i know, tut tut, when the fuck was my last entry...
i spent the whole weekend with adam again. it used to be exciting getting on trains and catching metros and meeting him at the station and everything. now i think maybe i'm getting a little tired of the 2 hour trek every friday. especially when i know that his car's sitting on his driveway all nice and clean and polished. am i writing this because i know that he'll read it?
we argued quite a bit this weekend. i remember when we used to talk about how we never argued. hmmm. before i go any further i'd like to point out that i'm not really being fair, seen as though i had nothing to write on here when everything was hunkydory. and now because it's not i'm having a bitch.
oh well. anyway...
anyone who's read this for long enough probably already knows that i'm fucked up. or do i just pretend i'm fucked up because i'm boring as fuck? sometimes i don't even know why i go quiet and cold when i'm with him. it's usually when i've seen something or heard something or thought about something that requires a bit more thinking than usual. that doesn't even make sense. basically, when my train of thought crashes head-on into something significant.
like my future. what the fuck is going on with me at the moment? sixth form drop-out? seriously hannah, what the fuck? another time.
my mother. anyone who's got a mum who's always had big boobs will understand that when one gets taken away it's as though that feeling of safety they gave you when you were a kid is ripped away from you. later, to be replaced with a silicon implant. it's hard to act big and brave when you're spoon feeding your morpheine-fuelled mum jelly in a hospital. or when you're scrubbing her blood out of a carpet. nuff said.
my social life. because i'm seventeen and shallow. i'd be lying if i said that in the past few years i''ve felt like a normal teenage girl. or am i just pretending i'm not? i find it really difficult to hold a conversation with someone my own age. i find myself literally taking a step back. literally sitting in the nearest corner. finding that try as i might, i just can't seem to get a word in half the time. as though i'm physically incompetent in conversing with a seventeen year old.
to be honest i'm lonely. i don't feel like i'm living anymore. today, i feel as though the only person who can make me feel valid simply 'doesn't give a fuck'. and doesn't care that he 'doesn't give a fuck' either. i don't want to be a corner shop: there for your convenience. and yet i jump before he even gets his hand out of his pocket to click his fingers.
when we're driving in his car i look at my reflection and wonder why the fuck i've got a smile on my face. it's there all the time like a fucking tattoo. giving me wrinkles at seventeen. when he falls asleep next to me i feel so unbelievably lost. as though he knows i'm floating around in space and is too tired to care.
things can be so perfect for an hour or two. i'm all that he thinks about and nothing distracts him. i'm beautiful and amazing. i can feel him loving me. i put my arms around him and i feel like i'm actually connected to him somehow.
and then he gets up and puts his clothes back on and walks away from me.
i know what the consequences of you're reading this will be.
Monday, 31 October 2005
Monday, 27 June 2005
the circus
been two weeks since i moved into my new house now. it sucks that i don't see adam during the week anymore. when we do see each other it's so much better now though.
anthony contacted me on monday. i let him talk and waited to hang up. he's called out a mental health worker for his mother. i know what she's like - she's got severe paranoia, but she's harmless.
i just smile and nod when she talks about the people who come and inject fat into her thighs and the cameras on her eyes and the people who come and steal from her in the night.
she ties her windows and doors shut with rags and super glue. if that's what makes her feel safe then why not just let her get on with it? but no. anthony knows best.
on wednesday adam came down to my new house and we went for a meal at this carribean restaurant called ochis. then we went to the circus and drank a bottle of red wine. we've got this way of talking about feelings without mentioning them. it's strange. confusing too. when the converstion ends he seems satisfied and i'm left puzzled.
i wouldn't change him for the world. not a thing. i really want to take things further. i know it'll be so special. like he is.
anthony contacted me on monday. i let him talk and waited to hang up. he's called out a mental health worker for his mother. i know what she's like - she's got severe paranoia, but she's harmless.
i just smile and nod when she talks about the people who come and inject fat into her thighs and the cameras on her eyes and the people who come and steal from her in the night.
she ties her windows and doors shut with rags and super glue. if that's what makes her feel safe then why not just let her get on with it? but no. anthony knows best.
on wednesday adam came down to my new house and we went for a meal at this carribean restaurant called ochis. then we went to the circus and drank a bottle of red wine. we've got this way of talking about feelings without mentioning them. it's strange. confusing too. when the converstion ends he seems satisfied and i'm left puzzled.
i wouldn't change him for the world. not a thing. i really want to take things further. i know it'll be so special. like he is.
