good gosh I'm alive.

Alive, yes. Cheerful? Decidedly not.

Why is it such a shame I only deign to rattle away my thoughts on this blog when I'm really rather unbearable down? It's hardly fair. That and the fact that I frankly cba to keep posting pointless drivvle when it's not welcomed nor desired. 

URGH.

Basically, half term last week, started off by eating my own weight in crap. That was fine until the point where you realise you've piled on 15 stone and immediately want to turn bulimic. I'd also planned to potter on down to the lovely London to see a friend on wednesday, was under the impression it was going to be fantastique and all that goes with it seeing as they'd come to mine a few times already. 
Boy was I mistaken. I mean it started off okay, minus the fact that they neglected to meet me in the right place which meant me surfing the underground on my own. Not that I minded that actually, t'was quite fun and dare I say, liberating. My word if my mother found out she'd go ballistic. Of course she knows nothing of what happened that fateful day, I lied to conceal it from her delicate state, i.e. if she knew she'd never let me go anywhere on my own. 
That's rather beside the point anyway, we got to theirs and it was fine, then started playing poker which was fine, until the point where the point accumulation started to involve less clothes and more STUFF. Blah. So yeah, things happened. To be frank I wasn't thinking of curiosity, I was more thinking that it was rather nice and I really missed having a boyfriend. Urgh, I miss having a bloke. I would make a terrible feminist. 
It was fine, finished poker.. or more finished what we were doing, and I mean rather that I DO still hold onto the shred of dignity/pride/self respect of being a virgin which is a bloody miracle considering. Then things were uber awkward. 
FANTASTIC!

Thennn, blahh, we had food, talked, thought he might be hinting at something, after last night I was clearly wrong. Etc, then he packed me off on the train and I realised what an utter bloody idiot I'd been. Lovely thing about London, no one cares what you're doing on the train so I was at liberty to sniff and let the odd tear trace my cheek. I sound so pathetic.
Either way I thought things were fine, managed to get the right train home: SCORE! Slept so effing well Wednesday night, I might have to travel more often ;D. Hardly heard anything from them Thursday, realisation began to set in that I'd been a pillock. Having said that, Thursday brought pretty snow, too much costa and new clothes which I was in dire need of. Also included uber cute dress of which I LOVE dearly. Then felt completely bummed out when he DID talk to me then ditched me cause he was going out, that seems ridiculous, but after what happened we kinda needed to talk, y'know? Friday was God awful. Everthing went wrong and my word did I look like the most ugly little piggy with gorgeous red, swelling eyes. 

I hate being a teenager sometimes. 

Thank God tonight I get to see Charlotte, I need a pal right now, sick of crap going on and worrying about too much. 

Is it bad I only feel bad because I was played for a complete and utter sodding fool and not because he has a gf? Tbh, I'm not even that pretty nor effing skinny, so why the hell it happened to me I have yet to understand. 

Basically, we're not talking for a while, made me angry that I was such a twat and he didn't seem to care, well he did.. but to me.. blah, just not to the same degree. But the anger made me throw my phone a tad too hard every time I replied to a text and seeing as I don't have a spare, if I broke it I would be fooked. 

ARGH. Help me much?

Oh, and in other news, I have a beautiful new laptop of which I love very very very very very VERY much :D

Ta'taaaaaa. Help me?
x