*shiver* Cold bed is cold...

This time, last year, I was still under the wicked spell of A. It's bizarre, how someone could be such an effect on a part of your life for so long... Nearly three years, we were on and off, always more off than on. There'd be interludes, where I might have someone, but then, for some reason, the circle always came back to being in his room, lovingly bruised and staring at his Star Trek DVD collection while he caught his breath and told me I was fabulous.

No more. I don't remember the exact time the chain broke, but something did. Maybe I realised that I have a future, and, right now, he doesn't.

I always had to defend A so much, things he'd say or do, the way he'd disappear for months and then just pop back into my life. The unexplained MySpace changes, his constantly mysterious relationships with his female friends... so much. I never really became a jealous mad woman unless I was talking with, or thinking about, him.

Despite the fact that I still have pretty low self-esteem, I can see that I deserve more than what A is able to give me. He promised things would be better, and he'd try harder, but... I never saw a change. It was always so much disappointment, so much bitterness.

Everyone always told me he was no good for me, and yet I always kept coming back, because I knew he would take me, and I didn't think I could do any better.

I can. I know this now. Being with D has made me realise that I'm not a horrendous person. I do deserve happiness. I do deserve someone who doesn't promise things that can't be delivered. He is the best boyfriend I have ever had, and I still think to myself that I don't deserve someone as amazing and genuine and real and funny and silly and gorgeous as him. He is my favourite.

~~~

I was contemplating in the shower, singing as I always do, and it occured to me that I hadn't written a poem for months, for over a year. Victory's sequel never got finished. I just can't write right now. I only seem to write when I am depressed.

Some of my favourite poems I've written are still a little painful for me to read now, because I'm just transported to how I felt that day when I wrote it, and the emotion is still so fresh, even though it was so long ago. It reminds me of those Bad Days in school, the times where I'd write alone, or sketch badly in a notebook constantly shoved in a bag or pocket.

If I had to choose between being happy with D and writing poetry again, I'd pick D. Every single time.

One day, I might learn how to write powerfully without actually having to be in that painful place... but, that day is not today, sadly. So, I guess that I will just have to deal with that, and read my poems, be reminded of those days, and look at the girl I once was, and compare her to the woman I am now.

I've grown... and that's so cool. And, it sounds so clichéd and stuff, but... D's really helped. First Year was so tough, and this year's so stressful, and I've never been with someone for so long, and in such a stable way, and... it's all new and cool... It's just like having \begin {cuddleh time} and the corresponding \end doesn't exist... [yes, I stole this idea from you!]

I'm tired, because it's quite late... but... Yay. I am so blessed. This is amazing. You're amazing. I am so happy, although I am temporarily sad because D is not here... but this will be corrected soon, and happiness will be mine.

A, you lost out. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he'd actually treated me better when he was crap. I don't think about it for too long, because D is incredibly amazing in lots and lots of ways, and I am keeping my cuddleh. In a blue box.

<3