Wednesday, 15 June 2005
moving on
i'm guessing it's wrong that while sitting on my patio step having my last cigarette in my old house, all i could think of were the memories of anthony and i. it made me very sad.
the primary one was of the new year just gone, when i sat in the very same place, smoking the same brand of cigarettes, crying uncontrollably. that was meant to be mine and anthony's anniversary of the night we met. we didn't quite get there though. ironically, he was with alison that night instead.
i phoned him. we talked for hours. he got out of prison on his birthday. he's on sick leave again with more pills for his depression. him and victoria are over. she said she couldn't cope with his shit anymore. i sympathise with her.
if he'd just sort himself out he wouldn't be such a loser. cos that's what he's turned into. should i feel guilty that this happened to him while he was with me? oh well. oops.
and there's adam. i don't ever want to do anything to hurt him. i care about him too much to jeopardise what i've got with him. it's too special. he is too special.
i said goodbye to anthony knowing very well i'd never ring him again and i'd never make an effort to see him. i won't tell him my new address.
i'm sick of this lingering feeling when i know that all i really want is to be with adam.
the primary one was of the new year just gone, when i sat in the very same place, smoking the same brand of cigarettes, crying uncontrollably. that was meant to be mine and anthony's anniversary of the night we met. we didn't quite get there though. ironically, he was with alison that night instead.
i phoned him. we talked for hours. he got out of prison on his birthday. he's on sick leave again with more pills for his depression. him and victoria are over. she said she couldn't cope with his shit anymore. i sympathise with her.
if he'd just sort himself out he wouldn't be such a loser. cos that's what he's turned into. should i feel guilty that this happened to him while he was with me? oh well. oops.
and there's adam. i don't ever want to do anything to hurt him. i care about him too much to jeopardise what i've got with him. it's too special. he is too special.
i said goodbye to anthony knowing very well i'd never ring him again and i'd never make an effort to see him. i won't tell him my new address.
i'm sick of this lingering feeling when i know that all i really want is to be with adam.
Tuesday, 7 June 2005
adam the teacher/lover
the whole time adam's parents were away, we spent the time together in his house. i loved it. i think it brought us a bit closer together. it definitely helped move things forward a bit. physically speaking.
every single morning i woke up next to him, i smiled. and he smiled. and we moved closer to each other and closed our eyes again, together.
it was beautiful. i wanted to lie with him all day. sometimes i did.
i feel like he's teaching me so much. i'm learning to be myself with him, and in turn, i'm learning a lot about myself. stuff i never thought i needed to know. but i do. and it makes me see things differently.
he's so special.
i've never met anyone like him.
every single morning i woke up next to him, i smiled. and he smiled. and we moved closer to each other and closed our eyes again, together.
it was beautiful. i wanted to lie with him all day. sometimes i did.
i feel like he's teaching me so much. i'm learning to be myself with him, and in turn, i'm learning a lot about myself. stuff i never thought i needed to know. but i do. and it makes me see things differently.
he's so special.
i've never met anyone like him.
Thursday, 2 June 2005
the asylum
when i got home last tuesday - the day of my last entry - i opened my front door to find a letter with my name and address written across the front sitting on the carpet, waiting for me. it was familiar, but i didn't recognise it.
i remember picking it up and turning it round with my fingers; intrigued. the postage mark said Anglia. whoever sent it knew that my middle name is May. i sat down at my dining room table and looked at it for a while. i started to feel ill. i wasn't sure why though.
i opened it.
Hello Hannah - sorry, Princess Hannah. Guess who? Anthony. Guess where I am?
