Things that have been said:

Him to me - Dave reckons we're just exactly the same person. You're fucking lovely. You're always tired, you're always angry... it reminds me of people in prison, how they start to sleep so much just to try and make the time go faster, that's how you live your life. You're pushing me away. When I die I want them to fill me with porridge and make me into a posable action figure. I never, ever want to read what you write on your blog.

Me to him - You don't let me get away with anything, do you? You don't trust me, do you? You remind me of that Alanis Morrisette song, you treat me like I'm a princess / I'm not used to liking that. I can't write anymore. I feel I've been running the whole summer from this stuff and I haven't stopped to deal with it yet and that scares me. You're so pretty, though.

You know you shouldn't try to save me, right?

Things that have changed:

I smoke more, drink more, swear about as much, take more medication, cry less, write less, wander around on my own less, like myself a bit better. I'm older and probably wiser, but what I know now is that a lot can happen in a year. An awful fucking lot.

Things that have been lost:

Big and little things, like faith and weight, dignity and children.

Things that I will cling to, to get through this, to stay sane:

Irn Bru, frozen Frubes, my student comfort food, bacon and brie sandwiches from Mario's Lunchbox.

The pub, a pint, a cigarette, some conversation.

The club, the noise, the heat, the people.

The boy, the hugs, the spark, the cups of tea.

The books.

The walking around.

The sleeping; the simple things.