I spoke to Helena today for the first time in months.

The last time I spoke to her I was "home" and she was visiting her family after having a huge argument with her partner, he was moving out of her apartment in Liverpool  while she was away visiting. I haven't spoken to her since she left to go back to Liverpool. Makes me a bad friend I guess for not checking how she was after the break up but I was in my "bubble".

Anyway...

She e-mailed me today. This long, lengthy, heart breaking and heart warming, humorous e-mail about what's happened and where she's at.

Basically, when she arrived back at Liverpool from her visit her partner hadn't moved out which resulted in Helena throwing his belonging out of the window and onto the street... Classy. Heated argument ensued. Helena proceeded to take the piss out of his Liverpool accent. He finally left. She lost her job as a professional photographer for some up-and-coming company because he kept bothering her at work. Now she's packing up her belongings and heading to Manchester.

But anyway...

I called her for a chat tonight. She had some funny stories to tell me. She had just gotten back from a "date" and she was filling me in on the juicy details. Not that I particularly wanted to hear them. But it was nice. Very lovely. I miss her. Sometimes.

Maybe I should accept those tablets the doctor keeps offering me. Maybe it's better to feel nothing at all.

I don't know anything any more.

Also today...

I just received a phone call from my ex-best-friend's cousin. Random, I know. But he called to apologise for something that happened when I was fourteen years old. WHEN I WAS FOURTEEN YEARS OLD.

He said he was in rehab' now, going through the stage where you have to apologise for all the wrong things you've done when taking drugs. I imagine his list to be miles long.

The thing he did wrong to me? He slammed me against the wall and threatened me and threw me downstairs.

It wasn't as bad as it seems.

I got right back up and walked straight back upstairs and dragged him out of the house, locking him out.

We were in his grandad's house (also my best friend's grandad's house) and he was on some sort of trip and it wasn't pretty and Jazz just wanted him out of the house before her grandad got back.

Basically that's it.

Crazy phone call.

Thoughts #1

You want to know what the most frustrating thought is?

It's the fact that I had always thought people who [ insert phrase I can't seem to be able to type here ] were just doing it for attention, attention seeking. But I suppose I now know that more than usually isn't the case. People do it because they slip into a dark place and they don't know how to get out and that's the easiest escape - I know that now.

The even more frustrating thing?

You thought the same thing as me. You probably still think the same thing.

And, anyway, thinking about it more... I've always done this shit.

I remember standing in the office of my head teacher when I was in school. He was shouting at me for something that's not so important now. My hands were behind my back and I was digging my nails into my wrist, drawing blood. I've always done that. Whenever I was in trouble and had done something wrong. Hands behind my back and nails digging into my skin.

None of this probably makes any sense. Just feels better to get it out of my head.