This is Laura Marling playing my favourite song, Ghosts, live, with Marcus Mumford in the background, as you do. This is my mood now that I reside in my old bedroom, in a county constantly brimming with people from my past. It's strange how nothing much has happened, yet my mind won't stop. Like the inactivity of my life is angering my over-active mind. A boat in a calm sea tossing madly around. A dog sitting silently, its mouth unmoving, yet a terrifying bark being emitted nonetheless. The metaphors are endless.
I don't like my job, and am considering quitting, or just working so little that I barely work there anyway. I am also in the throws of planning out my future. Its so strange, because the one thing I've been running from, refusing to do and terrified of being asked to do, is now at the forefront of my mind, my plans, and my current ambitions. Norfolk has sucked the university-fed dreams out of me. It's cruel, yet the bitter-sweet irony is that those idealistic dreams can still remain, or dwindle lightly in the back of my mind, whilst this new career takes fold. I have no grasp of any of it yet though, so want to keep it quiet. Least to say, my mind is busy, my mouth is not.
This blog, however, is supposed to be about ghosts. Namely, as the song suggests, ex's. I mean, they all didn't break my heart, please don't read into it that way, just they float in my mind like memories without bodies. Memories of happiness and laughter drift through me, and its overwhelming and confusing, yet its all I have.
The most recent, yet least successful and most ridiculous 'relationship' (if it can even be defined as that) was epitomized on Friday night, when I went to drink with Ben and he was there, as per usual, with a new hair cut and his best 'I'm hot but don't try to be' clothes on. We chatted, mainly about utter shit, but a few moments stuck in my head, because what we were was never defined, and therefore never really ended, but just ceased. He asked me what I wanted, and I replied with a casual "money and happiness, you?" but I feel he was being more specific than that. I never told him I wanted a boyfriend, so he never was that, but I wonder now, if I had replied differently, with something seeking companionship or affection, whether he may not have biked home alone that night. But, I can't be honest with him, because he's never honest with me, so weakening my defenses would just be like opening the flood gates, and I don't want that. I don't want to deal with either version of Henry that may exist out there - be it the truthful, boyfriend type, or the (more likely) twisted sarcasm, ironic laughter and condescension, the way he can call a girl 'darling' and make her feel far from that. Not for me thanks.
Previous. The actual most recent ex-boyfriend. I wonder how he is. I see his facebook and sometimes don't want to read / look at what is there, because imaging this blur of drink and frankly dirty looking girls makes my skin crawl a bit. I promised I wouldn't give him what he's currently giving me. This may therefore mean he doesn't care about our friendship, because he's kind of broken that half-promise made in a train station one excruciating day, or it may be me reading too much into things. I think I've said my piece, and I hope he can sit with me and have some tea and bourbons one day in the near future, but I think I'll leave it in his court, because I think I feel past it all now, like it is just a memory, but I don't want to re-open wounds not yet healed.
Next previous. He's back in Norfolk and doesn't want to see me. He's hanging out with the same people I hang out with (as my friends here are some what limited). He's like this shadow, this presence, right behind / in front of me, but out of reach, untouchable, just smoke, or a whisper, or something poetic like that. And its fucking with my head a lot, because so much was left unsaid, but he clearly doesn't care, and it's been so long (a year and ten months, nearly - he has a one year old sibling now, no idea what gender it even is though). I wish I could just press delete. Delete the memories, and everything that happened. Delete that horrible night before moving to Southampton. Delete the happiest moments, like him asking me out on the common, laying in my bed singing to me, looking after me when I got knocked out by his toilet bowl... So much shit in my head I wish wasn't there, because knowing he could be round the next corner is making me both nervous and excited, but I don't know what by. And its terrifying, because I feel like I never properly got over him, or moved on, because I was suddenly in this new relationship which was amazing and fun, so some feelings could be there still, squashed right at the bottom of my heart, just waiting to see his face to pop straight back up and hit me like a breeze block. Darn my over-active brain.
Other 'ex', I wrote a short about. Nathan seemed to not be repulsed by it, and Al never gave me feedback (gay). But writing that really helped release something I had locked up, I have no idea what, but it felt very cathartic. I'd like to put it up here one day, so he may see it, if he still checks in with blogs. May take a couple more drafts though.
Most previous:
This is the band that I once was in love with, three-band-names and current-drummer ago. I don't recognise their music, or their reason for being so... 'dead'. Like, I know they're called 'Fearless Vampire Killers', but surely that means they would be the living ones fighting the vampire apocalypse? Well, decide for yourself...