I can act rather well I think, I can lie fairly well too when the occasion calls for it, but in my writing, in my diary I like to be honest at least when it concerns me. So reader you will know me better than most of my nearest and dearest, because here I hold nothing back.
If you read a post from January 2013 and then read me now, you would see, I am sure, that I have come a long way. I was a broken and awkward girl almost scared to post myself on here, and now I am a queen. I am a woman who despite set backs and the odd self consciousness that creeps in, is fully aware of how strong she has become.
It's new year, I hate new year, I bloody do, because its full of lies and false promises, but it's what everyone regards as a new beginning. Me and my one surviving daffodil will have made it to a year within a few short months. I can hardly believe it.
I remember so many significant moments at the beginning that were the hands that picked up a broken little bird and set it's wings back into place. I remember the frisson of nervous excitement to be looked at like that across a hall of people, has anyone else ever looked at me like that?
I remember lying on that strange bed in semi darkness feeling unfamiliar kisses that enflamed every inch of me, I remember thinking that I should stop him, that it was getting so late, that I was a whore for letting it go this far this fast. I remember not caring what happened, this felt too wonderful to care about consequences, I remember thinking faintly that I might lose my virginity on that bed, but I could get used to being looked at like that, and he stopped it, because you know I wouldn't have, I remember thinking what a gentlemanly thing to walk me home a little later than decent and not have gone where I probably would have let him.
I remember thinking some weeks later that this was desire, I'd felt love and heartbreak and now was my chance to feel desire and lust, I can't be exactly sure when desire blurred into love but I do know I wasn't happy about it. and even now I sometimes feel like I should push him away, it's a self preservation thing, sometimes I think I should step back and breathe again, just to see if I can still breathe without thinking about how wonderful this feels. Sometimes I want to cut and run, just because it would be easier to be the one running.
The truth is I know he's in love with me. It's written all over his face every day, slightly different to those first looks across the hall, but it's so brightly there I swear I could bottle it and see the sparkles of it floating around behind the glass. I cannot imagine for as long as I live that anyone else will ever look at me like that.
Despite whatever nonsense comes out of my mouth when I talk, I am head over heels and it is still pissing me off. I swore this wouldn't happen and I'm still at war with myself about it. It's not the sex, (which I know I talk about a lot), it's not the fun, or even the conversation, it's not even that I hate spending a day away from him because if I die tomorrow I want to know I spent my last day with him. It's that I've never met anyone else who I want to spend time with this much, even if its just to have a cup of tea, or to plan a zombie attack plan, I have never liked anyone this much.
So it's a new year. I have no resolutions. But I'm glad its a new year in which we'll come full circle together.