To ask, or not to ask?

There are many questions I have now that I need answers to. The biggest being should I ask them at all. Such a whirlwind as happened tonight, such a meleé of emotion that I'm surprised I can still stand. But then, I'm not so affected as that.
I heard the words with my own ears and still I'm failing to understand. Maybe I should stop trying to understand. I feel very angry, and vengeful; I want to enact revenge of some sort yet I can't. This is not clear cut, this is muggy and dirty and so mixed up that I feel unable to act either way.
I am so hurt by this. For the first time I am not the one to blame, I wasn't seeing things that weren't there, or only seeing the things I wanted to see - I saw what was there; what was real. Yet I am the one who has to pay. I'm the one who has to feel foolish, and humiliated and stupid. I do know that this is not the end of my world. I do know that there are a million people out there worse off than I am, a million times worse even. I do know that I will get past this, I'm made too strong to be beaten down for too long and there is some relief in finally knowing where I stand.
But that doesn't stop me feeling hurt and angry. I am blameless in this, I did nothing but be charmed and swept away as anyone would have. But I feel mortified.
I feel like saying nasty things, I feel blatantly showing the whole world what a horrible was done to me. But we were friends ere anything else and that stops me. Still, after all that has happened I could not do that.
He fucked up. He royally fucked up and I know he knows that but I want him to know it more. How could he ever expect things to go back the way they were? The thoughts of even seeing him right now turn my stomach. I feel betrayed.
Because of his actions, not only have I lost someone I thought I could be with, but I've lost a friend as well. I don't understand why.
This is a new hurt to me. And the truth of the matter? He didn't deserve to break my heart, he's not worthy of it. Nor does he deserve my tears, fall though they might. I'm worth more than that, I deserve more than that.
I hope he realises what he's lost. I don't think I will see him 'on the other side'. I'm not sure I'll ever allow him to have me again, as a friend or even less.
So do I ask him why?

I don't know.

The meaning of...you call this life?

I'm back home at last. I thought I'd never get here. But now I'm here I have to wait ages till I get back to Cork. Well, ten days anyway. So much has happened in the meantime I don't know where to even start. I'm so confused and mixed up over many things, it's all a big jumble of stuff just bursting to get out but I'm trying my hardest to keep it in.

So my mum is in hospital waiting for surgery on what may or may not be cancer, either way it's surgery and that scares me a lot. I can't lose my mum. If I lose my mum, I lose everything. I'm praying every day that she will be ok but even my prayers are half hearted because I'm losing my faith. I'm convinced that I'm one of those people who just will never be truly happy because every time things start going well something bad happens and right now there is this one thing that I really really want that I think will make me very happy but I feel like if my mum is ok, then I don't get it, or if I get it, then I'm going to lose my mum. I don't think I'm allowed have both. It's unfair and it makes me angry but I truly believe that it's my lot, that that's how it's always going to be. I can be a little bit happy here and there, but real happiness for a prolonged period of time? No. Never. Not going to happen.

The meaning of life through my eyes? It's hard. It sucks. Once you accept that and get over it, you should be fine. But that's easier said than done, isn't it?

I cannot believe I let my whole experience of London go undocumented. Here at least. In my journal there is more than enough information but the effort of transcribing it all is simply too much. Lately I have been much happier writting down my thoughts, ideas, feeling etc. with a pen as opposed to a keyboard.
Going through this ridiculous phase of eighteenth century idealism and romanticism as I am, it seemes (especially as I wandered the streets and parks of London) far more appropriate to carry with me my litle journal which I could take out at intervals and document all I was seeing/doing, sometimes even drawing pictures. Although I think it fair to say that my artistic abilities leave a LOT to be desired.
I will say this of my visit to London: I am wholly lost to the idea of being in my very own romantic bildungsroman a la Miss Bennet or Miss Eyre. I simply can't help it...

Months later...

I know, I know, I'm a total farce. So many things have happened since last I tapped out words on this little screen. I've just been so busy, engrossed in my own little world and using a pen, rather than a keyboard to sound out my thoughts. Much has happened to my alter-ego Jane also, and much has been written of her, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait for that, Idon't have any of it with me.
I'm off to London on Wednesday, I really can't wait. The Power that is Una shall be accompanying me. Exciting much.
I shall update further then.

