I'm real sorry to take the Lord's name in vain and all. But the last few hours have been a little tough.

Ruth is my everything. She's my favourite person and the girl I'm most proud of in one gorgeous package. She's my sounding board - when I'm angry or upset or confused I talk to her, and she tells me which bits are reasonable and which bits aren't. And then we sit down and eat chocolate and we sleep and in the morning it's all nice and clear. She's my best friend.

She's also not fucking well here.

I suppose that at some point in the past I have needed her more than I did tonight. I just can't remember when.

Hannah kissed Rob. Rob kissed Hannah. I don't know which way round it was. I don't care. All I know is, they kissed on Saturday morning in my house and they kissed on Sunday morning as I slept next to them. It wasn't just a drunken mistake. Because when drunken mistakes happen, you tell people. You say "Hey, I'm sorry, it was a drunken mistake." And even if you don't, it doesn't bloody well happen again. Drunken mistakes happen once. If they don't then it means something more.

Rob is my ex-boyfriend. Hannah is best friend. Okay, my other best friend but that does not make this any better.

The following passage is taken from my last but one entry, written just yesterday. "I always loved watching him sleep. I loved resting my head on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing and the gentle beating of his heart, and watching his face move gently as he dreamed and imagining that it was I who filled his breaths and heart and dreams. Last night I could feel him next to me and it was all so familiar - the warmth from his body, the angle of his legs, the sound of his breathing - and I wanted so much to rest my head on his chest and fall asleep in his arms."

Evidently I was not the only one watching him sleep. Evidently I was not the only one wishing to rest her head on his chest and fall asleep in his arms.

I feel cheated, because they left it so long to tell me. I feel cheated because Hannah sent me several texts saying things like "But he thinks I'm a freak". I feel cheated because they didn't tell me straight away. I feel cheated because she wrote her entry in tears and she has no fucking right to tears. I feel cheated because it should have been me he was kissing.

In all honesty, I wouldn't mind them getting together. Sure it'd be strange for a few weeks but we'd all adjust. I just can't stand the thought of him sleeping with her. I can't stand the thought of her losing her virginity to him, because then when we're 30 and sitting around at a party talking about when we lost our virginity she'll talk about him. This hang up is quite obviously because he wasn't my first and I desperatly wish he had been.

And I don't want him to go to her when he has to cry. I can live without his kisses and his sex and his smile in the morning, but his tears are mine and still want to be the only one who holds him while he cries.

If she gets his tears, then I really will feel cheated.

< - >

* the marks of memories forgotten
* wasting emotions, over again
* intentions, and such
* nothing unusual, nothing's changed - just a little older, that's all (damien rice : amie)
* now I understand! It doesn't make sense because it isn't supposed to