It has been a while since I posted. I decided to stop writing about the ups, the downs and the in-betweens of my secret self, I was worried I was focussing too much on myself and making mountains out of mole hill feelings that should perhaps revert back to burrowing. After Face-timing with America the other night (one of the three friends who know this blog exists) – she pointed out she’d noticed I hadn’t posted in a while. I explained that I was doing a ‘One Direction’ – claiming I had decided to take a break, go on hiatus, that one day
might will return and that I needed to focus on the real world, not just my cyber, raw self. Her response got me thinking, she told me she missed my posts and the entertainment she got from reading them forgetting it was my life and that actually it was probably healthier for me to have this molehill grower than to burrow. I got off FaceTime and thought about what she said – pretty quickly one particular day at the end of December came flooding back…
It was a few days after Christmas and I found myself sitting in bed nice and early with no work the next day, about to head away for NYE with my best friend, wrapped up warm with a cup of tea. Bliss…right? Nuh uh. Tears were flowing down my face.
After a horrendously home-sick Christmas Eve, Christmas day itself was amazing. 18 New Zealand “Orphans” sitting around the dinner table having a traditional Christmas meal, drinking, partying, celebrating and embracing our lives over here on the other side of the world together was nothing short of incredible.
What wasn’t so incredible, was that Trouble was there. Not only was Trouble there, but so was No-name. Yup, the guy I had a crush on a while back, made out with and turned down for a date…the guy that nothing came of due to Troubles impending arrival.
All was going well at Orphans Christmas, really well actually. Trouble and I were getting along famously. He was flirting, he was bringing up old times, he was touchy feely and kind – but I had someone else in my sights. No name. No name and I ended up spending a bit of time together on the couch, talking, admitting we kinda liked each other…we got closer, his arm somehow ended up around me. We talked about how things had the potential to get messy because of my very present past and his recently damaged heart – but he said there was no rush, it was fine to just take it slowly. Disappointing huh, not quite the Christmas present I wanted…it’s like I could unwrap the corner but wasn’t sure if or when I could open the rest of it.
I checked my phone – I had a message from Trouble – telling me ‘not to do it in front of him’. I was absolutely furious. To add salt to the wound, I then heard a rumour that Trouble had left with the newest and tackiest (/unwelcome-ist), addition to the Orphans who had been flirting with him all night. Of course after a bottle or two of prosecco, I added 1 + 1 and got 1,000.
I was wrong, Trouble came back and it was here that I decided it was time to…well basically to kick off. So – off we go outside. Ding ding ding, Round One.
I wasn’t impressed, Trouble wasn’t impressed. We ended up fighting for two hours: me crying and yelling, him trying to hold me, calm me down, telling me how much he cares about me and how hard he found seeing me ‘flirting’ with someone else and that he definitely didn’t go home with that girl.
I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help but feel bad. I was also really sad. Here we were, two people who utterly adored each other on some sort of level who had messed things up so badly – yet here we were fighting and miserable on the most special day of the year.
Realisation hit – we had really messed things up.
After a quick chat with No-name, explaining that things were fine – I decided it was time to sneak off home. Trouble got wind of my departure and refused to let me walk home alone. He ran down the street in the blistering cold after me and continued to walk me home. I had admittedly had a few too many prosecco’s and was exhausted from the emotional commotion – he undressed me, put me in to bed, gave me water, pain killers and left to go back to the party. He then arrived back a few hours later with christmas dinner leftovers and lucozade…and inevitably stayed the night.
I’m not going to pretend I don’t see this from your perspective – I can completely understand how this looks. Even writing it, admitting it, makes me feel a bit stupid – how can I be so adamant for so long about how disappointed I am in him, in the person he has become and the way he has treated me, then argue all night with him and so clearly want to see where things may lead with No-name – yet then spend the night with Trouble. I know I look like a sucker, but at the end of the day – it had been a turbulent night, emotional – plus it was Christmas…!
Looking back at me late December sitting in a similar position to what I am now while writing this, I think I now know why the tears were falling. It wasn’t because I had slept with him and I was re-heartbroken as a result but purely at the sadness of what we had become, our story. It may be a rollercoaster but it’s our rollercoaster and despite the ups and downs, the fights, the kisses, the tears, the sex, our fight on Christmas day showed me I still care deeply about him as a person in my life and that it is completely reciprocated.
Four weeks later, I’m not entirely sure what or how I’m feeling, I’ve kinda blocked out the entire situation to be honest. I’ve blocked him out of my mind, my thoughts and my phone as much as I can…so I guess America has a point, perhaps I do need to get back to writing…let my fingers tell me – and inevitably you – how I’m feeling.
Bear with me followers; new year, new me – well actually, new year same me – new stories.
distanced hearts club ♥