Valentine’s Day seems like a very apt day to do this post. Is there any other day better to bare my soul about my very own version of Chuck Bass? Probably not, and I am not really sure I even want to write this down into words but here goes.
How do you stop loving someone when even after three years of not talking all I takes is one look, one touch, one smile that can set your heart ablaze with desire, pain and love? This new series is going to be about me digging deep into my heart and sharing a piece of it with you. Comments are welcome, advice is probably needed. You ready to join me?
I used to think you could control your heart, now in my early twenties I realise you cannot. It will do whatever it likes and you just have to put up with it. We are expected to somehow find another person that will put up with us. Men are Idiots. Woman are Crazy. Love is Hard. Nothing good is easy but we have to find someone willing to put up with our crazy and be just enough of an idiot that we can put up with them. We are supposed to fall in love with peoples flaws so their “perfect” qualities shine just as bright allowing them to bury their way into the caverns of our hearts and take root. IT SUCKS.
I don’t know if there is only one person in the world you love, or are meant to be with, but what I do know is I never intended for it to be him. I didn't even meet him until a friend, who is no longer in my life, said she had met someone, she liked him and he liked her, they had kissed and what not but there was one small problem. He currently had a girlfriend.
In my younger days I didn’t think about other girls, if they weren’t my friends they didn’t matter, now I always think. Women should stand together not apart, but anyway. Carrying on…
I said to her, don’t worry, we will go out and if he is there with his girlfriend I’ll distract her. I'll be the good wing woman, and friend, and make sure she gets what she wants.
I can’t remember exactly what happened that night but I think she got what she wanted. Then we clung to the arms of some guys in the queue and got into a bar and danced the night away. I didn’t meet him that night. In fact I didn’t meet him until one of my college course buddies introduced me to a mutual friend, who I kinda fancied, but is irrelevant now. As we both went to the same college, we started to meet up on breaks. We would talk about my friend who liked him, you know still being the good friend to her, and we would make jokes and talk about other girls.
We became good friends and then I met his girlfriend. Then I felt guilty, because she was a nice enough girl and I had been keeping the secret about my friend and him, all the while not knowing that my heart had decided he was the one for me.
I remember one night where we were at some college traffic light party, not one of my fondest memories, and I was talking to a guy called George, my friend was by the bar and He had just walked in with his girlfriend and I can only assume both mine and my friends faces were the same. That was the night I told her I couldn’t be her wing woman anymore. I had a conversation with the girlfriend and she was actually a really nice person and it didn’t feel right betraying someone like that, even though I didn’t know her, I still felt guilt.
That night I also had a conversation with Him. It was weird and I can’t remember much of it but I know I had butterflies. I can still see myself sitting by the dj booth on the chairs to the right, in a hideous green floaty dress (thank god I no longer own that) next to him. I’m not sure if I had been drinking, it’s possible, but we were having a conversation that ended up with us saying that we liked each other but there was nothing we could do. A) because he had a girlfriend and B) because my friend liked him and technically had dibs. We were all so childish in those days but I didn’t want to upset anyone. We chatted for a while longer till the time came and our taxi was waiting for my friend and I outside. The next thing I remember is being at home, texting both George and Him to say I was home safe and finding £10 in my bra.
Strange to think from that moment on we were best friends who fancied each other and never acted on it, well maybe one day. I think that was the moment I fell in love with him, but it wasn't the moment I knew.
The rest is for another post.
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