The Heart Of The Matter

"Hello?"

2011-01-13T03:09:00.002Z

It has been approximately two and a half years since I last wrote here. Looking back at what I’ve written, I can’t get over how much I made of what I would now consider to be small events. I mention MySpace (one for some of the older kids reading). I have entries on there from 2004, that’s almost seven years ago. I feel so much has changed, yet I’m not really any wise. I do, however, cringe at some of the things that I wrote. I reveled in the nightlife and how I’d be on guest lists. It’s a surprise I even remembered any events to write about. But I did. And those were real things that really happened to me.

So where am I now? I’m with degree (BA Hons) and still living in Leeds with my three best mates. I work for a major mobile communications company trying to recover debt from customers. Jaime, Ella and Lyndsay are all distant memories, with only occasional Facebook messages and BBM’s. And what about the other girl that was in my life? The will-they-won’t-they dynamic I had with Faye. Well, she’s still in my life. And we are still will-they-won’t-they.

Last you heard she was dating a new guy after leading me on. Well, they stopped seeing each other after several weeks and when she returned to Leeds we barely saw each other. We’ve seen each on-and-off since, never really committing to anything. I still can’t help but wonder: what the fuck is going on?

One drunken night at a mutual friends birthday I declared my love, and to be fair to Faye, she took it on the chin and we still joke about it to this day.

After a period of maybe four or five months of no contact, I decided ‘enough is enough’ and we began talking again, almost daily now for two or three weeks. It was almost as if not having a New Years kiss spurred me on. That’s not to say the only reason I’m making any sort of effort is because I was sad I didn’t have a New Years kiss, except with two of my housemates which was totally bromosexual. I think I’ve just kicked my arse into gear, a new year and no longer afraid. We’ve been making plans, discussing our days and reliving old memories. We had planned a road trip to the seaside as our first ‘official’ date, but that was postponed as she has had to move house ASAP because her friend split up with her boyfriend who’s Dad just so happens to own the house they live in. Being the strong man I am, I said I’d help move boxes in return for a cup of tea. Cheeky.

What I’ve realized looking back is how I have completely changed, yet I’m exactly the same. I think the word is: older. I’m so much more ready to get into a relationship now than I ever have been in my whole entire life. Every time I’m with Faye I find my old emotions flooding back, and they’ve never felt so real or current. I find myself, as sad as this is, waiting by the phone for her to call or text. Maybe we’re both ready to take the leap of faith that is so definitely overdue.

I’ll keep you updated.

"Always Too Late"

2008-08-12T13:41:00.005Z

A couple of weeks back I travelled down to Leeds to visit the housemates. We ended up randomly painting our living room... So, we now have a feature wall. Pretty sophisticated if you ask me.

One of my other reasons for going down was to see Faye. Since moving home for this job I haven’t stopped thinking about her. Well, I obviously have, but every so often she’d crop up in my mind. Little reminders such as the perfume someone was wearing to their accent all brought me back to memories of her. A couple of days before my visit I received a text message from her. Spelling mistakes aside, I thought she might be drunk.

Faye: “Mr Noah. You better be in Leeds on Thursday or else! ;-) xxxx”
Noah: “Yeah I’ll be there. As well as Wednesday, Friday and Saturday xxx”

So let’s just cut to the chase, whilst decorating my housemates phone buzzes. It’s Faye. So she asks me to pass her the phone but I already slid it open and saw the text which says:

Faye: “Oh, I forgot to tell you too, as of yesterday Chris and I are official.”

“Who is it?” my housemate asked.

Stumbling over my words I said, “Fayola.” Fayola? What. The. Flip?

That night we met up with Faye at her house for pre-drinks. The drunker she got the more she flirted. And as we walked to the bars, she was being very tactile. There was interlinking hand holding (oh yeah, try saying that when you’re drunk), butt slapping and lots of couple type hugging (you know the type, the way couples hug and not the way friends or family hug). Confusing signals. All the while I knew that she had this boyfriend.

You would have thought that Jaime would have made me learn my lesson, obviously not. Fooling me twice, well that’s a shame on me.

The train ride home was somber. I could only ask myself: what do I do now? The only tangible avenue I can take is moving on (which I'm pretty much good at now). But who knows what will come once my job is up and I get back down to Leeds.

"Lesson Learned"

2008-08-05T11:12:00.002Z

Note to self: when planning on getting drunk do not take any personal belongings. On three seperate occasions now I've lost personal belongings when drunk. First my wallet, second my iPod, and now my house keys. Thank God I'd taken my car key off the keyring before I left the house...that coulda be trouble.

"A Reminder"

2008-07-30T14:32:00.001Z

Seeing photos of Jaime with her boyfriend Rory was always going to shake me a little. So when a new photo album from their trip to Portsmouth popped up, I was intrigued to look. Even though I knew it would hurt, I had to look anyway. Curiosity got the better of me, I guess. And I found exactly what I expected: the “couple” photos.

There were photos of them in embraces, kissing, holding hands and frolicking on the beach. And it did hurt. Thoughts of ‘that could have been me’ went through my head. I suddenly felt something come over me. