Send in the clowns

Right, so now I'm ill again, with the same mystery illness, for the fourth time. I've effectively been sacked by my job, after I resigned. I've managed to fall into another trap, I've managed to make a poor girl fall hopelessly in love with me. I've got no emotion. I've no confidence. I've lost inportant friends. One of my friends is on life support in a coma. So yeah, it's errrr... Not looking great. I've no idea if and when I'll get better. So, I'm another year on, further away from what I planned, and completely and utterly miserable. I don't think I'd be too gutted to not wake up tomorrow. As long as death simply meant death, and that I literally didn't exist anywhere at all, and no concept or consciousness, then I'm sound for all that, because my life a nightmare. So now I've got no health, no job. One of my best mates hates me, my first ex girlfriend is now with my ex best friend who bans her from contacting any of us. The only girl I ever loved is with some geek, and it turns out she didn't love me but simply needed someone to look after her mental health. And Liverpool are shit. And I have some dirty ear infection. I've spent 4 grand to look worse than I did before, and I absolutely hate myself, both in appearance and personality. So yeah, not all that bothered of my body throws in the towel. I could get up, mount some unfounded challenge to rebuild my life, but, I can't, because I actually can't go anywhere because I can't see properly and it fucks up my head. Can't explain why it's so debilitating. But it is. Can't find love coz apparently my subconscious feels the need to protect itself from the humiliation of this year. So yeah, the record books will have me down as only ever loving some girl who hated me, used me, tried to change me, and then humiliated me. Sound. What a result that is. What a roaring success I've been. I used to fight for titles and stuff. Now I am rooted to rock bottom. I've been to the motorway hill to stand and have time to myself and try to work things out, but all the while the racing traffic looks the most appealing fate. The temptation not to stand in the fast lane is a difficult resistance. I don't know if this is some kind of challenge or just pure bad luck, but, fine, you win, I lose. I can't cope. I can't do this illness again. I don't want to do this once a year either for the rest of my life. I'm just gonna live in fear of some mystery illness that completely fucks my life up, destroys me, and I lose my job and social life as a result. Nah. Rather not be here to worry about all that crap. It's not like I've got kids to worry about or leave behind, or a partner. Ok, I've got family but then it was only three years ago I was abandoned by them, so yeah, I'm sure it's recoverable. But I'm done. This is a pointless struggle. If I haven't even got my health then it's out of my hands and I can do nothing. So it'll go one of two ways, I'll get better or I'll end up drinking myself to death, coz that looks like the path I'm on. I wish this was a joke, or attention seeking, but it ain't. I can't cope nor do I wish to watch myself be ravaged and slowly fade to nothing like I did two years ago, and I'm not going to. End of. The control is still mine.

It's dawned on me

I don't ever want another war. I don't ever want to hate myself. I don't ever want to be comparing myself to better yesteryears. I don't ever want to be disappointed with myself again. I don't ever want to make the same mistakes. All I want, is a bit of fun, to not feel too bad about myself. To play a lot of football. To meet a nice girl. To go wild sometimes. To make a little bit of money to build a future. That's all.

I cannot lie, and I cannot pretend

Ok, so I can't ignore what had happened. I've lost a couple of important friends, I have created a new problem for myself regarding my image. I am now not as successful as a year ago, or two years ago. That's the truth. I cannot lie. I am depressed. This is why every day seems so hard. This is why I'm less able, less motivated. I don't want to sit and cry about it. I really don't. But it's so bizarre. Other than people, and how insecure I am about how I look, there's not a lot else to complain about. Every now and then, in isolated moments, I do very well. There's a lot of psychological damage I need to address. I can't lie that my confidence is in tatters. But little things happens to improve that. I won't be young forever and I don't want to waste time. Too much time has been wasted. I still have crazy moments as well. I still have a faint belief in fate, especially after the bizarre coincidences that have taken place recently. It's beautiful that it was last week that football made me feel alive again for the first time in forever. I hadn't played properly in so long, and just like that I was back to my best. That exhilarated me. I've always had football to come rescue me. But last night, I got injured instead. It should not be too long but it shows how fickle everything is right now. It's still strange to me how good it looks from a third person perspective, but for me, this is failure. I am very very lucky to have come out of bad situations before, extremely lucky. I need to work a way out of this one.

