It's bad that I sometimes relapse into writing about you-know-who. It's barely even a relapse, I didn't really ever stop, I just write and write and it's nice.

My best friend writes about boys she doesn't talk to anymore, and it's not about them anymore, they're just characters. That's what I do. I know the difference, because in my stories he actually wants me haha.

Sometimes I used to write because I liked to have conversations, like when my blog spoke in second person, and it was always at him. All that crap that goes unsaid even now. I talk to him in my head, probably every day. I mean, not just him, the way I self talk apparently isn't totally normal, I keep a constant stream of commentary in my mind, to him, to Mia, to my blog. I don't know how to shut up. I just monologue always, even now while I type, half my brain is occupied with meta writing, commenting.

I talked to him today. His girlfriend is also on the other side of the world to him, not my side of it but far away. I don't really keep tabs on any of that, but when he speaks I do tend to remember, even if he doesn't pay half that attention to me. A few days before I left, he offered me a job for when uni started back, not realising that I would be gone until July. Like I hadn't mentioned I was going in exchange for the semester.

He is a douchenozzle dickweed but he's also my friend and as I told him today, us staying friends despite him no longer having contact with anyone from high school was always a foregone conclusion. When he asked why, I just said that I'd put too much effort in to let our friendship drop now. Not to mention, even from the other side of the world part of me still wants him, still craves late night conversations and intimacies.

It's terrible and I accept at this point that certain morals in me fell to the wayside somewhere but honestly, it's not the worst thing in the world.

I don't do anything, haven't for years. Don't try, don't even want to most of the time.

I've also been trying to articulate exactly how I feel about falling in love with someone and doing all of that, and it terrifies me a bit. It's been over two years since him and I, two massive years. I'm 26 hours by plane away from him now, the total opposite side of the world, and I still like him sometimes, still think about him romantically or whatever.

When we talk in person I don't, I lose the appeal, I remember the difference between who I think of in my head and who he is (as of course change isn't one way, and obviously my idealised version that resides in my head and in my stories does not fully represent real life you-know-who, who is more awkward, more disappointing, more rude and much less into me.)

Anyway, it was obviously a bit more of a massive emotional deal than I was aware of at the time. I mean, sure, I jumped quickly from 'love is for idiots and probs doesn't exist' to a complete surety in that my feelings were undeniably love, so it was strong. It's probably why I was so desperate to be with him at any cost, to others and to myself. And it did cost, it hurt and still hurts. I got close to depression and an eating disorder and even now, my self esteem and how i view myself is influenced by his opinions and judgements of me.

I'm scared of dropping myself into that again. Emotional vulnerability isn't fun for me in theory. I tend to be fine with it when I find myself in those situations and once I start to like someone, I become queen of openness and 'the heart wants what the heart wants' and wanting to confess, and be honest, but outside of that, I hate it.

One thing that has helped lately, is making new friends. Just friends, but it can be similar, it's still getting to know you, and learning about each other, and wanted to impress them, and prove you are a nice, good, attractive person. I remembered it's actually a fun process, it's not just a chore that you have to do to get to the other stages.

So when I date, I'm sure it'll be like that. And while obviously I won't mention it, they will just have to live with my weird deal with my you-know-who feelings. It's not like I can help them at this point.