Anastasia

The internet’s down at school so I’m writing this in word and I’ll paste it in later.

The weekend was pretty interesting. The Charity Ball on Friday night went smoothly and I managed to last the entire party without any of my dirty little secrets revealing themselves. I felt unbearably sober. As though I was the only one in the room without an alcoholic drink in my hand – well, that’s not too far from the truth. I’ve never felt so tense, nervous, excited, sick to my stomach at the thought of the truth coming out. Yet, it didn’t. That’s good, right?

I felt like a Princess looking in the mirror at home – the dress, the make up, the hair. But then when I arrived at the party I felt small, like a naïve little girl at a party of grown ups. You can never let these things show, though. Keep them hidden, like everything else.

After a few drinks Adam grew moody and from looking at my phone, I’m sure he tried to ring Anthony. He started to ask me why he came round on Valentine’s Day – ‘It was just like any other day. It wasn’t meant to mean anything special’ – ‘Yeah. To you, maybe’ He said a while ago that he’d seen my eyes before somewhere – when he was standing on a cliff, looking out to the sea in Cornwall. I looked at him then and wondered if he knew what I was thinking while he looked at my eyes. I hope not.

We went out together again on Saturday night, and when we walked back to his house early in the morning – the temperature outside being about -1, it started to snow. He stopped me when we reached a bridge, standing under the light of a streetlamp. ‘You look beautiful with snowflakes in your hair.’

I froze. He kissed me. I couldn’t move. Who is this? How the fuck do you know all these things about me? ‘What’s the matter, Anastasia?’ (he joked that I looked like a Russian spy that night) I smiled slightly – ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just cold.’ He smiled and put his arms around me.

‘We’ll go straight to bed when we get in.’

I wanted to cry.

interflora day

as always, much had happened since i last wrote.

mumps sucks ass. seriously. i thought i was going to die last week.

friday 4th : went out with my 'older' friends yvonne and julie. got pissed. took speed. met my 'younger' friends noah, tanya and marissa. made an amazaing effort to be civil to people i once had a problem being civil to. saw so many people i hadn't seen in ages. like phil and michael, beau's friends. adam came to meet me in the club about five minutes before closing time. i said goodbye to my friends. me and adam bumped into beau. i introduced them to each other - which of course wasn't awkward at all. it was about 12 30 and the speed was well in circulation by this point. i made adam drive us to the beach, and we sat there for about two hours, me talking incessantly, him listening carefully. then we drove back to my house, and we didn't get into bed until 4am. but of course i didn't sleep. no sleep for the speedy.

on saturday morning i was a mess. and i was starting to get a lump between my jaw and my ear. this got worse and on sunday night i had to go to accident and emergency. mumps was diagnosed.

on monday morning my parents were at work. i was in bed, asleep, dreaming. someone woke me up, shaking me gently. it was anthony, holding his old key up.

surprised? me? no, no.
shocked.

i told him he couldn't come near me and because i was tired and shocked there was a lot of confusion. when i got round to telling him i had mumps he just laughed and gave me a cuddle. 'no wonder you look like shit'. after a while i got tired and said he should leave.

the next day i had to get the bus to the doctors to get some stronger painkillers. the journey there was bad enough. sitting in the waiting room was a nightmare. i looked like a freak with a massive balloon sticking out the side of my face, and i was freezing cold, temperatures all over the place, the pain in my stomach was terrible, and i was so, so tired. i texted anthony asking him to ring me. i couldn't bear the thought of getting on the bus again.

half an hour later, just coming out of the doctors surgery, he rings me. he's whispering, i barely understand him. 'have you got money?' 'yeah' 'then i can't hannah. i'm sorry. i'm with vicky' 'ok. bye' god, he cares so so much, right? i'm such a fucking idiot.

adam came round and brought me flowers that night. he made me smile. they were blue and almost made me cry.

on saturday morning i woke up to find 12 red roses had been delivered. adam again. how sweet he is.

later on i got a delivery. five huge red roses delivered by the interflora man. no card. no name. just adressed to me. couldn't be adam...

or maybe it was adam though. he could've sent them just to make me feel even more special. he seems like the kind of person who doesn't need gratitude to make someone feel good.

I’m pretty pissed off because I spent my whole double free writing one big ass long entry yesterday and xanga wiped it – fucking twats.

Anyway.

To summarise what I wrote, Anthony is long long gone. He was long gone last time I wrote a proper entry but as always there was that small part of me left hoping he’d realise that he could never really leave me – he did promise that he’d always take care of me. He wouldn’t – couldn’t leave me. Could he?

…

I got a phonecall last week, at about midnight. He’s depressed again. Why can’t you talk to Victoria? - It’s not that sort of relationship – I thought she loved you? – She said she does – I think you should be talking to her right now – She doesn’t care, Hannah. Not like you do (long pause, while I bite my tongue)

Do you realise that the last time you made an effort to speak to me was when you came here two weeks ago? – Don’t pretend you didn’t like me being there

Is it the army again? – Just everything, really. Money, mates, Victoria. (long pause as I hear him take in a mouthful of smoke) I miss you Hannah. Everything’s falling apart again. I need you (and yet all through December he let me believe I was to blame for his nervous breakdown)

Go and see your doctor again. Blag some more time off so you can go to the pub every night and fuck behind Victoria’s back – Princess – What do you want, Anthony? (long, long pause)

I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. You were the only one who cared, tried to make it better. I’m sorry (unfortunately none of this was particularly satisfying because I’d known it since I found out about Alison)

You’ve moved on, Anthony. Let me.

It never hurt so much to hang up on him. All those times I was out with Adam in November and he’d ring – I’d hang up without thinking twice. I thought long and hard about him all -night.