Disclaimer

Though a "Diary" my online diary is a work of FICTION.

It may at times strongly reflect actual events of my life, often how I honestly perceived them and display my genuine reactions. But not always and everything contained within should be treated as a fiction.

This is also a personal diary, so by reading it you are violating my privacy. And as it is a personal diary you are not allowed to hold anything you read in it against me, as you shouldn't have been reading it anyway.

Also, this diary is not to be read by anyone who has gone out with me, would like to go out with me in the future, or suspects I may like to go out with them.






Click Here for the old site, as backed up by Wayback Machine (I have gone with the 2007 version as it is the latest that is still before vodafone crunched a bunch of my files)

Tuesday, 24 September 2019

Hiding

I managed a small amount of essay then realised it was time to was and go to the tutorial.

The tutorial was a giant waste of time.  I would have been much better off using that time on the essay, especially once travel time is included.

On the walk home I though I saw Shitlord's flatmates car.  I realised it was exactly the weekly schedule for the only dating thing we have really done the last year.  The group hang was continuing as usual without me.
I hid in a shop, and then scurried off home.  Crying, like a fucking moron.

Started crying again when a friend waved from his car as he went past.

And again, in front of my neighbours, when told one of the neighbours (whom I had barely ever interacted with) had died.

So much crying in front of people who I don't know near enough to cry in front of.



Still entirely not handling the violation of trust.
Two weeks ago now I was super angry that my shit boyfriend had gone off on another surprise holiday that he hadn't warned me about and would never really tell me about (yes, looking back, it was very obvious my relationship was always terrible).
Only hours later I would discover the one person I trusted most in the world had never been remotely worthy of that trust.
That I could no longer believe that I knew anything about the person in the world who had had the most access to all of my truths and secrets.
I had been so open and emotionally vulnerable for so long with someone who turned out to be a stranger who had merely been acting a character who loved me.

I still can't understand any of it.

And everything hurts so much.


I think I need to be friends with him, just to find out who it was who I had given everything that made me me.


I should go try to do this essay.

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