Things I’m  learning about myself from this  ‘thing’ with BB:

  • I think about sex too much.
  • But I’m congenitally incapable of doing casual sex very well.
  • Because I’m too emotional a person. I need to feel I belong with a man. I need to be acknowledged on an emotional level. I also care too much. I wake up in the morning and wonder if he had a good night. I sit at home having lunch and wonder if he’s having lunch with his friends, alone? What is he having? Is he enjoying it? I listen to travel updates and ask myself whether he’s stuck in traffic somewhere bored out of his brain. When he gets home, is he happy to see his baby? Does he spend his weekends making funny faces and making him laugh?
  • Also because my PCOS drives me mad. Immediately after my period, unless I really trust someone  it can be quite an effort for me to have sex. Too many true and false PMS-esque symptoms during that time. And I just can’t sit someone down – someone who is essentially still not close to me and start explaining all my reproductive woes. I’d rather pass the sex itself at that time. So I worry a lot instead, mostly about him, not me. Mostly about how I seem not to be in the mood.
  • And what does that say about me? I’m pathetic. End of story. But of course I want  a very healthy relationship.  That I’m sure of. I may suffer from a terrible and great deal of low self-esteem and other great crazy but that’s one thing I’m sure of. That’s why I said no to Fish. I’m not at my best emotionally and if I said yes I would lose him – something I don’t want to do because I want him in my life. If he still wants me when I’m ‘healed’ then I think I will say yes. At the moment it’s ok for any other woman to have him, although there isn’t any yet.
  • I like and prefer intelligent men. I mean,  BB isn’t dim, but God knows we don’t have any mentally stimulating conversations. Of course I’m aware life is about compromise so I can compromise if a man brought something else to the table, like kindness, unconditional love, streetwiseness and money, yes money – don’t get me wrong but I’m a woman, I don’t just lay with anyone, there are consequences to think of, it’s nature. And I won’t be PC about it, in fact all women shouldn’t be PC about it. All women who pretend to be PC about money in regards to relationships want to have the good life to themselves and leave you out to dry. True story. So where was I? Yes, intelligence. An intelligent man is powerful to me. A powerful man turns me on. I have respect for a powerful man and in order for me to love a man I have to respect him. Money = Power too, that’s why I can compromise. A powerful man also makes me feel protected and taken care of. I feel safe in the company of a powerful man. I feel my future children will be safe with a powerful father. A powerful man doesn’t worry about his position in society so he doesn’t have time to have ‘issues’, instead he has the time to love me.
  • I need to be more kind to myself.
  • Unmasking myself and allowing myself to be vulnerable is actually good for me. Allowing people to see the real me and being honest about my situation is good for my personal growth. BB is the only person in a long time who has actually seen how bad my financial situation is. Most of the times I feel ashamed by what is essentially a situation that is not my fault, but what can I do? He still insists on seeing me, so that’s what he’ll see.
  • I am beautiful – I know this but I needed a reminder after a very long time. From the first day that he met me, BB told me that I was beautiful every single time we met. Every single time. He’s never stopped. No faffing around with words, he just says these exact words every single time: You are beautiful.
  • I like kissing men’s noses.


It’s 3:40 pm, I turn over in my duvet-heavy bed and sluggishly glance towards the door of my room. BB is standing there. Am I dreaming? I ask myself and try to sit up. No I’m not. Oh dear God. Panic. That is BB standing at the door.

Then it hits me. What???? No, no, no, no!  This man did not just ambush me in my place? I did not remember any talk of  meeting him today. He’s appeared unannounced, to find me at my most undignified. A stinking room, dirty bowl and spoon with dried weetabix bits on them,  on the bed beside my head, a packet of sainsbury’s basics sultanas next to it,  bits of used tissue and dirty clothes all over the floor and my menses stained knickers hanging at the corner of my bed. I’m ashamed. I want to die. Oh the humiliation! It’s unbearable. I want to get up but I’m incapacitated with self loathing.

“Hello, I wasn’t expecting you, how did you get in?”

“The woman opened the  door for me”

“Oh, eerrm…I was reading then I fell asleep”

“I can see that, is it warm in there? I’ll join you”

No, please no. You wouldn’t like the smell in here. At this point I’m thinking…hide the dirty stuff on display…hide that bit of the second duvet that’s worn out…do something…save yourself from this shame. But I can’t. He’s already removed his clothes and has jumped next to me. Feelings of rage start to creep up within me. He has no right! He can’t just turn up. He has no right to turn up like this and make me feel less of a human being due to the conditions I live in. In times like these I want to be alone. I don’t want anyone to see the crazy state I’m in. When I’m alone, I don’t have to pretend. I can wallow in my depression and continue fighting a loosing battle with my insomnia whilst indulging and entertaining my glorious disturbed sleep patterns. Then he comes in like this. This is not a part of me I want him to see. Then I calm down – it’s not my fault after all, I didn’t ask him to turn up impromptu.

Up until now he had only been to my place once – after I had done a massive clear out and cleaned the place up and now. And of course after apologising profusely for the state of it – most of which wasn’t my poor self’s fault – the stained and discoloured roof for starters. Ugh. On that occasion it went well though. He didn’t seem to mind and even helped me take out some rubbish that The Witch thought convenient to tell me off about in front of him. But this was different.

