A pocket full of mumbles, such are promises.

Nothing works. No distraction seems to keep my mind focussed. I can’t concentrate on anything for longer than 5 minutes and I can’t make this stupid feeling go away; and I’m not even sure what it is! Is it because I know there is never going to be anything between Nic and me? Maybe. Is it because I can’t reconnect with Jess, I know that I’m being a total arse to live with, and things seem to be spiralling inexorably towards one decision – separation?

One thing is for sure, I do not want to spend the rest of my life feeling like this – nothing resolving, nothing better coming along, just an endless cycle of waking and sleeping and putting off the inevitable feeling awful in between. And I don’t want to be the author of the agony I would put Jess through. And then there is the practicality of splitting up, of dividing all that we have, losing everything we’ve built up over the last 8 years. And it fills me with dread. But at the same time, I don’t want to feel like this - and is fear and not wanting to hurt Jess ultimately enough to see us through?

Or maybe all this is down to the fact I still haven’t really got to grips with witnessing a murder and bouncing on a dying mans chest while he gasps his last futilely. But I don’t really think so…I was feeling like this right before he went down in front of me. And I know why that was. Nic…
I read the poems I wrote 2 nights ago – right from the first one, the first time I fell for someone. Right from that time – always unrequited, always someone else not me – until Jess. And it did seem as though I felt something, even though I can’t connect with it now – but there is nothing of the sexy or the heart wrench that there was before – just this God nonsense over and over again how “He” wrought us together etc etc. Three corded strand my arse. What sadistic evil torturer thinks this is a loving or wise thing to do to another person – especially Jess – she actually loves this horrible torturing evil deity. Rant to one side, it seems that all the holy bollocks got in the way of actually allowing our physical feelings for one another to develop naturally and at their own pace. Straight away it was talking about marriage and getting engaged, almost from the get go. Did it blind me? Was I so astonished that another might feel the same that I didn’t weigh my own feelings? Was it wishful thinking and not real love, real physical attraction can’t get you out of my head love?

I have squandered my existence, for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises, all lies and jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest.