Still raining in St Andrews

It is bitter and wet in St Andrews at present. The worst week of the year. I cannot imagine this place with sunshine. There are no real storms, but instead the drawn out chill of March winds. The weather mirrors the drab chill of my mood to utter perfection.

But when it comes down to it there seems so little left to say. I seem to have spent the week sorting through my words. Sorting them out into long strings that make less and less sense and speak more out of being hurt and being angry than they do about what happened, about what is happening. I don't think we can really write about the heart. When eyes meet across a street, or through the separate hells you are both living in the absence of the other, when you cling to someone and feel their heartbeat through the skin of their cheek, when you lose sight of all sense of why you get up, or why you study or exist because someone has knocked the life wind out of you. When all of that happens - how do you explain it? How do you listen to the well meaning friends who tell you to protect yourself and not speak to the object of your pain? How do you turn your phone off or close the door on someone who changes the climate of your days?

So the boyfriend issue still smoulders - a constant in the background and in all the ridiculous, heartbreaking discussions, in the cold raining everyday night of the pavements of Howard Place, in tequilla driven Friday nights and Saturday mornings, in thought out everyday prose in someone's hallway - overlooking a gloomy day our relationship has drawn itself unwieldingly to a close. People have written to my last blog entry that I should not stop trusting or stop putting my faith in other people - and I haven't. I just seem to have lost any words for describing or explaining anymore. I want an end to this rain and the cold that seeps slowly into our bones to settle. I want an end to worrying about someone who doesn't want me in his life anymore (atleast not for right now). I want to be able to sleep at night without wondering if someone close by is happy. I want the warmth of fun and letting go and laughing. I want to laugh so much. I want to stop taking myself so bloody seriously and realise the insignificance of a break-up in the long scheme of things. I want to wake up looking forward to getting out of bed. I want to be able to be there for people who actually want me there - as opposed to one who is made worse by my presence. I want to stop having to talk to myself in cliches, 'take each day as it comes', or 'what doesn't kill us makes us stronger'. I want to remember what a beautiful, precious place this is, and how incredible the people here are. But, I guess most of all right now, I am just exhausted and tierd and want Spring break and sunshine to come as soon as possible to whisk me away from here.