I hate being emotionally attached to anyone. For some people, it's like a goal...they want that cute thing that couples have...they want someone to make their heart beat fast and all that. Me? not so much.

I HATE THAT FEELING.

I've never really appreciated liking someone. Inbetween the cute moments are the moments that occur more often where I just want to scream and not feel anymore.

I hate the lack of control.

I hate someone else having any influence on my mood.

I hate thinking of them all the time.

I hate caring whether or not there's a message on my phone from them.

I like nothing about emotions. It's annoying and stressful and much more peaceful to just have friends and chill.

I really like when someone is heartbroken and I cannot relate to the pain. Obviously, I don't like people being heartbroken...it's sad and i've been there...it's not nice. However, I loved the detached feeling of looking at a heartbroken person and feeling bad for them but not truly relating to how they feel.

And I'm not saying all emotion ends in heartbreak. I'm saying I can do without all the highs and lows.

For now at least, I like stable.

everyone that has been dumped secretly wishes the person that dumped them is crying into their pillow, wishing they didn't do it.

The truth is, they hardly ever are. I'm always amused by how strongly people believe in cliches when it comes to the end of a relationship. 'They won't last' 'Noone can love him like me' 'I'm the best thing that ever happened to him'...bullshit...bullshit...bullshit.

Human beings move on. It's what we do. Don't let Greys anatomy fool you into thinking that 10 years from now, the 17 year old love of your life will come swanning back as if they never left.

LIES. LIES. LIES.

Don't look at exceptions. People are exceptionally good at moving on. When you get dumped, so yourself a favour. Delete all contact information and social media alliances and move the hell on.

Stalking, even done in the privacy of your home, isn't cute.

Friendship Whores

I don't like being friends with whores. I don't mean that in the regular sense of people who have sex for money...I mean people that give everything to everybody. You know, the kind of person that has like 50 best friends. When something happens, everyone knows. They talk a lot to everyone. They don't really have that concept of 'special'. Everyone is special, so noone is special.

I cant have a relationship or friendship or anything that ends in 'hip' with anyone that treats everyone the same. Your friends are not your children...you're allowed to have favorites. Mind you, I don't want to be everybodys best friend. Far from it infact, that would be a nightmare. I like, however, to know where I stand in people's lives. If I'm an acquaintance, I want to be just that...if we're friends, that's good too. If EVERYBODY is your close friend, then the value of your friendship is diminished and I don't want.

Now, why am I writing this? I'm not sure. I guess some things really are just pointless.

Friendships, I find are exactly like relationships. Just the other day, a friend broke up with me. Like literally, break-up speech and everything. 'It's not you, it's the situation' (who actually says it's not you, it's me).

Anyway, I looked at my phone in amusement as the messages came in...each one a variation of the last. The most amusing was 'I don't want this to turn into an argument btw'...who argues when they are being broken up with?

It did make me think though. When someone expels you from their life, you should always think. It's so easy to imagine that you're the perfect person that someone is missing out on. Truth is, it's never really a matter of 'he who is wrong is wrong'...there's usually something to be learnt about improving yourself. Not altering yourself to the point where you're a completely different person...not changing yourself to suit someone else's idea of what you should be. Improving.

I did come to a few conclusions. It all boiled down to being more respectful of people. I may not be able or willing to change my laid-back attitude and if I call someone, I'm more inclined to open with conversation about myself and I often put myself far above others. These are all things that maybe should change, but probably wouldn't...right now.

The one thing I do want to change and have started to be more aware of is respect. For people, their opinions, their feelings and for friendships and the differences between expectations in any relationship.

So, what I'm saying is...respect.

She stared at the empty screen in front of her and willed her mind to fill it. Her heart had been wringed out of her chest and she lacked the capacity to observe the world anymore. She started writing many times but each line sounded wrong and empty and threatened to go nowhere, so her hand remained on the backspace button, while her head willed the words to come.

She typed.

All I want to do is write about you. I miss you. Your eyes, your smile, the stupid way you danced.

I miss the way you always knew what I was going to say and talked to me for hours about things that to other people seemed irrelevant and mundane.

When you made me breakfast and lunch and dinner and all the things inbetween. How you forced me to try new things and knew what I liked before me.

Your laugh.

Waking up next to you.

Sleeping next to you.

Waking up so tightly entwined together, any limb could belong to anyone.

She stopped typing because she knew that retrospect made everything perfect. That her mind had lost the ability to see wrong or bad. Maybe that was the beauty of love. Being able to squeeze out every bit of good from every bit of bad. Being able to see past actions to the soul of a person to understand their worst actions.

The way you wouldn't let me stay mad at you.

She would write about love.

