World of more

I have no idea why I'm doing what I'm doing. On a scientific level it's interesting to watch my actions and emotional responses change over time, but I'm worried that actually I'm just a bit emotionally sub-normal. I met up with her last night and we talked. I've never had such an emotional talk, never been more honest with my feelings, and never used so many cliches in open conversation (just going to prove that they're generally only cliches because they're true). And now we're going to go away on holiday together. I'm making it feel like the weekend I took her to Marlow, when I knew it would lead to failure, but I could walk away with my head held high and be proud of my actions. I want to spend the week with her because she's someone I love, and I want it to be spectacular, soaring, elegant, romantic, sexy, exciting, fun and beautiful. Then next Sunday I will walk away, and my year of dalliance with her will be over. Then this week ...

I've been quite comprehensively fucked over. She got back from her two week holiday in the US last night, I hadn't heard much from her because she was apparently on a farm in Washington and had no internet access, I hadn't had any phone calls, but I'm an easy-going guy. It was great that she managed to get back on the right day so we can go on our holiday together to Corsica on Sunday (two days away fact fans). So we went down the pub ready to get a bit of food, and for about the fifteen billionth time this year she said "Simon, there's something I want to say" Cue, yawning, churning stomach feeling and brain feverishly working out the various possible things she could want to say to me. "I haven't been in the US for the last 2 weeks, I've been in Georgia [as in European country] visiting the diplomat I had a fling with at Christmas to see if I still had feelings for him. And I still do". How in the name of sweet Jesus am I supposed to ...

Time for the lovelife update. I'll make this relatively brief. After the romantic weekend in Marlow mentioned below, I was very, very ready to move on and put it all behind me, so I did. Although it was difficult, I stopped phoning her, stopped inviting her to things and even told her I didn't want her to come to a family wedding I had previously invited her to. I did the thing that I've seen various of my friends do when they go through a breakup and started contacting people I hadn't spoken to in months. I also went through all my belongings and chucked away loads of things that I no longer needed (anybody want an old personal CD player, or a slightly worn pair of Doc Marten shoes). It was all very cathartic. I did feel guilty about cancelling the wedding invite on her at such short notice (I'd never make an evil dictator) so I suggested we go to the cinema one Sunday afternoon, she leapt at the chance. When we met up I was weak for about 1 minute and invited...

I ran the Great North Run this weekend. With a mere two weeks training and a gut as big as Croydon I managed to drag my sorry ass round the half-marathon in a time of 1hr 56 (although our official time was 2 hr 4). I have no intention, repeat loudly, NO INTENTION of running a marathon. EVER. My legss have only just stopped aching, three days later and I got a cold. It hurt a lot, and I didn't even do it for charidee.

Lovelife update to follow... Went walking in Snowdonia at the weekend, Wales revealed its damp side to us. Standard late night London escape, Gus and Baz driving way too fast up the motorway and A5, weaving between cars, swearing at all other traffic, and in one unforgettable moment (in the always having nightmares about it sense) Gus overtaking down a long straight and then appearing to simultaneously forget the location of the next bend and how to work a gearbox - a feat made even more amazing by the car being an automatic. Arrived in Betws-y-Coed (a small Welsh town, not an American style university) just after midnight only to find an array of campsites loudly proclaiming 'No pitching of tents after 4:30pm/midday/10am. None at all. NO EXCEPTIONS. THIS MEANS YOU FATNOSE.' A little bit more driving found a suitably damp field and we bedded down for the night. Saturday saw us get the train to Conwy, and embark on a planned two day, 25 mile walk across the Carneddau. After a...

Bittersweet weekend. I couldn't have asked for a better time on Saturday night and Sunday morning. From the moment I picked her up in a torrential downpour on Saturday evening to the moment we said goodbye in the blazing sun on Sunday morning was nothing more than a procession of joy and pleasure. The venue was fabulous, a Victorian stately home overlooking the Thames near Marlow, the food and drink were in keeping with the surroundings, the setting was stunning and the company was perfect. She looked stunning, and despite my fears about her being a little freaked out by the whole jaunt (or kidnapping as she kept referring to it) she accepted the whole experience with good humour and poise. And for all the much feared build-up about this weekend being the time we would talk about our relationship, and why I thought we would work as a couple and she didn't and where we were going blah, blah, blah, yick, when it came down to it all that needed to be said was that I don't gi...

Interesting weekend coming up. Tonight (Friday) I'm going out in Leicester with the lovely L (oh, and a group of her friends too). I don't think anything is going to happen - in an eminently predictable development in the context of my romantic life she's just started seeing someone else. Shame, as I reckon there's a bit of interest there, and a lot of interest from me. And then tomorrow, I'm going out for dinner with her to talk about it . She thinks we're going out for a quick dinner in town, but I'm making one final, noble, doomed romantic gesture in an attempt to woo her and I've booked us in to a posh hotel and restaurant in Marlow for the night. The plan being something like "a similar ploy works in the movies".