Wednesday, 4th of April

I was stood in The City again last night, rooted to the spot as all those hundreds of people raced towards me. It’s an odd sensation when they charge in my direction because undoubtedly I’m scared, but I also have an incredible and exhilarating feeling of calm. My heart is racing in my chest, yet I still feel so relaxed about what’s happening, open to whatever is going to take place. The thoughts race through my mind that I’m going to be trampled, ripped apart – sharp little fingernails tearing into my flesh and scattering my muscles from my bones. And yet even though these thoughts are there, even though they are absolutely terrifying – I am not bothered by them. Last night – like most nights before when I have this dream – I stand rooted to the spot with these thoughts muted, a pacific air having taken over me completely.
But last night I looked at the crowd and the first person I saw was Julie. Fury had twisted her face so that all prettiness had been ripped from it. The panic finally rose up inside me just as she slashed across my eyes.

Tuesday, 3rd of April

No response yet from Julie, but I did get a text from bloody Alison.
“I’m sorry to hear the news,” it said, “hope you’re bearing up. Alison. x”

How the bloody hell could she know? What is going on? My first impulse was to get in touch with Julie and find out who she had told and then work my way to Alison through that route, but I can’t help thinking that the subject of Alison is going to be a raw one between Julie and I at the moment (if and when we do speak again), so I can’t do that. But what else can it be?

Is she reading this blog?

Alison, if you’re out there, let me know.

Monday, 2nd of April

Well I can’t say it was my most productive session with Louise. Of course I told her my news straight off, almost blurted it out in fact – but then had to justify it. For much the same reason as I couldn’t adequately explain to Julie why I couldn’t see her anymore, so I couldn’t explain to Louise. I’ve not told either of them – these women I speak to more than any others – what has been going on in my head. So scared have I been of their disapproval, so annoyed that they didn’t understand and seemingly made no effort to understand, that I have blanked them both out of the important issues that bother my thoughts.
It of course begs the question, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I simply sit down and type into this blog, why don’t I reach out to anyone else around me? There are people who care for me (as well as the one person who is paid to care for me) – friends, family and a lover. Why do I persist on shutting them all out? Why do I instead sit here and type by myself, creating a monument to my madness?

So it wasn’t a happy encounter with Louise, and she clearly thought that when I couldn’t justify it that I should maybe reconsider my decision. That’s what she suggested.

I didn’t go that far, though I did text Julie and tell her once again I was sorry. So far I have had no reply.

Sunday, 1st of April

Well I broke up with Julie last night. It was a terrible and teary encounter in the corner of a Dutch Bar in the West End. She wanted to know why (of course she wanted to know why) and the worst thing of it was that I couldn’t really explain why. The simple truth is that because I’ve been shielding so many things that have gone on in my head from her, there was just no way I could adequately explain what I was feeling. To truly tell her I would have to rewrite everything that had gone on in the last couple of months – the last couple of, in the main, really happy months – to make her understand the madness inside my skull. As such I failed to give her anything near a decent explanation, and left her with the impression that I just wasn’t over Alison. That the reason it wasn’t fair for me to see her anymore was that thoughts of Alison were still too much in my mind. And maybe to a certain extent that’s true, but not in the way she imagined it. She just thought I was a shit who had been in love, and then led her on knowing I was still in love. But it isn’t like that at all, but there was no way to tell her what it really was.
Even more horrible was the fact that she ran off, she couldn’t bear to be with me anymore. She excused herself to the toilet, and I looked up and saw her charge to the exit of the pub. By the time I got near her again, she’d got in a taxi and was sailing away.

On the way home there were tears in my eyes as well. All I could think of was how happy we were at the start, how well suited. I loved that she made me feel so calm, so relaxed with her – she got me out of my head. But the problems were only shelved, they were never properly put away and so I was unable to ignore them forever. Really I should have confided in her more, made her understand – that’s why I was a shit, because she was my girlfriend and I couldn’t find a way to be truly honest with her.

I have problems clearly, many deep problems.

But she’s right. I’m also a shit.

Saturday, 31st of March - addendum

I’ve spent the last two nights in my house and I think Julie is starting to pick up that there is a growing distance between us. I’m seeing her tonight for drinks in Chinatown (we’re meeting in De Hems). I don’t know how it’s going to go.

Saturday, 31st of March

Last night I dreamed I was stood in the park again, looking at Elvina perform up there on the stage. She seems bigger in my dream; not to say that she’s plump or overweight, but more as if her entire stature has grown. I’m looking at her over people’s heads, a huge distance away, yet I can see every inch of her so clearly – as if she’s thirty foot tall and towering over all of us.
It’s definitely Alison with me, I’m stood with my arms around her waist and am nuzzling her neck. I look up and to the left of me are my mum and dad, with my sister as well. To the right are various friends of mine. We’re all together, all waiting – like one of those cults that lives to greet the apocalypse.

And when that comes we are all smiling.

Thursday, 29th of March

When I was first with Julie, I didn’t have dreams in her bed. Those nights  I was between her pink and scented duvet, within her oddly girly room (it's a bit incongruous to her personality actually), it seemed like there was some magic power warding my dreams off.
That doesn’t seem to be the case now.

Now I wake up in the small hours covered in sweat as frequently as if I was in my own bed. Fortunately Julie is a sound sleeper, and so there’s no need for me to try and explain it to her while in a scared, emotional and irrational state of mind. In the morning she does wonder why I’m so sleepy, but I’m able to shrug her away (I’m never great in the mornings). As long as I don’t lash out in my sleep I’ll be fine, but never mentioning what’s going on is starting to get me down.