The hole keeps getting deeper and deeper to climb out of

Well, this season is shit. There's no other relevant way of defining and summarising it. I haven't the squad I want. My gamble hasn't paid off and instead has managed to worsen things. This is ridiculous. I can't lie and say I'm happy, I'm not. This is a terrible era, but yet I can't, like I could before, know exactly what's making it definitively bad. If anything, I'm fulfilling most things I said I would. I have money, I have a future, I fuck girls, I write stories, i seemingly have everything either in my life or ahead. But it's worth nothing. It's odd, but it all seems so unequivocally pointless and meaningless. I'm older, I'm colder, I'm damaged. It seems like the innocence of the time has dissipated, and instead the darkness of reality has set in. I thought the illness would've hardened me, but it didn't. I remember running like a crazy little kid the day I scored a goal again with tears dry on their own blaring through my earphones. Even when things were dark and I was away from home there was still a naivety in me that believed in miracles. That last day of July 2012 when I managed to get everything done and metaphorically stay up, that was borderline magical, and it set me up for the best year of my life. I'm still so gutted I got ill when I did, I just wanted to hold out til the end of July at least. So now what, now I'm richer than then, more qualified, definitely home at last, live by my own rules, work in sport, and I feel like a failure, and my morale is abysmal. Absolutely abysmal. I think my blistered memories have soured the opportunity for new ones. There's no naivety in me anymore, my immaturity is fading. All I've left is my passion and my dreams. My humour hasn't left me either and that has carried me through. I think this year has shown me elements of myself I didn't think existed, or at least I didn't think would ever surface. I completely transformed. I lost everything that made me myself. I even smoked. And for me, that is horrific. That's one of the maxims I had installed in me, for nothing else as a symbolic reminder of my mum's loss. Breaking a promise, that cut me, I live my life by promises. I can only reiterate that I was backed in to a corner, that I read message after message that there was a campaign against me, but can I justify it to myself enough to forgive myself. Nah, not a chance. I didn't even forgive myself for getting into that situation. Unbelievable to think that a conversation had right at the end of 2013 and how things unfolded in 2014, would then result in a complete opposite in 2015. This isn't what I had planned. I've wasted so much time, and now it seems I'm going to have to waste more. Nothing is coming to save me like before. No luck, no epiphany, no money from nowhere, no incredible girl, no miracle. As much as I'd love to lay flat, breathe out and give up, I cannot. I have to live in the mentality that there is a small grain of hope I can grow. I have to put my all into a plan that has little chance of success. If I don't, then it's going to turn bad, really really bad. I've come too far to simply write myself off now. But, it's going to take time, a lot of time. Years. I think I'm going to have to have my sabbatical at some point, then return only once I'm where I want to be at. What I'm going to do is going to be hard work, stressful, painful, and ultimately will probably fail. Regardless, I have to try.

