I was 15 years old.

I have this image of the independent single girl with her own place and her career and all her friends and I totally support this idea and I feel bad sometimes that I’m not her and have never been her. I’m always involved with somebody and have been carrying the guilt and the fear of that around for the past 10 years…

Fear; Because I’m constantly scared that I’m doing something wrong. I didn’t used to be… but over the years I’ve been shouted at so much (don’t get me wrong, I’ve done more than my fair share of shouting too) that I second guess everything I do or say at 25 years old. Example: A friend of mine tagged me in a photo on Instagram, alluding to a wild night out I had years ago, right before him and I were ‘official’. My immediate reaction was to smile, giggle, agree with her that we need a similar night out again. But that night is a very sensitive subject for him. So almost immediately I’m worrying: Can he see this post? Can he see my response? Am I going to get in trouble for this?

I actually looked through every one of her two hundred-odd followers to see if he was one of them before I commented with the giggly monkey emoji. And I’m still worried that he’ll see it and have an almighty fall out with me.

I’ve spoken before about my contradictory nature and this contradiction is one I particularly hate. I’m always a girlfriend who’s censoring and limiting herself for the sake of her boyfriend. I’m not trying to sound like a victim because I can be a nightmare girlfriend. I mean… yeah. It’s bad, when I haven’t got a handle on it. I’m only a victim of my own choices. And I strongly believe that a woman should be able to be herself, to do what she wants, to say what she wants, to be unapologetic about her past and that her partner should accept her entire being; the uncensored version that her partner fell for in the first place. Yet in every one of my three relationships (which isn’t many, but they’ve managed to span the past 10 years of my life so I feel like a pretty seasoned monogammer. Yeah, just made a word.) I have changed and subdued myself. I’ve lost all my male friends and at this point lost any ability to talk to a male of similar age naturally, because I’m too worried that I’m ‘giving him the wrong impression’ or simply that he finds me attractive (because I get in trouble for that, too). I don’t speak as candidly as I would like. I don’t go out very much, I hardly ever get drunk anymore lest the real me reveal herself (although to be fair, she’s a total train wreck sometimes). I’m downright anti-social.

At this point, I feel like being in a relationship allows me to only be half of myself. How different would I have been had I been single for at least some years of the past decade? But that question is double-edged. Yeah, I might have been more conscientious, more driven, more focused, more creative, more fun… But I may also have been a hot mess. I feel as though I need a boyfriend to keep me in check, but I’ve never really found out for myself. I imagine if I were single right now I’d be spending my weekends dancing on drugs until I sweat my makeup off and start moving like a zombie before sleeping it off in a cold, dark room… And then I think, is that how I should be spending my last youthful years? Am I missing out on partying until zombification?!

I feel as if I really know myself now. I know that I’m full of contradictions but I can recognise them and I’m at peace with probably 90% of my flaws. But the ‘me’ I know is girlfriend me. I’m not sure that I know single me (when she’s not completely and truly heartbroken, that is). Would I be a liability? A total boss babe? Or a lonely cat lady who spends Saturday nights in beds with cups of tea and sudoku? (Actually, that’s me currently.)

So I’ve been wondering if getting back with him was me relinquinishing my last chance to find out what kind of life single blonde would carve for herself. At the time I felt as though I didn’t have a choice… I loved him, so how could there be a choice? Surely I had to give it a go? And I think I love that idea because there is an ironic kind of freedom in it. I was free from taking responsibility, which is probably my biggest fucking fear ever ever ever. It was the easy way out… and yet it’s not been easy. It’s been a lot of sad, lonely nights peppered with attacks of anxiety. Where is he? Who’s he with? Is he thinking of me? Why doesn’t he want to see me? Of course, it’s not all bad; there’s also been lots of laughs and fun.

So, to be single would mean losing so many things that I love and so many that I hate. I risk losing the person the past 10 years have shaped me into; shedding my skin and starting all over again. Which is a fucking terrifying concept, but there’s something very alluring about the image of that single, independent woman. It should be the case that I can be that woman, who is unapologetically herself, independent, with her own career, her own place, her own life… full autonomy, while being in a relationship – that’s the dream, tbh. That’s 100% a vision worth working towards.

Still feel like I’m missing out on going to raves and getting fucked up, though. If I ever get hitched I’m gonna need a week-long hen do of pure debauchery. You’re all invited!

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¬†Does looking past a person’s flaws, working with them, making allowances for them make us more selfless, more worthy of that person’s love? Or does it make us a mug?¬†At what point do we¬†cross the line from caring into foolish?

