Wary of Weekends

So, we’re pushing a week since I said goodbye now, just a couple more days. During the week was hard enough, but the weekends are always harder as there’s so much more empty time during which my mind can run riot with all of its musings. I normally get on and do stuff to distract myself but it’s not always easy.

I decided to go out to town today, to get out of the house and have a nice long walk since it’s colder weather and I don’t overheat for ages but the whole time I was so anxious that I might see you somewhere. I still have no idea what I’d do or how I’d react. If we were walking toward one another I’d probably freeze while I weighed up the options of either continuing toward you and risking a really awkward passing hello which would be insulting to you because you deserve more, or a conversation (which is fairer for us both) in which I’m about as smooth and together as a destroyed teapot or praying that you hadn’t seen me up to that point, changing direction and legging it to whatever extent I could manage before it became obvious and noticeable. If I saw you through a shop window or browsing across the same shop, I’d probably just stiffen up, keep my head down and move on swiftly, ignoring the pang across my chest. But what if you were the one who saw me? Would you come up to me? Or would you experience the same kind of indecision as me? Probably not since you’re much more level headed then me in emotional situations, a trait I am still envious and in admiration of.

Either way, I think I made it through town okay. I bought some pens, grabbed a coffee and marched sternly back up the hill, deflating noticeably once I’d made it out of the central area back to the sanctity of other shifty people with their hands in their pockets and heads down trying to just get on with their journey.

It’s a strange position to be in, for me. I want to see you again, more than anything else, I miss the beauty of your face and the soothing of your voice and the incredibly alluring aura that surrounds you and everything you do. Yet, if I were to see you, I know how much pain would be shooting through me, knowing that we’re physically close to one another but so far apart, that nothing has changed and you’re still not coming back. I still fucking peer eagerly at my front door as I drive up to park my car in case you’re outside waiting for me. I still take a cheeky glance out of the window whenever I’m my kitchen washing up in case you’re walking down the road to knock on my door. I still looking at the cunting sky at night and tell you I miss you and I still jump a mile and get excited when I hear the email notification ping from my phone. It’s probably pathetic and stupid of me. I don’t care. I love you and miss you. I’m not ashamed to feel these things, nor be considered dramatic in my expression of them.

All I know is that I can’t be the one to break the silence this time. If you’re to make things work on your end, I can’t be there on your radar. You need a view of your path ahead without me obscuring it. I have to wait until such a time that you make contact or…I dunno really. I guess only time will tell what the alternative is because, as of right now, I’m losing grip on the tiny slither of hope I had left that you might come back to me.


So, before I get to the more emotionally driven stuff I just wanna say something. I know what you’d think upon reading this, that it’s a bit dramz and “a bit much” but I can’t help it. When I’m feeling any emotion strongly I tend to think in quite descriptive and dramatic ways. Life is pretty good in general right now, my parents and I have a better relationship than ever now that we’re not under each other’s feet all the time so when we visit it just feels really good to catch up and enjoy the company. Job’s okay, though I’m beginning to feel like I need to get out. I love having my own place, it’s amazing, and now that the late shift is no longer a thing, I can get into a routine and do more of the things I wanted to as well as shift that grumpiness I had surrounding the late shift.

Also, I know it’s extremely unlikely you’ll ever read this since I don’t think you know of this website currently and may not ever find the link in any of my available profiles, but here we go…

You left over 6 months ago, 5th June 2015. I remember it so well. It’s been a hugely difficult 6 months, most of all for you having to bear the brunt of all my mood swings, from being okay and supportive and loving, to being angry, lonely and despairing. I know it may seem dramatic, but honestly, you are so centred in my mind and life. I love you more than I ever could have imagined, the feeling was almost overwhelming and was the most incredible thing I’ve experienced. It still is. I think about you every day, from the moment I wake right up until I get into bed and go to sleep. But now, after 6 months, there’s another date that won’t be leaving my mind anytime soon, 7th December 2015. It was an emotional day, I heard the best thing in the 6 months that you left, that you still loved me, and that you had considered coming back on occasion but, due to your circumstance, you were unable to make that decision. I understand. I do. And I don’t feel angry or bitter that you do. Just sad. Just upset that two people so in love and so compatible have to be apart. As stupid as it is, I have to wait. I have to see if you come back. I can’t, just can’t let go of you because you are so perfect, so amazing, so beautiful.

But I also said goodbye to you. I feel that I’m just bringing you pain and grief, something which will prevent you from doing what you need to do and being successful in it. It’s killing me. I can’t stand it. It’s like losing you all over again. Knowing I’ll never see you again, or hold you again or even hear your voice or witness your smile. Nothing. None of it. The woman I love, want a future with, want to devote myself to and spend my time making happy. You’re gone. More than likely for good. Just know that I love you, and miss you. Today was difficult for me, more so than other days.


I can’t take it. I can’t fucking take it. It’s like I’m out of breath every time I think of you, my thoughts racing to meet completion before it’s too late, before you’ve slipped away completely, to connect with you through will and energy before the channel’s closed. It’s as though the wellness of my body is being drawn away, into the heart, to soften the damage, my body numb to all else, my heart aching and straining under the weight, my mind frantically trying to piece all of it together lest the grief bubbling below detonate and send everything into meltdown. I don’t know what to do. What to do next? It’s not like life stops and my little pleasures are still there, I still smile and laugh and do my best to think positively about my current situation and future. I’m doing so well with my depression these days. But losing you is something I don’t know how to cope with, or if I can cope with it. I can’t move on and I don’t want to. Move on from the perfect woman that I’m in love with to what? I’m happier on my own than with someone that’s not you. And that’s how it will stay until something drastic changes.