Take On Me

I feel so scared, so utterly gripped and consumed by terror. The risks im taking here are so drastic it is unreal. I want to come home and resurrect what I had before. I can't believe that This is how everything has turned out. I really wish this didn't have to happen, but easter saturday showed exactly how vulnerable I could become, and I can never allow someone to ever again exploit my insecurities and as a result gain such control over me that I feel undeserving of any better. I nearly lost everything and it is only through a miracle that I somehow turned it all around. As tough as is like to appear, I know that this is just a representation ive implemented. I'm ok, but I know that the naive soft side of me is still very much intact. I hate the things I've had to do this year. To break promises made to both myself and others disgusts me, I am appalled that I had to turn into the kind of person that girl feared in order to stop her. I never wanted to do that, and I never dreamed circumstances would arise where that would become necessary. I'm almost ready to spark back into life, to become the person I want to be. If anything goes wrong, terribly wrong, then I can only protest that I did what I thought was best. Ironic really, if it did, then despite all my winning, she would win overall, she would get her wish and I'd disappear. There's only be one of us dancing around Chicagos then, and evidently not me. The worst part is I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for easter saturday, it'd all still be a maybe one day. It would be her influencing by setting me on this path, and I wouldn't want her to know that she ultimately was responsible somewhat, that she got her win and she could celebrate. Cocky of me, but I'm certain she won't read this, not only because there's been no views in the last 2 years. I think it's only me that knows this exists. Although this again is assuming, I'm assuming th views it has is me, I'm pretty confident, well, regardless, I'll never know. I've so much passion in me, so much desire, ive so much to write, so much to do, so much potential. I can do this. I have such energy within me, I've got so many plans, I know exactly how I'm going to accomplish anything. I've got a few years in me to live wild and crazy, one day I'll settle down but not until the perfect girl comes along, then it'll be all about supporting someone's else's campaign, hopefully my future son or daughter. When ive completed everything I want, I'll pass on my same passion and drive to their hopes and dreams. To raise a family in Berwick is a dream of mine. A boy named Alex, a girl named Alice or Emily. That's what I picture. But before that ive got stories to produce, scandals to uncover, the age old mystery to solve, football to be won, nights to be had, and adrenaline to fuel me. It's odd that whenever o truly believe my enemy is gone that they resurface. I wonder why it's still so prominent, I think that I just can't grasp how much I lost myself to her, and then can't understand the reasoning why. I think I could've forgiven anything. I don't have any ill feeling towards Jamie, none. It's odd because there was a time I thought I'd never deal with it. I could forgive her for setting that up. What I can never forgive in the callous way she told the broken ne to stick around, then lied, so obviously, and then sucked off the boy who kicked me in the head. That I can never forgive, I could've never done the same, if one of my friends had hit her, they'd find they were the ones at war with me. It's odd, even now I think I would intervene if she was ever in real danger, I couldn't see her get hit, a part of me remember the person she was years ago, and that part of me would never want her to get physically hurt. Wow, that's odd, how can that be when I hate her so much. I spose it's because it was that nearly time, when I nearly won everything. Whistle was as much the best era of my life as it was hers. I hope to exceed that. That and Pennywhistle will rival each other always. The two times I've been genuinely truly happy. But, that person disappeared, like Chris, the change was so drastic that there was nothing left of the person before. Why did it hit me so bad? Because like Chris I invested so much in that person, and in this case it was worse. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that she would try to destroy me like that. All the while I could say nothing, just being able to read from afar, knowing how meticulously she wanted to ruin my life. I did a lot, I really did, I didn't deserve that. I know that if I wasn't this strong now she would still be trying to destroy a weakened Tom, a me that couldn't and wouldn't fight back. I bet she regrets that. I know it's just because of what I know that I am safe. Without that, I expect I wouldn't hear the end of any of this. At least when Leigh left it was over. I got my wish and he was no longer a force in my life, this differs, still here. Last night confirms for me the person I still am, still happy go lucky, still naive enough to believe in miracles, still dreaming the same things I dreamt at 15. It also confirms how ridiculous my life is, just what were the odds on that, just picking up sonething. From the pharmacy became a complete farce, just how did that happen. It's still like a movie, still written. I still want to see liverpool win that title, I still want Gerrard to win it somehow. Do one thing every day that scares you. My chapters, they're going live. I want to test the potential of my pen.

Closing in? Or as far away as ever?