One hour after he got naked, I put my hand over his torso  and a few minutes later I hear:

“We should stop doing this”


“Having sex”

Oh dear me. This is it.

“I don’t spend quality time with you”

So why the hell did you fucking come over today? How about you should have told me this via earlier and not turned up. Or how about you should have turned up and NOT got naked, but just you know…tell me this and then go?

I remain silent. I play with his hair a little, he tells me to stop then gets up to dress. He notices the sultanas and makes a comment about how good sultanas are. All I can think of is that they are just sainsbury’s basics. Cheap. I’m a total and massive contrast to his comfortable middle class existence. No wonder he wants out? He also mentions something about how warm my bed is. Do I like to keep warm he asks? I pull a duvet over me as he says:

“We should stop because it’s not fair to you. I don’t make enough time for you”

He leans over to kiss me. Tears start forming. God please no, I can’t start crying now. Not for this man. Please.

“But you are funny, you don’t care”

I do. I fucking care. I fucking care so much. I fucking care so much that I’ve had to suppress my tears. He said I didn’t care because two weeks ago, while apologising for yet another flying visit I told him it doesn’t matter when he sees me. It was his life I said and I will not force him to see him. It’s not like I was married to him or was his girlfriend, I continued, matter of factly. I didn’t mean that. I was hurting and angry…and needy so I just said this to appear ‘cool with it’. He remembered it.

“It’s not that I don’t care”, I smiled faintly and swallowed a huge lump in my throat. He stood up to put on his jumper and said that it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t see me enough but would make sure to find sometime for us to do something ‘more’. So what is it? Is that it or do I have to wait and see if he has found the time to do ‘more’ things together?

He blew me a kiss and left. I lay in bed  thinking of that scene in Bille August’s The House of the Spirits, where Esteban visits a prostitute and asks her  to be tender with him and pretend to care for him, just for that day. Substitute  the prostitute with BB.

I wish I’d never met him.

**An hour letter I check my emails and see one from him, sent at 2:32 pm, without a body, titled ‘Hello are yyou home at 3.30pm?’ I wasn’t online so I couldn’t reply, but why would he just turn up? If you don’t get a reply you wait for one!


I feel so helpless sometimes. I want to talk about things and share some of my confused feelings with Fish but anytime I get close to doing that I get scared. I just met this guy over three months ago and as much as he’s nice to me I don’t want to feel like I’m nagging. Yesterday he was asking me about the future plans I had. I had once told him that I plan on moving away from UK, learn a foreign language fluently and probably live in that foreign country. I’ve got my eyes set on somewhere else in Europe. He asked me about those plans. I don’t know how to explain this but I feel as if he asked me this because he wanted at least to hear that  I have considered the option of living in his country. I might be getting ahead of myself here but I got this vibe from that question. I said my plans were still intact and then I wanted to go on explaining that I’m trying to lower my expectations a little bit especially in regards to a career that relates to my degree. I stopped however. I don’t want to be that girl. I want him to see me for who I am before he starts feeling sorry for me because he still doesn’t know 3/4 of the story. I’m also sacred of rejection. I don’t want to end up sharing my feelings and having a reaction from him that I didn’t expect or didn’t want. If I’m honest I’d love to say yes, I would love for a saviour scenario to play out here. For him to hear everything and still want me with all the complications. For him to tell me it’s going to be fine and always be there for me, to support me. Needless to say, this is the real world and sometimes people don’t just do that. I’m trying to save myself from pain. I’ve made a conscious decision not to put myself through pain as much as possible.

PS: Two days earlier we were talking online and I told him I had been crying that evening because I was so ill. He wished me well and then surprisingly  said,”I wish I was there to see that”.

“See me cry? Of course you don’t want to. It’s awful”, I replied.

“No, I think it’s sweet. I think you are an emotional person. I love emotional people”.


I feel really bad today. My friends are out for the night and I’m here in front of my laptop, trying to do something useful. I don’t have money so I can’t afford to go out tonight. I know it’s not really important but I feel like I’m missing a lot. The fact that my friends don’t know about this and obviously I can’t tell them drives me even more mad.


It didn’t rain.

I walked back home from uni after a one on one session with my tutor. I was told I’m a very bright and hard-working girl who seems very enthusiastic about the project. The project that I was not the least bit passionate about? That’s how much of a show I have to put on. It’s the only way. I can’t afford to show the real me. How broken I am. Lost and hopeless. If I did, I wouldn’t survive.

At home I got this

My baby, I love you. I want to see you.

It was that guy who’s been begging me to get naked for him on webcam. I had no time for that shit today, so I told him how busy I am and promptly logged off after letting him know that I’m aware he doesn’t love me. He just wants to see me naked. I didn’t think about King much today. I have a portfolio to finish designing, for presentation tomorrow. I have a lot of reading to do and an essay to finish. I’ve decided to stay awake until dawn, then sleep for a few hours before heading to uni.

I’m listening to a CD that King gave to me. As I work, I keep having those memories. I was so happy when I was him I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I didn’t listen to my sixth sense. I just lived for then. Everyone around me noticed this. King even once told me that during the time I was with him, I looked out of this world. He said I kissed him as if I was getting just too much pleasure from him. Like I was in a trance. “You are a very passionate girl,” he said. “I’ve never been with a girl like you.”

Well, that’s me. I love hard and fall harder. Still, no regrets.

I have to finish my portfolio.