So, Sacrifice at Mid Atlantics. I tried to remain buttoned up although I spazzed out for a while after merciless mocking of Raven and consuming Ribena and quesadillas- He’s a Tubby Pirate apparently. I struggled to defend him as any honourable maiden of the seas would do.

These are what could be classed as tubby pirates:

blimp-like definitely fat


This is NOT:

it's a medical condition, fools

Hey- I love him for his mind rather than his body- Is that a crime? For the latter I’ll Hail me some Sabin, alright?

So anyway, I tried to keep restrained throughout all of this- staying detached so I don’t care as much is the way to be (not that it bloody works). The meeting wasn’t as hilariously excruciating as our first one post disaster but I still found it awkward; I probably talked to his housemate more than I did him. I guess it’s the walk back and then the ride home that does it- the saying goodbye then the time alone to think. Gets me down.

Maybe our friendship was based around attraction of various sorts and when after all the years something finally happened and then all came to nought the ‘point’ kind of evaporated? I’m just tired I guess and feeling lonesome; it’s funny how that cliche is true- you can indeed spend an entire evening in a room of people and feel alone. I do not view self-worth as being gained by the affections of others or the amount garnered, however there comes a point where it would be nice for someone to show me a little love and attention and truly care.

I’m in one of those crap moods where I imagine comfort being someone holding me and softly stroking my hair and I feel relaxed, safe and warm. Sigh.

Oh Patrick. I’ll go and make some hot chocolate for us and I’ll talk to you and I’ll feel better.

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