Looking back to happier times

I was just on bebo and cmae across this. It was posted ages ago, and I wouldn't feel right putting it up there now, it's such a happy page right now. But I'm gonna post it here. I feel I should put it somewhere. The thing is yesterday I attended a kids themed party where we played all manner of kids games etc. The playing in the field, running about, playing games, getting dirty - it all served as a memory of my childhood. Most of it, time I spent with Barry. Especially because we were in the country and playing in the field. It didn't make me sad at the time or anything, it was nice remembering all those stupid things we used to do. I think that's why I skated down the way too steep hill. I was standing at the top, looking down and I thought to myself: what would Barry do if he were here? What would he say? He would say do it. Just like the time we jumped into the water-filled quary. I grazed my knee that time too. That was what we did. We spent our entire childhood and even some of our teens doing stupid things, quite often getting hurt, but that was just part of it. I know that if he had been there yesterday, of course he would have been worried when I lamped myself, but seeing I was ok he would have called me a mad bitch but ben impressed none the less. Twisted I know, but that's the way we were. I miss him so much sometimes. He brought such life and vigour to everything he did. He was a mad fucker alright, but that was just part of him that made everyone love him all the more. Even now memories are flooding back to me: the time we broke the window in his garage and he cut his hand quite badly, the time we managed to lock him in the booth of the car, the time I got my head cracked off a tree, the time the television fell onto us, the times we went exploring the building sites...the list goes on. Of course, as far as the adults are concerend allnthe above were accidents, unintentional - we covered up for each other very well. To this day no one knows we broke that window. The window was already broken when we got there, we were trying to clean up the glass, that's how Barry cut his hand. Really. Jesus, and all the times we went climbing all over the hay bales down the fields and caught field mice. We were inseperable really. they called us the terrible twins. Whenever we went anywhere together people thought we actually were twins. Sometimes we pretended we were! So, for Barry:


Barry "The Man Himself"
Barry was a very popular young man, loved and admired by all who knew him, as evidenced by the massive attendance at his funeral and by the outpouring of emotion by young and old alike. He played with distinction for this club from his very first outing and achieved many honours in a career that promised much more in the years to come.
Barry had the distinction of playing in two under 12 Finals, two U14 Finals, two U16 Finals and a Minor Final, winning both U12 Finals, an u14, u16 and a Minor Final. Barry was captain of the Minor winning side last year. As an U14 he went on to play in the All Ireland Feile in Tipperary. He also won an All Ireland Colleges Senior C Final with Presentation College Carlow and represented his county too. As a player he had a great competitive spirit, was fearless and loved a challenge. He was never fazed by an opponent and inspired those around him with his ability to win ' hard ball', to take punishment and drive on for victory. There is no doubt that he would have gone on to achieve great things in senior grade in years to come.
Barry had a great love of life and lived his short life to the full. He possessed great charm and warmth and was always the life and soul of the party. Never in bad form he had a glint in his eye and you just knew he was game for anything. He had an ability to get on with people - of all ages and was extremely loyal to friends and family. If you were a friend of Barry's he would look out for you, no questions asked. He had a great sense of humour too and loved nothing better than to put one over on you. I even heard of him getting Tony Maher to take his photo to appear in the Carlow People, the rival newspaper to his father's Nationalist, just to rise Tom! That was his way. Tom and Marian were great parents and friends to Barry and all the family and we know they will bear their cross with great dignity.
As many of you know Tom Geoghegan devoted much of his live to this club and has always been one of the real cornerstones of the Club. Tom has over the years been a great friend to countless Eire Og players and members and did more good turns, in a quiet unassuming way, than will ever be known. Barry lived his life to the full; he used all his talents well and is now gone to claim his just reward in Heaven. It can be hard for us to share the pain but sometimes words can be a source of comfort. Here is a short poem by a lady called Mary Frye, that for me describes Barry as we knew him.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.


Ar Dheis De go raibh a anam dhilis.

what now?

interesting developments. that's all I'm saying.

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...

How is it you can be so certain about someting one minute, and then utterly confused about it the next? I was 100% sure that it was right. Now, I don't think it's right at all. I'm not just confused or unsure, I feel the opposite of what I originally felt. It has to end, but I don't know how and I have to wonder, am I just running away? Am I giving up too easily? A part of me thinks I am, but a bigger part tells me I have to do it. I don't know how though, I really don't know how.....
I have to do it. I will do it. In fact, I'll be doing it today. The thoughts of it make me sick, but I guess it's ok because I have people who care about me to look after me and help me through it. I know it's the right decision. I've weighed it all up, I've considered it from every angle and come to the conclussion that I'm not willing to settle and lose something that's a big part of what I am; not when there are people with whom such a loss isn't even a slight consideration.
Ok, it doesn't stop the horrific churning in my stomach and it is still very upsetting, but at least I know ot's the right thing to do.
I just hope it goes well.....