pain, loss, depression, despair..

It’s over with Donna.
It hardly feels accurate to say it was ‘on’ in the first place really, but whatever it might be that adequately describes the bond that we’d developed is no longer apt, because it’s over. We got drunk together, that was the problem. I became my usual buoyant, opinionated, over-friendly self; she got morose and told me all about her boyfriend back in Nottingham.
That stung a little..
Then we had an increasingly heated discussion about lies, and wasting time, and toying with people’s emotions. Then she told me she misses him. She thinks it must be the real thing, and she can’t wait to finish her course and get back to him ‘to start their life.’ I asked if I was nothing more than a bit of fun and she said “Well… not that much fun, to be honest.” And at that point it was over. My mouth dried, my throat contracted and I could feel the cold pieces of my shattered heart falling down my innards into my stomach. She said ‘sorry’ when I left. That was sweet of her. If she had said ‘I hope we can still be friends’ I think I would have punched her in the face.
Now I have to avoid the library like a leper colony, and somehow reconcile the fact that – even though I want to hate every fibre of her fulsome, pert body – I really, really liked her. And it really, really hurts.

RC 30-3-09
0916 BST!