My older brother and his girlfriend have just got engaged. A few months back things were a bit rocky between them. When she met my brother she had just come out of a pretty terrible relationship, the impact of which didn’t hit her until the new-romance-honeymoon-phase was over. So, understandably, trust issues she had buried started to resurface, she pushed my brother away. Things were hot and cold for a while (but never turned nasty). Anyway… you’re probably wondering why this is relevant. Now that they’re engaged and officially moving in together, she said to me that she’s just so glad that he put up with her shit (I’m sure she actually worded it much nicer than that but my memory fails me – that was the jist of it anyway). … (is jist a real word?! You guys know what I mean, right?)

SO. My brother put up with the hot and cold; he understood she was going through a hard time, working through some issues, and it paid off. She appreciates him for doing that and they’re going to live happily ever after (which is lovely but I wish they’d stop with the baby talk… Have they asked me if I’m ready to be¬†an auntie? NO! How selfish of them…).

But how long do we put up with that for? A few months? A year? 3 years? Is that love? Is that like, accepting somebody for who they are, warts ‘n all? Or do we only do this expecting the person to eventually change? And is it really so bad to want somebody to change? If we have entered into a relationship with somebody, then obviously we like them as a person, we recognise all of the good in them… but as we get to know them better, as we invest more of ourselves into the relationship, we will discover things that could use a little adjustment. I don’t think that’s so awful. As long as you don’t want to change the person’s personality… or something fundamental about who they are. I mean, there’s definitely things about myself that I’ve changed for the sake of a relationship and I’m a better person for it! We all need called out on our bullshit sometimes and often¬†we need to adjust things about ourselves in order to get along better with others. But it takes two… it takes compromise.

How long do we wait for recognition?

Are we lovers or just fools?

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Pic via Instagram @theloversanddriftersclub



I am the least competitive person ever.

If we’re playing a game, I’m a total bore. Can I just keep score? I’d rather not be involved at all. I don’t get angry at monopoly, I’ll play dead before I play fight… I don’t do competitive.

In school, I was always a straight B student. I could‘ve got straight As if I’d bothered to apply myself… but why would I put in effort when I could just cruise through with Bs? My parents were satisfied, my teachers were satisfied, my school reports constantly said ‘could try harder’ but, you know what? I’m just far too fucking lazy. I wasn’t competing with anybody (even myself) to get a better grade. B was fine, B will do. Now I regret leaving school with 3 Bs in my A-Levels… I could’ve had at least 1 A if I’d just tried.

In uni I was much the same (although averaging more of a C grade than a B, if I’m honest). One time though, I had to write a critical commentary on a passage from a book that actually interested me (which was rare). I was always falling asleep in that class (the professor had the most monotone voice, I’m yawning just thinking about it) so I don’t think my Prof. liked me too much. I don’t really remember why but for some reason I worked pretty hard at that essay, as if to try and prove something to my professor? Honestly I’m not sure if I felt that at the time or I just decided that afterwards! It helped that I naturally had a good understanding of the passage, so I could already write a good essay.. then, with a bit of work, I wrote a great essay (srsly, I kicked that assignment’s ass). I got a really high mark, my Professor said it was the best critical commentary he’s ever read AND I beat the know-it-all, most competitive, suffering from small-man-syndrome, ralph-lauren-and-chino-wearing dickhead who always bragged about his good grades. He couldn’t hide his annoyance (and downright confusion at how could get a higher grade than him)… (which tbh baffled me too!). Anyway, it was probably the only time I actually applied myself and did really great at something. Sadly this was WAY too late in my student life to learn this lesson and carry on to get a 1st in my degree (I settled for a 2:1… B student 4 lyf).

Anyway I graduated and spent the summer drinking and falling madly in love, giving no thought to my career or .. well, life in general. And now I find myself ruing all the apathy. I’m lazy and I had cruised through school and uni with minimal effort, I guess I thought real life would go the same way.


I’m envious of my friends who have their shit together.. have a house, have a career. Friends who really excel at something. I’ve never been really good at anything… I have no real achievements to speak of. All the things I’m proud of seem pretty sub-standard. If I had a competitive bone in my body this might not have been the case. I have the ability to be good at something (maybe even a few things!), but never take it far enough. At this point, I’m actually terrified of competition. I’m really afraid to apply myself… to push myself harder at a sport I want to improve in, to make a bona fide effort to land a job I might actually like. What if I fail hideously (like I did in the relationship I was oh-so-sure about). And I’m embarrassed at my fear of competitiveness. Now for most things, I genuinely don’t give a shit… Sure, it’s great to win or to do well in something you care about, but when it comes to family board games? I’m not gonna get excited over it… I just don’t care. But that seems to bring the mood down for everybody else? I’m boring because I’m not desperate to win or because I don’t scream at the TV during sports (all I even watch is UFC and Moto GP, on occasion). What I need is to get a bit of (healthy) aggression around me. To turn my anger at things (and at myself) into a bit of competitiveness. If not, I’ll keep letting everybody else pass me, and some times I do actually want to win. Or at least put up a fight.