There isn't too much left of this season. One incredibly important day left. One day that's hopefully more important 5 days into August. I should know on the 23rd whether everything will go ahead as planned. A promise is a promise, I intend on fully implementing everything I said I would. Who would've thought that the horrific parts of this season would've influenced all this change. Writing about that night in the hospital 7 and a half years ago reminds me that the worst people in your life can ellicit the best changes. The same thing appears to have happened this year. If anything, I should thank both. Without them I wouldn't be on the path I'm on now. I'd be content with mediocrity. My reinvention is slowly visible, I'm hitting the gym more and more often, working harder. All I have to do is remember why and the motivation is there. That chapter helped so much, I realise now why I couldn't cheat, couldn't reciprocate what was happening to me, couldn't use the worst insults until my family were brough into this. It's because I could never become him, could never use the same methods as what he did to destroy this family, couldn't betray my morals because they are based on what I hated about him. I no longer regret the fact that I didn't get revenge by cheating on her, instead I thrive on that I didn't, thrive even more that she believes I did. It means she'll understand how I felt, to believe that your whole world was a lie. Her's wasn't, but the throwbacks and other hints create an illusion of a different Tom. Pretty stupid to believe it if I'm honest, just when would I have had time to cheat, she was Velcro. Still, the fact remains that she must sit and comprehend that it was all a joke on her, that I was laughing the whole time. The opposite is true and the joke was on me, but she'll be devastated thinking that she wasted her time and her feelings. I know that because it's exactly how I felt and the odds are a thousand to one that she'd ever come across this page again. Nobody's memory is like mine, I doubt she remembers this even exists, it's not exactly updated regularly. As mentioned before, there is not long of the season left, and as of August, I hope I have done enough to facilitate progress, and then it's out of my hands, just as it always was going to be. The people around me are amazing and I have more of them than I have had for years, old faces have resurfaced this year, as well as new ones within the last few months. This is it, the battle back to the top has either reached a crucial pivotal moment, or horrid and despairing anti-climax will occur. Right now, I can change nothing. I must wait.

If you don't like something, change it

Probably the best piece of advice I've been given, Karlie's maxim has inspired me to reinvent myself, to completely overhaul certain aspects of my life that have held me back. This new chapter in my life is hopefully going somewhere. If the plans I've put in place come to fruition, then it should culminate in the most successful period of my life. Arguably this already is. I've more friends, more money, more qualified, and more successful with girls than ever before. There's just a few pieces of the puzzle that I've yet to find, but I've done what I can to arrange that. It's the waiting I can't stand, the waiting game is agonising. In 6 months, I should be unrecognisable. A good unrecognisable. By christmas I hope to look exactly how I've always hoped, to weigh what I've always hoped, to work where I've always hoped, and to have all the things in my life I've always hoped. I nearly did that last year and the year before. Only illness stopped me in 2013. 2014 just wasn't enough, that illness had slowed me down too much, and she was holding me back from moving on to something better. If only I'd taken My chances I had, I owed no loyalty to her. I spose hindsight is brilliant, I didn't know that back then. But I can't keep re-reading the last chapter of my life. She's not threat to me anymore, she possesses no emotional or physical hold over me anymore, and the people who could are now friends with me. The worst thing is that the kid is actually alright. I genuinely feel bad for him that he was dragged into everything. How bizarre. I won't make the same mistakes again, let's face it, I wasn't perfect, but I did try. This time, I'll make sure I don't ever make someone feel undervalued. I'd like to think I'm already doing that. In a way there's a positive to consider from not winning in 2013. I would've had her to thank for it, that would be terrible, she would've soured the memory, she already has soured many memories. I never believed I could hate anyone more than Leigh, but never has someone come so close to destroying me. It's odd to consider that the one person who should've been closest to me, who should've been an absolute banker to be on my side, is the one who would become my ultimate enemy. A lesson learned or an unfortunate mistake? I doubt I'll ever know, I'm just glad I dodged the bullet when I did. What the fuck would've happened to me had Easter not happened. Would I have gotten worse, stopped living my own life completely. When I get back to the top, the previous chapter will become irrelevant, and the memory of it will fade.

