dot, dot, dot.

I hate that you can't see that she doesn't even give a shit about you. I don't know what you see in her.

She brings out the worst in you, and you're becoming a terrible person.

Whinge Fest.

I'm so so so gutless.

I have ONE chance. ONE. To make a good, lasting impression and keep them interested. I get nervous, chicken out and don't even take the chance up. Ugh.

Nice, somewhat modest boys obviously intimidate me. I have issues.

I'm so in love.

Dear Luke Pritchard (yes you, Luke Pritchard, lead singer of The Kooks).

Hey. I adore you. Marry me.

Cheers,

Emily

Best Friends.

I wrote a little rhyme in 5 minutes about my bestie, because we're cool and digg weird stuff like this.

Friday nights, Tuesday afternoons

You listen to me, while I listen to you

Just talking

And it’s always easy, being me

Because you see what the others don’t see

And I can’t explain what you mean to me

Because you’re always more of a man than you need to be

A best friend, a brother

That’s how well we know each other

Your humour’s lame and your jeans are frayed

You’ve got a kick in your hair that won’t go away

But you make me laugh, and you always care

I can call you for anything and you’ll beg me to share

And although no one gets it,

I couldn’t live without it

Late night chats, midday secrets

There’s no holding back and no regrets

Between us

You keep your promises, I keep mine

Because of all that, we’re doing just fine

And I can’t begin to tell you, how it comforts me to know

That I have a friend like you to show

My sister, my mother

I’m really glad we know each other

Your humour’s lame and your jeans are frayed

You’ve got a kick in your hair that won’t go away

But you make me laugh, and you always care

I can call you for anything and you’ll beg me to share

And although no one gets it,

I couldn’t live without it

We made a silly pact that one day we’ll get married

In case we get old, wrinkly, and begin to be worried

That our lovers go astray, or our hair’s going grey

We always know who’ll be there waiting

At the end of the day

Most people tell me its too good to be true

That they don’t know friends like me and you

And although no one gets it

We can’t live without it

Peace and love.

A little story.

This is a semi-rant - inspired by reality and music and books and a movie I just saw. I'd say maybe 60% of this is true - the rest is inspiration, and exaggeration. So don't go being - OMG EMILY WHO IS IT? Because I'm not going to rat out a friend - my poetic liscence is at use here, I'm feeling inspired.



I didn’t need to try to understand how you work. You were transparent and unguarded and it suited me just fine.

I didn’t need to be warned by both my friends, and yours. You don’t have a good track record with any of them, love.

I didn’t need you to be so lovely, that night we first met. You made me feel warm, and wanted, and comfortable.

I didn’t need you to tell me all of the things you knew I wanted to hear. You were genuine; at least, it seemed so. That was enough.

I didn’t need you to call me that time we talked for hours. Or dance with me at the place with the name neither of us can remember. Or send that one text message I’ve still got saved in my inbox. Or hold me so tight that night no one will quickly forget.

And - I didn’t need you to tell me that you’d started something else, with someone else. Or that it had been coming for a while. I didn’t need it all to seem like one big ol’ cliché.

But most of all, I didn’t need it to feel okay. I hate that it feels okay. Because I knew it was coming, I just didn’t want to fight it. Because I knew I wasn't enough, and I wasn't prepared to be enough. But - that's really actually okay with me.

I don’t need you to come back to me and make me do it all again. But I know you will. And you know what? That too, will be okay.