Like you coming back to me.


Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

Admittedly, the only reason I played this game is because I ordered a PS4 and this was the game that came bundled with the console; typically paying money to pick up and play any recent Metal Gear Solid game is as appealing to me as the prospect of completing an exceptionally busy day at a courtroom note-transcribing job while being forced to utilise my PC peripherals with only my tongue. It took me a couple of days upon receiving said console and bundled game to work up the enthusiasm and excitement to actually play it.

So started the 30 minute window within which the game has to impress me and either make me see it through to the end and add it to the exclusive and short roster of games I consistently play or go on about, or be instantly submitted to the trade-in service in favour of making another over-priced next gen game minutely more affordable. Now the reason I give games 30 minutes to impress is because anything less isn’t really a fair opportunity for a game to flaunt and captivate and any longer is allowing it far too long a time in a form of media and escapism meant to enthral and immerse us safely away from our mundane existences in a world where both time and attention span are in considerably short supply. I regret to summarise my opinion of this game now: it bored the shit out of me. You should not be forced to idly watch an uneventful sequence wherein all you can do is lethargically look around with the analog stick before you reach the main menu and are able to press Start. The pre-start menu activities should either get you so psyched to play the game with a hugely over-the-top cinematic of sorts or be nice and short and dump you straight to the aforementioned menu so you can play the actual game. I personally have never witnessed this approach to travelling towards the start menu, so I was willing to accept it as an attempt to set the scene and give the game context, and duly watched the activities surrounding the hospital bed I was bound to and felt eager to see what would unfold upon pressing Start.

It turns out it’s more of the same but this time interspersed with uninventive dialogue, constant overly-dramatic reactions to the little information that’s directed firmly at you, followed by irritating fade outs that simply make the whole scene feel disjointed and hints to use the analog stick to look around that agitated me beyond belief, as there was nothing of value to fucking look at outside of the view we were centred to by default. The game then tries to engage us by allowing us to customise our appearance after revealing the actual appearance of the character with some bullshit and contrived reason as to why we get to change it, before showing us that the choices we just made don’t actually take effect and were a waste of time and care. Immediately following this is an incredibly cliché attempt at building suspense by having an obscured character garrotting someone in the background, following the cue of the only face with a voice up to that point stating that we need to protect me from people that want to hurt me. Said face with voice then proceeds to be murdered. Then some bullshit intervention occurs from another patient in the same ward to save us and we, as the protagonist, are finally allowed some more direct involvement in movement in the form of single analog stick movement control along a linear path at a forced and agonised crawling pace. During this arduous section, interrupted by occasional pointless snippets of dialogue from our arse-flashing companion, is a sprinkling of the most sodding annoying attempts by our character to consistently try and fail to get to their feet on the least stable objects accessible in the room met each and every time with the predictable and inevitable slamming to the floor followed by grizzly man grunts of pain and discomfort.

I get the feeling I’m meant to feel sorry for our character but I couldn’t give less of a toss for people that have no common sense or survival instincts. Maybe it’s a lack of understanding of the story leading up to this point or an unreasonable intolerance of someone having woken up from a coma, something I have no ability to understand or fully empathise with as I’ve never experienced it, but it feels like such amateur dramatics from a play at my secondary school that I just can’t engage with it. Any scenes of moderate action again felt contrived and cliché or too obscure and abstract at this point to have any impact and I literally couldn’t believe that after a solid 25 minutes of “playing” this game from the moment of looking around the hospital ward we start in to the current point of crawling around the corridors about 50 feet from there that I gave up. I just turned it off, turned to my computer and used an online trade-in service to get some cash for it and returned to my Steam library. I’m sure many people will say it gets good after the introduction but the introduction is meant to sell the game to us, get us invested in the story or struggle of the character and excite with glimpses of development and gameplay that we can look forward to. This game is attempting to sell us the premise on reputation and self-indulgent, pompous storytelling that is actually hugely inept and shallow.

Dealing with Heart Ache – Part 3

Even the most incessant and articulate logophile could not contain within limitless words the amount that I miss you. You never stray from my thoughts, not even for a fleeting moment, and there is not compelling enough a prospect to dissuade me from retention of memories of us. My only wish is that you come back, though it will seemingly never come to fruition. In place of this, I can only pray to dream of you to once again feel the warmth of your embrace, inhale the allure of your scent and bare witness to the beauty of your form in the realism and splendour of my ethereal imaginings.

Dealing with Heart Ache – Part 2

As you turned your back on my enamoured gaze, I was left bereft and crushed by the absence of your embracing presence, no thought could beguile the sense of mutual loss we felt, yet in a bout of misplaced anger and angst I offered myself to the harlots and harpies in an attempt to assuage my hollow body, but before I could be tainted by the mark of regret through indecision, the potential of even the most infinitesimal magnitude that I might once again feel your warmth made me view my fleeting intention with abhorrence and resolve to remain true to me, and to you

Dealing with Heart Ache – Part 1

You showed me that I could rise to the level of the Seraphim, through my self-inflicted damnation, when I thought that not even the sirens of the underworld deserved the plight of my company, you then sought my buried strength and wrought it into the armour that now encases me and sharpened my dulled awareness to fend off the myriad monsters wearing reality as a guise.