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Absence makes the heart grow colder


I haven’t seen him in over 2 weeks now. I really wanted to see him when I came back from Budapest but first he was too busy and then he was being an asshole and then he was still too busy. Once again he had me up all night in tears. Although this time it wasn’t for fear of losing him, it was because I was so stupid to get back together. 

I just don’t understand what he’s getting from any of this. I don’t understand why I still can’t just walk away… 

The less I see him the less I want to. I can’t imagine him holding me in bed at night or kissing me in the morning the way I could at the height of the heartbreak. I wonder how it wasn’t like this for him… After months apart, not speaking to each other, he decided he missed me and wanted me back in his life. It’s frustrating how we can never truly understand another person. I guess we barely even understand ourselves. 

He’s still hurting me and this time I don’t feel like I’m to blame. When he treats me badly he has no excuse for it. So I dislike myself for not being strong enough to just walk away. I just keep hoping he’ll be nice to me again. I remember he used to feel very comforting… When my head was like a thunderstorm I could lie on his chest and just fall asleep. It would be nice to have that back, especially as I feel so inadequate right now. 

After basically being told I’m shit at my job and that I need to take more responsibility (in areas I’ve had no training in, I might add), I was then given all the shitty jobs that nobody else wants to do. I struggle at a sport I really want to be good at and I don’t think that I’ve done very well in the tests for the job I applied for. The maths was tough (and totally irrelevant to the job – typical).

I’m just feeling very apathetic towards everything and I really hate that. It’s strangely exhausting. I wish somebody would just come along and set me alight again. Make me feel like I am somebody. Meanwhile, I’m spending weeks in bed dreaming of another life entirely. I’ll wake up after Christmas. 
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How do you love?

This isn’t how I love – quietly, from a distance.

I love by waking up beside you in the middle of the night and immediately pulling you close. By running my hands over your body in appreciation of every part of you. By rubbing your feet with mine under the covers, because I know it makes you smile. By making all my best plans with you, by saving my spare time for you, by sitting peacefully beside you in the evening then staying up far too late listening to your thoughts in the darkness, always learning something new, in awe of how your mind works. I tell you about every little part of my day that you might find the smallest amusement or intrigue in. I place my entire body on top of yours and wrap myself around you, accidentally tangle you in my hair and breathe you in. I hold your hand, I eat with you, I share with you, I think of you, I endeavor to understand you. My fingers trace your tattoos, my lips trace your collar bone.

I can’t love you¬†over the phone. I can’t give you all of me in one night. What do you want me for, if it’s not my love? There is better company, more beauty, less complicated minds for you – but no deeper love. That is what I offer, why am I here if you don’t want it?
It’s not enough for me to be your Saturday night. I want to be there for it all – and you don’t have the time to let me.
How can you say you miss me then shoot me down?
How can you say you love me and go days choosing not to contact me at all?
How is this enough for you now?
All these promises of next week, next year, one day… they keep me rooted here. How long until you have the time for the way I love?

Image via Tumblr

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Sympathy Pains


They say laughter is infectious, but so are tears. How can you watch somebody’s heart breaking without feeling a pang in your own? 

My granny passed away pretty unexpectedly earlier this year, and my poor mummy is still grieving for her own mum. She stayed strong for the family, her dad especially, but now that things have calmed down a little, it’s like it’s really hit her.

Maybe it’s just as we’re coming into christmas or maybe it’s just gotten too much for her, but she is so sad. I look at her and I feel ridiculous for how I cried over the breakup this summer, because she’s lost someone who loved her unconditionally all her life – her heart really is broken. 

I wish we could do something to help. I just want the whole world to put it’s arms around her, listen to her, tell her it’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to go to bed and hide in a dream for a few days. It’s ok to just stop for a while – do not feel guilty. Just feel. 

We’re both melancholy souls, my mum & I, so I know how she’s feeling. I know that all she wants is to spend a week locked away from everybody else, with nobody else to think about, nothing to consider, no responsibilities and just sleep and be silent. But we can’t give her that – no matter what we say or do for her she will never be able to be that selfish. She is always considering other people and looking after them. She’s so tired from it all but she never stops. 

When you love somebody you wish that you could take all their pain away, at any cost. It’s hard to watch others hurting, especially when there’s very little you can do to help. 

I just gotta be there to give her hugs and hot chocolate. I guess none of us are ever safe from heartbreak. 

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