I went to bed around 3am, feeling very very depressed, suicidal and wanting to tear my arms open with a nice sharp blade. Thankfully, I didn't.
I ended up sleeping till 6pm, only really getting up because I knew Laura would want to go on the computer at 7pm. I saw that Lisa had sent me a concerned email. Madelayne had too. I also found a note from Ann. Everyone's care is very appreciated.
I was quite dreading the next confrontation with my mum. That's what it felt it would be - a confrontation. Not a conversation, or civility, but confrontation. Thankfully, however, she was getting ready to go out in her bedroom and I was able to go downstairs, make myself a drink and come back to my room. When I came back, Laura was on the computer. I like Laura, I really do. I feel closer to her than I do my mum. But what my mum said last night ("Laura loves you...but she doesn't like you"), made me wonder what she was truly thinking of me. I've always thought me and Laura get on well. We laugh and joke about stuff. But according to my mum, she doesn't like me? So can you see why my paranoia isn't just in my head? People wonder why I get paranoid of people. People wonder why I think people are talking about me behind my back. I think this counts as a damn good reason why.
Once my mum was ready she came out of her room and done whatever.
"Neil?", she asked, from the bottom of my stairs.
"What?", I asked, very uninterested.
"Are you ok?"
"No"
Silence.
She got on with what she was doing.
Complaining, offending, shouting, then compassion? Fuck no. How can I accept compassion off you when you've made me feel like shit the night before? WHY should I accept it?
A while later she went out with her boyfriend, Paul.
Katie rang me at around 8:30pm to see how I was, concerned about what I'd written in my diary. I said I couldn't really talk because Laura was in the room, and said I'd ring her back later.
I took the televised National IQ Test. I was extremely disappointed with my results - 96. That's under average. Last year, I got 106, so God knows where that 10 points have gone. I got 46/70 questions right which is quite crap. The maths questions were impossible.
After the test, Katie rang back and we talked for an hour or so. Long silences a lot of time. I didn't know what to say. She tries so hard to show me compassion and I truly am grateful for it. We talked about her too and how she was, since talking about me sucked. She invited me to go to some sort of festival called Summer Madness. Apparantly it's a four day Christian music festival thing. She's going on her own but invited me to stay in the tent for the four days. I said I'd think about it since i'm not really sure if I want to go. I don't know whether I'd enjoy it or not. It's some time in July so I have a few weeks to think about it.
Shelley went and got herself a boyfriend. Strange, how everyone I like seems to go get a boyfriend just days after. Worse, of course, is when they already have a boyfriend and you fucking kiss them anyway...
Yes, I kissed Robyn again on Saturday.
I won't detail the whole day, simply because I can't be arsed, but it was nice being with her. We went to see X Men 2, which was ok, but still lacking something like the first was. It was completely full. Full of geeks and young children, I might add. Perhaps it was a bad choice of film.
I put my arm around her a while into the film. I'd wanted to do it from the start but wasn't sure whether to or not. Finally, I managed to and we stroked each others hand. I couldn't help but realised I was also partially stroking her breast and though this was very unintentional (no, really, it was unintentional), once I became aware of it, I began doing it intentionally and eventually I was stroking her breast and not her hand no more. I was doing it very lightly to begin with, and expecting her to bat my hand away, but she didn't and I just assumed she was happy for me to do it so I carried on and done it a bit more...and more.
My hand ended up in her top, playing with her nipple.
And this was while we were still watching the film, in a very packed room.
Once the film was over, we made our way back to the station and waited for my train. Sadly, but admittedly funny, she got shit on by a pigeon. She has a very big phobia of pigeons too and she was visibly upset. I kept hugging her but I doubt it done any good.
About five minutes before my train was due to arrive, I had my arms around her, hugging her. "Can I give you a kiss?", I asked her, after wanting to ask her all day long. "Maybe", she said, shyly. I asked her again a few seconds later. "Maybe". I went to try and kiss her but she shyed away. What I didn't understand was the fact that she wasn't actually saying no and the maybe's came with a slight smile, which is why I went to kiss her. I asked her once more. "Too many people", she said. Just then, I saw that my train was pulling in and told her this, before we walked over the small bridge connecting to the platform.
"Ok, here", she said, then "What if William finds out?". "If you don't want to it's ok", I told her. "Ok", she said, and we kissed. Properly this time, not like last time, where it was very unexpected. It must of lasted at least 30 seconds or so this time. It was so very very lovely to be able to kiss her once more, knowing that this would be the very last time I would do so, because I had promised myself that I would never make any sort of advances towards her in the future.
Once the kiss was parted, I looked down at the platform where my train was. Where it was, anyway, because it was now pulling out of the station. She had already phoned her mum. I gave her one last hug and she left me to wait for the next train. I went to the info booth to ask when the next one was. An hour away! I didn't mind too much, but over that hour, it got very very cold and my hands were numb. It passed so slowly. I was very glad once the train came.
Just before getting the train back to Kirkby, from Liverpool, I stopped off at Sainsbury's and bought myself a tub of Vanilla and Chocolate fudge ice cream, along with a few other things.
On the train back to Kirkby, there were two drunk old men, who began talking to me. I find drunk people very intimidating and I was praying they wouldn't talk to me, but yes, they did. I just kept my answers to a minimum, and looked very unapproachable - I do that well.
When I was waiting for a cab home, a guy, who had just dropped his last cigarette on the floor, was now asking anyone who came out the station if they had any spare. He asked me, but of course, I said no. Once a cab came, he asked if I was first or him, moving towards the cab and I just assumed he was first. "Can I jump in front of you? I'm dying for a fuckin' ciggie mate", he asked. "Yeah, go on", I replied. "Where're you going mate?", he asked me, to which I told him where, and then asked me to get in with him, and the people who were waiting behind me ushered me to do so too, so I got in.
"Mate, you are a touch", he told me, in the cab. I guess that's a good thing. I noticed he had a cut on his eye, and he asked me if it looked bad. I couldn't really see in the dark cab though. Though he looked roughed up and ready to explode if he didn't get his next ciggie soon, he was nice enough I guess. He said he'd been beaten up by a few guys for something or another. His stop came up and he shook my hand and got out, before I returned home.
Of course, though my day was lovely, it was all spoilt by the happenings of what went on in the night, ie, the big offensive by mother dearest.
Rachel, the girl who used to go and see James Riley also, left me a guestbook message, with a link to this diary. After reading through the entry, (and reading it after the offensive, might I add), I found myself rather lower than I was, quite hurt, offended, this time by someone I didn't even know. On any other night, I really wouldn't of been bothered about what they had said, but when you've got a whole other pile of shit hanging over you, you don't need that as well. Rachel said she felt bad about me feeling about over it, before going offline straight after. Rachel, if you're reading, you've not got anything to be guilty for, honestly. Please don't feel responsible.
A nice day, a shit night. A new day, same old life.