Girl, I'm all cried out over youuuuuuuuuuuuu

Well, the last 3 months have been eventful, they've been ridiculous. I honestly never thought I'd recover so well or so fast. Fuck me, I remember those first two weeks I just cried and hurt. Grand National was hard, some nights were harder. Wasn't until the station night that the humiliation just subsided. Then befriending my enemy just undid all that damage. That was my favourite night, seeing her fail in her diligently fought campaign to destroy my life. The look on her face tore away any hold she had over me. I came back to life that night. It just didn't hurt anymore, and she lost relevance. Sure, she was a pain in the arse for a few weeks still, but emotionally, her grasp had been unhinged. Those photos, how hilarious, how brilliant, how very apt. My night was made all the better for those photos, and the whole episode has inspired my writing, written in a style much better conveyed than explained here. But I don't need to explain, this is only for me, only for reference, only so I can reflect one day. My chapters are being written with pace, and they're decent, my writing has improved dramatically. It's nice to take a break and regress to this colloquial manner of writing. In a return to my metaphor, I'm sick of how heavily she dominated this season. Chris was supposed to be the enemy, not her, how odd that the night I tried to complete the proposal that it set this whole ordeal in motion. How odd that I quit her previous job for her, triggering her next employment and inadvertently creating the circumstances for this year's events. I'll never understand how I lost myself so badly, at Christmas I was still me, I didn't tolerate any of her bullshit. By January, I was a shadow of myself, and by April, my personality was in a coma. But, it helped, it inspired me, I don't think anything could've motivated me more than her desperate attempts to ruin my life. How brilliant was Gerrard's metaphorical influence on my life. I don't think I've ever received more praise than for those photos, I don't think I've ever received more hate from her side for that. I thrived on that. Snelly always said no-one would win the battle with me, he was right, even if I didn't believe it for most of the time. Carousel was unbelievable, I now understand why she didn't want me to do that show, the buzz I got from that show was incredible, and to sing You'll Never Walk Alone as Gerrard made his last showing for Liverpool, it was poignant yet brilliant. I was lost in that moment. Then my degree, to somehow achieve a first after it looked certain I would leave with nothing. That was special. Then the atonement. At Sainsburys I got further in one night than I had in all those months years ago. How ridiculous that the clairvoyant I spoke to predicted most of these things, how scarily accurate she was with names and details. I don't know if I believe her, all I know is that she's been right about nearly everything. Where now, I'm on the cusp of achieveing everything. Only two things stand between me, one is booked, but it's not in my hands that it certainly happens. If it does, I will complete a long awaited promise and I will be ten times better than before. I'm happy again at last, but I feel like I'm stagnating, there is still much more to achieve. But it depends on the decisions of other as much as my own. The promise still remains the same. The title, to get back to the top.

This has fallen to pieces

Now what?! Just where do I go from here?! I have no idea where im going or what I am doing. My life has gone from top to bottom in the space of a few hours. How have I become this mirror image of what she was a year ago, how does this work? Surely I can just be me from a year ago, want to be alone, be happy to be alone, thrive to be alone. I'm stuck in limbo, and I hate it. Despite everything that has ever happened to me, this appears to be the hardest challenge. I foresaw it. I listened to songs that echoed the future, now how quick am I gonna get up, just how am I gonna get up?!

What's the use of wund'rin, if the ending will be sad

It was written, it was prophecised, it was inevitable . That's girls's betrayal has culminated in the end of us, and in the continuation of a war I should have never had to have fought. It hurts, it hurts more than anything ever has. The only good that can be extracted from this is my mindset, and the choices I've taken to implement the plan ive had for so many years and promised myself I would implement. It will never happen again. I'll never let a girl abuse me like that again, and never allow her to allow others to abuse me. I have been ridiculed and humiliated as a result of her actions, yet I allowed it to happen. I wish I had fought back, I wish I had used all my rage and channeled that into destroying them. I expect I will regret that, the most. I will have to have the image of that boy's foot repeatedly kicking my eye, with the thought occupying it that he was only there because she led him there, only there because she knew it would hurt me. He supplied the kick, but she may as well have put the shoe on his foot for him. That image will replay in my mind forever, the eye that was torn open before was this time torn open emotionally. Only my right eye will see the present, my left will now see the past.To be hurt the worst by the one I love the most, what greater emotional agony exists above that? I suspect none.

