Tuesday, 3 February 2009

welcome to the new administration.

Long time no see little blog.

Unioning things tonight - Strathclyde though, boo.
[Mind you, I will not complain about 99p drinks. Ever. I think it actually might be a commandment. 'Thou shalt not mock unions if they give thee alcohol for 99 good sterling pence.' Whatever.]

Almost stressing about uni work, but I'm trying not to - thinking of the happy place.

"I asked him once you know," I say, and her head shoots up, "I asked him if he'd ever been in love." She moves instinctively closer, like she knows whatever he answered will have hurt, that intangible ache - a papercut for the soul. "At first he bullshitted, all that posturing, 'what is love?' and all the rest. And then he told me he truly believed that love was just more proof of the flawed design of humanity."

"Oh baby, I'm sorry," she breathes, and I go to laugh but it comes out in a sharp exhale.

"You want to know how I replied? I agreed. I sold myself out just to cover my own secret. I told him I'd only ever been in love with a shot glass and my reflection. You know why? Because he
is in love with her and it's easier to destroy anything he feels for me than think about how he does love me too - just not enough."