Colchester Prison.
he has this cruel way of making me feel so bad for him when he's in trouble. apart from the phone call a few weeks ago, this was the only time he'd contacted me for months. now, though, he needed something. you see? now, he's lonely. now, he doesn't have victoria there. now, he's bored.
the next day i went out and bought the magazines and the stamps he asked for. after my english exams i sat in a cafe in durham waiting for my bus to arrive. i wrote him a letter. then ripped it up. and another. and ripped it up. i was so angry in those letters. i talked about me and him and victoria and adam. and dalziel. i was so angry.
in the next letter i stuck to safe topics. my exams. the moving date. my dog, lucky. his mother. his uncle. it was all so fake. he'll know that when he reads it. when i send it, of course.
the night before i received his letter i dreamt about him. he was in a mental asylum and he asked me to visit him. i did. everything was grey. it was raining outside. he was crying. he couldn't stand up because he was so weak. i sat down beside him.
he told me i had to prove to everyone that he wasn't crazy. they'd made a mistake. i should have been there instead. he begged me to confess. i stood up and walked away. and left him there. my footsteps echoed and his wailing pierced my ears. and i smiled.
he deserves everything he gets.
i remember picking it up and turning it round with my fingers; intrigued. the postage mark said Anglia. whoever sent it knew that my middle name is May. i sat down at my dining room table and looked at it for a while. i started to feel ill. i wasn't sure why though.
i opened it.
Hello Hannah - sorry, Princess Hannah. Guess who? Anthony. Guess where I am?
Colchester Prison.
he has this cruel way of making me feel so bad for him when he's in trouble. apart from the phone call a few weeks ago, this was the only time he'd contacted me for months. now, though, he needed something. you see? now, he's lonely. now, he doesn't have victoria there. now, he's bored.
the next day i went out and bought the magazines and the stamps he asked for. after my english exams i sat in a cafe in durham waiting for my bus to arrive. i wrote him a letter. then ripped it up. and another. and ripped it up. i was so angry in those letters. i talked about me and him and victoria and adam. and dalziel. i was so angry.
in the next letter i stuck to safe topics. my exams. the moving date. my dog, lucky. his mother. his uncle. it was all so fake. he'll know that when he reads it. when i send it, of course.
the night before i received his letter i dreamt about him. he was in a mental asylum and he asked me to visit him. i did. everything was grey. it was raining outside. he was crying. he couldn't stand up because he was so weak. i sat down beside him.
he told me i had to prove to everyone that he wasn't crazy. they'd made a mistake. i should have been there instead. he begged me to confess. i stood up and walked away. and left him there. my footsteps echoed and his wailing pierced my ears. and i smiled.
he deserves everything he gets.
Tuesday, 24 May 2005
love and legs
i'm in school preparing for my german listening exam this afternoon. should go well if the practise papers are anything to go by. not that i'm being complacent or anything.
the weekend was yet again a turning point for adam and i. friday was the first time i ever felt good enough for him. we were in the beer garden with his friends, my friends - our friends. they all know each other in some weird way.
i had a jd with lots of ice and a marlboro light in my right hand after an hour long search for change for the cigarette machine. i was sitting on top of one of the tables - my legs were on show - they were pretty sexy that night. it was about midnight and it was getting cold. i watched adam talking to his friends a few metres away from where i sat.
something made me realise that i'm not really such a bad person. i'm not so ugly really. i'm giving him everything he needs. i care for him. a lot. more than i realised i did. he could do a lot worse than me.
we were invited to a party - we both just wanted to go home together though. so we went to his house. tea with marmite on toast. my idea of heaven. i love lying with him. when my head's on the pillow it's like i'm in another world, and then when i sit up i face reality again.
i took him to the salsa club in newcastle and we ate a big plate of nachos. in our dark corner of the room with the orange light glaring in my face we talked. we've started doing that a lot more lately. it makes it feel like a real relationship.
we've been dancing around four letter words. two in particular.
love:
1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
Sexual passion.
Sexual intercourse.