Well aware

I'm well aware she doesn't care anymore, so aware and so sure that I'm not afraid to write, she wouldn't care enough to ever search this blog again. How can she believe she can just have her single life and expect me to still be around when she eventually wants me, everyone thinks that's crazy. It is. I'm going to destroy to flaws, and my doubts and my self consciousness, and once I've done that I'll be unstoppable. I have an unbelievable set of people around me, and she will regret this, I would've given her everything, I guarantee no man would ever love her as much, ever treat her as good as I would've. Instead I will wait the time out, get over this, and eventually find someone who will appreciate that, treat another girl as a princess, offer her all my love and protection, get back to the top with her. I won't lie and pretend I don't love her, I'm besotted with her, but I won't be taken for a mug, I won't sit and waste my seasons while she enjoys some teenage fantasy of lust and promiscuity. I will move on, and I will find a missing jigsaw piece to my puzzle and build myself again. Perhaps I am wrong and she will find happiness, regardless, I can only fight for myself, I cannot change her heart. I hurt and I cry, even as I am writing, but I have been so low before that I will not allow someone to do this to me again. I will use this to motivate myself, to become the best I can be, and I will laugh in the future at this time now and wonder how it could have meant so much. She will look and she will see me at my happiest, without her, and she will see what she could've had. I love her and right now I do not see how I can get over it, but logic tell me I will. I regret ever meeting her, I would've rather not known this happiness than have known and had it torn. Now it is killing me, tearing me up and stripping me of my identity, I don't want this feeling, I hate it.

It's finally relevant

Song of the month, June 2006, finally relevant, terribly, horribly, unexpectedly, hurtfully, dangerously, undeniably, relevant.

Rebuild

I've been sent back to 2012 levels, 2012 levels of confidence, of performances, of value, of shame, of humiliation. I thought I'd worked hard enough to ensure that such a dark depression could never resurface. I was wrong. I must rebuild myself, but this time 10 times better, stronger, faster. I need to be more intuitive, more dynamic, braver, harder, colder. Colder, that's what will save me. I'm going to follow through with the original plan. The master plan, the plan to achieve everything. I'm going to keep the November 12th promise, I live by that promise. I'm going to rise up from the ashes of defeat and emerge a better me than ever before. I know talk is cheap, and where I am right now represents the pillars of sand I managed to build. They fell, easily, in one night. "Use your body, in every way that you can, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own." My body, my face, everything, it just change. Once I've done this I'll be able to get back to the top, and I'll make sure that I'm never torn down so easily again. Look at this Tom. Look at this every time you have second thoughts, every time you want to give up, every time you think you've made it without executing this plan. You must know that is temporary, this plan is the only real way to win. I'm talking to myself, my past to my future. Remember me, remember this Tom and the pain and humiliation I felt. Remember me. Replay that night and the two that followed, and remember the pain. I trust myself which means I trust you, my future self. Go out and do what was always promised, please do not give up. Please do not stop. I am more powerful than I realise and you must remember this. Read this when you've accomplished the plan, and cheer, go out into Berwick and celebrate like Gerrard does, use that allegory, win that title. I know you can achieve this, so do it, remember, the fear of failure is illogical. It seems strange writing to myself, but I know it's the only way you'll remember. Remember this Tom, make me the last to suffer the issues that hold me back. Please don't fail me. I know you can win.

Maybe I am from the future after all

I'll never be able to encapsulate how I feel write now, no words I could ever amass from deep thinking or journalistic skill could accurately convey the horror I feel right now. It's a new pain I've become all too familiar with, although this time it's at its zenith, and I wish I could flick it's switch and turn it off as quickly as it was activated. The worst thing is the allegory for it that I played out, the worst thing is I was right, the worst thing is all of it. I can change nothing. I'm broken, the inner emotional workings have ceased, they have become overwhelmed and don't allow me to feel emotion, only broken, only empty. She was everything, a folly I implemented, a disaster I planned with meticulous strategy. I hate her, I hate the subtle way she began to define the importance in my life, I hate that her lies became my dreams. I hate that my humiliation was compounded by her, the one single entity that could undo all that is wrong, yet caught in the paradox that it was her creation. I don't hope he's worth it, I hope he fails, and that his failures lead her to destruction, that maybe he might represent such besotted importance to her that his betrayal could replicate my pain. It's untouchable this pain, it's somewhere in the stomach but everywhere at once as well. She has infiltrated my empire and tried to bring its biggest admirer to his knees. But I won't kneel, and I wouldn't let her escape unpunished. Her fears exposed and taunted, I have torn down the clothes pegs that held her worries, horrors and concerns high above in the sky, I have unclipped them and bought them down to earth, down to reality. Does she hurt half as much? Not half a chance.

