Okay, where was I?...
Mid-June, the Prince's Trust week. What more can I say about it? It was brilliant fun, free, I got to meet new people and learn something about business - a world I had no clue about before I started The Writing People with the guys. So that was good, I got to feel like I was doing something, a day job, for a week - all the while still going to the Job Centre and being unemployed. It was nice, and convinced me that what I was doing was what I wanted to do - which is always a win.
I should mention at this point, that I had managed to drag HB to my volunteering many months earlier and we had been given the opportunity to make a Creative Writing Course. She had given up a Summer Temp Job at St Fagans so she could work on it with me. But more on that in a bit...
Anyway, Prince's Trust stuff down, now we were given mentors to work with until we had succeeded in our goals. And mine is a brilliant man, interested in Creative Writing, who seemed to analyse me like a therapist and decided that I write to escape, but also the help others try and escape. He also came to the conclusion that the only reason I do something was to help others, and that if I was running from something, or whatever, then I should probably stop running and face the thing I'm running from. It wasn't until now that I know why I'm running. But anyway, the long and short of it was, I'm to complete and send away a completed manuscript of Real Magic by 17th August - wish me luck.
Anyway...skipping ahead the week leading up to the 20th July - Cherrybelly and Pill's joint birthday Masquerade BBQ. It was good fun, HB invited me over to watch Avatar the Last Airbender, and we baked birthday cakes for Cherrybelly and Pill. The whole thing took a grand total of two days, I stayed over, and many cartoons were watched, things were baked, and xbox was played - mainly on our joint character Stuart, a Khajit in Skyrim.
The Friday, I drove to Pill's, where the party was taking place, after picking up GG at the station - a pleasant surprise. And yes, I can drive now - though I don't own a car.
We get there, all suited and booted, masks on, and party on.
I don't remember anything. I drank too much and ate too little, but there are two memories I have.
1. HB and I were arguing in Pill's dinning room. I seem to remember defending myself against a statement she said - that I had never asked her out when it mattered...
When it mattered? WHEN IT MATTERED?! Every time I asked it mattered, as far as I knew. ARGH! Hence the argument. It's quite good to note that HB and I didn't really argue, so it was odd.
2. Much later on, HB came and sat with me on one of the sofas and she cried on my shoulder saying she didn't feel the same, and it was sad (as in boo hoo) that she did because of the way I felt. I don't know, it could have been guilt, sadness, or just frustration. (Here's where everything in my head gets over thought, as it always does - but it's better I say it here rather than to someone else, otherwise I'd be carted away by the men in white coats.)
Anyway I spent most of the rest of the night outside, after the girls had dragged HB away upstairs so she didn't cry in front of people - ah yes, both occurrences happened in front of a dozen people or so. Perhaps I should ask them all what happened and piece together what happened. I even tried going to see HB, but I was warded away by TAG and Pill, both saying that it was a bad idea. I don't know, are my instincts that bad?!
I drove HB home the next day, music on and in silence. I don't know, it felt like silence, it might not have been. We shared a nice hug on her doorstep and I thought everything I had just been a memory that I had made up in my drunken state.
We texted a few times in the days that followed, but then came the silence after she spent an evening with Dark Horse.
I don't know what they discussed, or even if they did, but the silence definitely followed the Dark Horse trip.
It's been three weeks and I've seen her a grand total of twice, once with people, the second time without.
With people, barely two words said to one and other, but we were civil - mainly because we had to be. There was even a part of me that hoped she would offer me a lift home in her empty car as she watched me walk to the station.
Without people, barely two words said to one and other. On Saturday, I got to have the car for the first time since Pill's, and I went to HB's to see if I could apologize, or just talk to her.
Before this whole thing we had spoken almost every day and met up two, three, four times a week. So you can imagine how tough the change would be - well it's been tough for me.
The apology didn't go well. And I've tried twice on this occasion. I wrote one down, because I'm much better on paper than speaking in person. Anyway the paper one went much like this:
Actually, I think that's too personal, even for this. Either way, I said sorry for a degree-worth of mistakes and hurt, and so on and so forth. It still goes unanswered.
The in person sorry went a little like a dying seagull trying to crawl out of the oil spill covered beach away from the ever approaching tide.
I've talked too long now, and I've still not managed to say anything I need to say, not need. I want to say, just to get them out of my mind - or at least somewhere else. They're driving me slightly mental.
I don't see any point to most things at the moment. The Writing People involves HB, the Creative Writing Course involves HB, even Real fucking Magic involves HB, the job seeking never goes well, everyone's asking me what's going on? how am I feeling? Heard from HB yet?
It's too much.
Hi, my name's Tom, and I've had a crush on my best friend for four years. My name's Tom, and three weeks ago, I lost my best friend.
Carpe diem, until next time bloggers...
P.S. I don't think the amount of John Cusack films I've been watching recently are helping - though they are brilliant.