Picking at the scab

For the last two maybe three days in a row now, my friend Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady says to me: So how goes the saga? (She is obviously referring to Pretty Blue Eyes and my disastrously unrequited love)
And I reply.
Me: Oh same old same old
Or
Me: No change really
Or even
Me: I am sick of guys and their mixed messages. I wish they would throw them away into the fiery pits of hell.
Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady: You’re just going to have to deal with it. If you like him it will all work out in the end.
Or
Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady: Just give it time. If you like him then spend time with him. You never know when it will be over…

Note this is a generalisation of all of her wisdom :). And there be many more random snippets of advice she gave me, which I wish I remembered to write down, but I know I still remember on a subconscious level. Perhaps in another entry I shall talk about my wide variety of friends of different ages and backgrounds.

It’s been over a month and I am still heartbroken. Well I feel like my wounds have healed but while it’s still a scab I keep accidentally scratching off whenever I see him or think about him and all the hurt bleeds out. It’s an open wound again. It never fully heals. No band aid can cover it up or make it feel any better. Why can’t I seem to get over this? I wonder if maybe it’s because it’s true like. The like you experience very rarely in a life time? Every time I see him I get a jolt in my heart, its agonising longing mixed with happiness, it starts in my heart and then the wonderfulness of the feeling melts with in and trickles throughout my veins to the very essence of my being in a matter of seconds. It’s irritating because I feel like he will never know, but amazing because I hope that maybe he does. I pray that if he is not the one that I feel the exact same way about another human being, the closeness, the warm feelings, the hazy eyes and the shyness of trying to talk to them. I wish I could stop picking at the scab because it feels like its becoming infected with a wide amount of both irrational and rational feelings. I think the only medicine would be accepting myself and loving myself. I was told in order for a guy to like me I have to like myself and be confident, but the truth is I don’t, I never really have. I accept myself but I don’t like it. It’s more of a self annoyance. I irritate me. I analyse everything I do and constantly my own worst critic. When will this ridiculous cycle of self annoyance end? When will I find peace with in myself and be more comfortable in my own skin? It’s been a slow battle, but I know that it is happening.

P.S. I maked a friendship bracelet for Pretty Blue Eyes and have subsequently learnt he has Mickey Mouse hands! :P