I replay the narrative in my head, I show up with my only motive to rescue her, and she just blanks my request for her to leave. The boy I'm past kid about escorts us out and tries to smooth talk me, my eyes are swelling with anger and disappointment, the look of a loose cannon is etched across me, they can see it. She jokes that it's all a laugh, the drugs, the getting off, and it's all a lie, even the source of the drugs is a lie. I know it's him, no random guy gives out drugs, no-one sells drugs in clubs outside London. My dejection turns to humiliation and I see her skip back inside with them, her voice is fresh and full. I come back to attempt the rescue again, this time she's colder, she tells me no, she tell the bouncer I'm the jealous ex. I ring her parents and after my mates successfully talk the two boys into honest fear, I leave her to deal with the remnants of her mistakes. There's more to come, she still attempts to see the boys, that boy, the dangerous one. I jog a mile in the Arctic breeze to secure money to save her, all the while she's kissing him, dreaming of bedding him, I'm unaware but oh so sure. Then at mine the lies continue, and she bed hoow back to me to continue the fascade and leave me imprisoned in a web of lies, a web that's untangaling and is made more obvious by her accidental hints and mistakes. Her phone, it reveals not paranoia because you're not paranoid if you're right. She's trying to leave me, she's been kissing him, she has feelings for him, she doesn't want to be back with me. She still lies, and my head goes, and I cast her out, permanently. All the while she lies until the cover of a phone call gives her the confidence, and the cheek of her, she didnt want to hurt me. Still the prospect lies of our nothingness relationship, one that permits and encourages affairs and justifies them, how convinient. One day we can return, but not until feelings fade, if they ever fade. And I am left with nothing, just a chance at nothing and a bag full of hurt feelings and future suspicions. Why should I allow her the chance to destroy me again, she's strong now but I know she could be weak again, then she'd want me, but i don't want to be a medicine, a tool used for retaining her self preservation, something that keeps her calm and safe, I want more than that. I bet he laughs and laughs and laughs, he not only got the girl, but convinced the girl to laugh and laugh laugh at me. Promises are cast aside when fleeting feelings come into play, and he knows she wants him, and she knows she wants him, and I know she doesn't want me because he's fresh and exciting and new. But I am not finished, I have flaws and imperfections, but I have plans, plans from long ago that have resurfaced and rooted themselves in my ambition. I can be ten times better, ten times stronger, ten times quicker. It's hard but possible, and it's only gets closer and closer the more the situation deteriorates. How will she be remembered when the time has passed and her legacy in my existence is up for review. The girl who brought me back to the top? Or the girl who made the ultimate betrayal? The girl who hurt me more than anyone else? I want this kid to hurt, or do I? Should I not let this thing have her, it can't last, it won't last. Should I move on and find something different, someone safe, someone I know can fill the fresh made hole in my emotion yet safe enough to know they won't vacate it. How can you hate a man who is willing to take an unfaithful girl, shouldn't you pity him. He's aware, he knows, but then it dawns on me, he doesn't want her like I want her, she's an easy shag he thinks but he won't get that. All the while this happens I could be off into a new chapter and creating better times for me to savour. I know it's unrealistic, but I know also that after two ops, a gym and a lot of money that I will be invincible. I have the potential, I should fufil it and let her suffer for her errors. This night is impossible to forget so why start trying, instead remember the hurt and the pain and how you can't ever let that happen again. Deconstruct. Take away emotion from sex, have fun. Jump from girl to girl even if the standards drop, one good'un will come along for keeps, but don't ever let her close enough to destroy you like that, keep enough distance to full cement your position. It hurts right now but it will get better, I will get better, and then the last laugh will be with me. No player is bigger than the club.

Soon, that's when

I'm alive again, I have been since November 2013, over a few days I just woke up and felt better and then a little bit more better and then that was it, alive again. It took me 'til January to return to normal, things were more psychologically more demanding that I had anticipated, then I scored that first goal, and it hit me, I'm alive, I really am. I dipped for a week in March and a few in September/October. What is my health problem? I don't know? Psychological after all that? I'd take that. Gerrard was still my metaphor, didn't he burst into life again. Now he's leaving, I hope he's not  still my metaphor. My goals have changed, or rather they have regressed. I'm selfishly seeking more, I want to be back at the top. I have good people around me, a good group that still retains the spine of my old one.