All of it could have been avoided.

I had to ensure that my woe is me post wasn't front and centre for a week. I didn't want visitors - or god forbid - people who know me - to think I am always sad. Because I am not. But I think emotions can falter, and hell, my strength is part of what got me into this mess.

So I've been looking for meaning in everything. Star signs. Calendars. The awful thoughts when I am alone. I feel like songs were just written about me. Or by me in another life.

There's the obvious and current Gotye which sort of applies:

"But you didn't have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened
And that we were nothing"

And then there's this gem, the track after the obvious. Gotye's Eyes Wide Open.

The chorus makes me think about what I've done. Knowing the outcome and danger of the situation and doing it anyway. And I think of the well intentioned advice received, and how I was headstrong. I never convinced myself I was fearless. I was shit scared of the reality. Gotye sums it up well: "And the saddest thing is all of it could have been avoided."

I walked the plank with my eyes wide open.

"So this is the end of the story
Everything we had, everything we did
Is buried in dust
And this dust is all that's left of us
And only a few ever worried

While the signs were clear
They had no idea
You just get used to living in fear
Or give up
When you can't even picture your future

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
Yeah we walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)

Some people offered up answers
We made out like we heard
They were only words
They didn't add up
To a change in the way we were living
And the saddest thing
Is all of it could have been avoided

But it was like to stop consuming's to stop being human
And why'd I make a change if you won't?
We're all in the same boat
Staying afloat for the moment

We walk the plank with our eyes wide open
(walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)
And we walk the plank with our eyes wide open we
(walk the plank with our eyes wide open we)

With our eyes wide open we
We walk the plank, we walk the plank

So that is the end of the story"

I'll be ok soon. And probably less cryptic too.

I promised myself I wouldn't think of you today

I want to show you this but I probably won't. I justifiably could though, given all the times you've been so joltingly honest with me.

I wonder if a whole year will go by without me thinking of you every day. Sometimes I just want to think of someone else.

While your list of cons far outstretches the pros, I still think you're perfect. I told you I loved you, and you asked me not to. And I try.

I can remember every. single. thing. Conversations, smiles, breaths, attraction and affection, the love I felt, the hurt I felt, and the frustration. Everything. And the feelings between us are likely to be so uneven, weighted to my crazy, irrational, not a chance in hell but I'll keep loving you anyway side.

There's a reason that I keep buried inside - a reason why you still mean so much to me. I can't articulate it to anyone, not to you, not even to myself. I wonder if I'll ever find that again.

My life isn't on hold. I'm having a great time. I'm not waiting for you. Of course I'd love for you to hold me again, even for us to talk and laugh together again. I'm being a realist, knowing better than those wishes. I am waiting for the day when my heart and mind is with someone else. I look forward to someone else catching my eye. For thoughts of them to make me dizzy with excitement. I haven't felt that for so long. Not since you.

Everything in my head and my heart

I want to write about everything in my head and heart but it's really difficult. I don't know where to start, or whether it's appropriate, or even necessary. I don't know. A private message or email is probably the better medium to write such words, but everything is ruined now (for now?), so it probably doesn't matter anyway.

It's been a little over a month since my heart broke, again.

I really miss you.

I wonder how you are, whether you're ok.

Though we hadn't spoken in a while anyway, I miss the chance to speak to you. The chance not to worry whether I am allowed to speak to you. Knowing that you don't mind hearing from me. You once told me you loved talking to me, that it felt so easy. I wish it still was.

And it's not as though I even know you well or spent much time with you. The time spent was so amazing it means more than I can explain. I sometimes feel that the short amount of time doesn't warrant my feelings.

I don't feel I have permission to think of you. I haven't even done the usual long play of 'us' in my head, like I do with other loves. Scenes float into my head, usually at inappropriate times, and then I jolt back into reality. I still see you in my dreams - twice last week. Still so vivid, just like when I dreamed of you while you lay right next to me. I hate to remember, but I don't want to forget.

I hate the conditions you've placed on our friendship - or whatever it is now - in that text, almost two iPhone screens long. The text that I didn't read until the next morning, confused, with phenergan-blurry eyes, then re-read it at work where it made more sense, and made me run out crying. I hated the bluntness of your words. Your honesty (this trait is polarising). But more so I hated the good things you said about me.

I hate that it's up to you where to from here. That it's probably nowhere, not even friendship. And that you still somehow want me in your life - and haven't let me go, even though you want me to let go of you. And I'm not strong enough to hit delete. You're still there - in my phone, on my computer and camera, on my Facebook, in my head and heart. The other day Facebook showed me a 'memory' from 2010 - a picture of you and I. I don't need Facebook to remind me of that moment - I remember it as if it was an hour ago. The picture was taken five minutes before you drove me to the airport, and then we shared our last kiss.

And I hate you keep reminding me of what we can't be. I know that. It's like you have no respect for what we had. I adored (most of) what we had.

But most of all, I hate missing and loving you. Despite everything, I (still) saw see the best in you and if I had to put those I've loved in order, you're probably number one.

I often why it hurts so much to love someone. Or why I seem to love the douchebags. Friends often say that love and love lost is difficult for people without disabilities too. I get this. But from the perspective of someone with a disability/chronic illness, it is so much harder to love then lose someone who both saw past and accepted my skin and all its challenges for me and you. And that's what shone through your douchebaggery. Like I love you, it seemed like you loved me, despite.

The only positive thing that I can see to come from this is that you've done this to protect yourself, and more importantly, me, from getting hurt again.

Thank you, I guess.

I'll be ok.