I realised that I only cared because someone else did. But it doesn't matter who cared. It doesn't matter if it's someone or it's noone. And transferring that power, the power to do something- anything in life is stupid. The only person that should have the power is you. The only person it should matter to is you. Because at the end of the day, it's YOUR life. And yes, sometimes, you look at everyone else that has everybody believing what the say...but it doesn't matter. The lives that anyone else lives has no bearing on your life. Unless and until you break free from these beliefs, they will determine everything you do. They will bring you down. And sometimes, when you think you can do something, the only way to do it is to do it. The only way to grow is to grow. You have to do it even when it hurts. Even when you're the only person in the room that can hear yourself and noone else cares. THE ONLY PERSON THAT HAS TO CARE IS YOU.

Some nights I can't sleep because of the crippling fear. So many things scare me. But the only reason that they scare me is I KNOW that I'm not fighting hard enough. I know I'm coasting. And I know that if I carry on like this, all my fears will come to pass, so I can't let them.

Fears exist in the mind and I need to stop living in my mind and start living in real life.

ACID

It wasn't how she thought she'd be spending her new year.

She pulled down her too short glittery skirt and tried to make out her friends in the crowd. The neon sign of the club was blinding her. 'ACID' it said in bright pink neon lettering. No subtlety there.

She saw them huddled in a corner ear the door. They wore similar outfits to her and she hated to say it, but they looked...desperate.

'Hey' she shouted, tottering towards them in heels she could barely walk in. They waved back and Kike brought out a cigarette. She reached their small circle and gestured for a cigarette before she spoke.

'What's the plan?'

'We go in, have fun and enter a new year'...Uche tried to sound enthusiastic, but she just sounded tired.

'Ok let's go in then'

They walked towards the entrance. '20 pounds each' the bouncer said straight faced.

They watched three girls go in without paying. They didn't protest. They knew a pointless battle. They walked to the small pay booth and paid.

The lights in the club were even more painful than the neon sign. It was already packed. They found some standing space next to one of the speakers. Each beat felt like something was shattering in her brain.

This was not how she was supposed to spend new year.

Noone spoke about getting drinks. It was too loud to speak anyway and they could barely see the bar for all the people around it.

She closed her eyes for a minute and pictured what her life should be like. She should be at home convincing her child to stay up. She should be cracking jokes with her husband.

Anything. But. This.

She was 30 and in a nightclub in a too short skirt on New Years Eve desperately trying to have fun.

She felt someone tug at her sleeve. 'We're going to try the bar', someone was shouting in her ear.

'Ok'

They took it as indication that she was going to follow, but she stayed where she was. Then she ran. She ran out of the club, past the pay booth and the ugly bouncer at the door. She left her heels on a side street somewhere and didn't stop running. The pavement felt cool beneath her feet and she was hopelessly out of breath but she couldn't stop running.

When she finally stopped, she was right at the spot where the pain started. The house he lived in. The house he lived in with his family. The family that he made so quickly after her. The family that broke her heart a little more everyday. That made her life rot away gradually as if infected by a poisonous acid.

She saw a light come on in an upstairs window and watched a curtain close. She cried silently for what she promised to be the last time. This might be an equally desperate start to the new year, but at least it was honest.

Fireworks exploded around her and she could hear load chants of 'HAPPY NEW YEAR' from the insides of houses.

She started the long journey home.

It was time for a new start.

Challenge/Competition

Happy new year my lovelies!!!

I haven't ever done a competition or challenge, so her goes both!

For 30 days, I'm going to write a short story every day.

But the ideas are going to come from you. It can be a title, the first line of the story...even a word! be creative.

For every idea, I use...the person gets a printed copy and signed copy of the story sent to them in the post.

At the end of the challenge...everyone who participates will be randomly entered into a draw to win a printed/signed copy of all the stories. BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW! ONE DAY IT COULD BE WORTH SOMETHING!!! The winner would also receive other things that have not yet been identified at this point, because c'mon! I just thought of this!

lol

You can submit ideas by commenting on this post and then any of the posts in the next 30 days. You can give as many as you want. You can also tweet me the ideas @sexywriter

I promise to think more carefully about the details of the competition and come up with better prices.

But please participate guys!

xxx

Follow Me

Follow me on twitter:

@sexywriter

for those of you that already found me before (ni)...I switched accounts, so my former sexywriter account is now my personal account and now I have a new sexywriter account!

Look forward to talking to you guys on twitter.

Happy Holidays!

What Happens When The Piano Stops Playing? On Religion.

People cry in church. Like honest to God, bawling their eyes out. People jump and shout and run around. I don't know. I feel like a huge part of church is theatrics. It's the music...the sermon in dramatic tones! Everything is dramatic. It's like playing a love song in the background everytime you tell your girlfriend you love her.

I get it. That emotions run high 'in the presence of God'. That's another thing, people always emphasise God's presence on Sunday mornings when people are dressed up and there's a piano playing. Maybe it's like seeing your favorite artiste at a live concert...your emotions tend to run a bit high. I don't really do concerts, so I'm not sure.

I don't know, sometimes I feel cheated in church. I feel like I want to see everything stripped back. I want to see how people feel the love of God when the piano stops playing. I want to hear the sermon in tones that aren't modulated in a way to force people to listen.

I just want to see how much of it is real.

How much of it do people remember and feel after the closing prayer?

That's all I want to know.