A love affair.
fuck:
use your imagination, please.
maybe they need each other to work though. it has to be real for it to happen, right? i don't want to be blunt about it so figure it out. i had to.
the weekend was yet again a turning point for adam and i. friday was the first time i ever felt good enough for him. we were in the beer garden with his friends, my friends - our friends. they all know each other in some weird way.
i had a jd with lots of ice and a marlboro light in my right hand after an hour long search for change for the cigarette machine. i was sitting on top of one of the tables - my legs were on show - they were pretty sexy that night. it was about midnight and it was getting cold. i watched adam talking to his friends a few metres away from where i sat.
something made me realise that i'm not really such a bad person. i'm not so ugly really. i'm giving him everything he needs. i care for him. a lot. more than i realised i did. he could do a lot worse than me.
we were invited to a party - we both just wanted to go home together though. so we went to his house. tea with marmite on toast. my idea of heaven. i love lying with him. when my head's on the pillow it's like i'm in another world, and then when i sit up i face reality again.
i took him to the salsa club in newcastle and we ate a big plate of nachos. in our dark corner of the room with the orange light glaring in my face we talked. we've started doing that a lot more lately. it makes it feel like a real relationship.
we've been dancing around four letter words. two in particular.
love:
1. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
2. A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair; the emotion of sex and romance.
Sexual passion.
Sexual intercourse.
A love affair.
fuck:
use your imagination, please.
maybe they need each other to work though. it has to be real for it to happen, right? i don't want to be blunt about it so figure it out. i had to.
Thursday, 19 May 2005
the pissed-off express
hmmm.
anthony phoned on saturday night. adam was with me at the time. we were getting ready to go to a party together.
he rang off a number i didn't recognise. i wouldn't have answered if i'd known it was him. he was stoned. he wouldn't tell me where he was. adam left my room and went downstairs to read the paper. annoyed.
he talked about his mum and his uncle. i asked him quick questions and didn't give him time to finish his answers.
i asked him how he was? depressed as fuck. on the pills again. are you actually doing anything about it? i've seen the paperwork for it this time. should be out by the end of the month. that was what you said in december. yeah. things are really different now. (i nodded my head to the reflection in the mirror. i'm so different now) yeah. i know.
he was crying. i pretended i didn't notice - i had a party to go to. i really hope you're well, hannah. (i smiled at the reflection in the mirror) i'm good, anthony. i'm really good. (i wanted to twist the knife in between his ribs - scraping the bone with every turn of the knife) good.
i have to go, anthony. yeah. see you around. take care, princess. (that last word made me melt). i tossed my phone onto the bed and stared at it.
poor anthony. i think he'll be dead by the end of the summer. he's so weak now. so different. i wish i knew what happened to him. november was so long ago. now, i'm strong enough to be able to say that it was his fault. he had me. he threw me away.
thank you anthony. thank you for improving my life.
anthony phoned on saturday night. adam was with me at the time. we were getting ready to go to a party together.
he rang off a number i didn't recognise. i wouldn't have answered if i'd known it was him. he was stoned. he wouldn't tell me where he was. adam left my room and went downstairs to read the paper. annoyed.
he talked about his mum and his uncle. i asked him quick questions and didn't give him time to finish his answers.
i asked him how he was? depressed as fuck. on the pills again. are you actually doing anything about it? i've seen the paperwork for it this time. should be out by the end of the month. that was what you said in december. yeah. things are really different now. (i nodded my head to the reflection in the mirror. i'm so different now) yeah. i know.
he was crying. i pretended i didn't notice - i had a party to go to. i really hope you're well, hannah. (i smiled at the reflection in the mirror) i'm good, anthony. i'm really good. (i wanted to twist the knife in between his ribs - scraping the bone with every turn of the knife) good.
i have to go, anthony. yeah. see you around. take care, princess. (that last word made me melt). i tossed my phone onto the bed and stared at it.
poor anthony. i think he'll be dead by the end of the summer. he's so weak now. so different. i wish i knew what happened to him. november was so long ago. now, i'm strong enough to be able to say that it was his fault. he had me. he threw me away.
thank you anthony. thank you for improving my life.
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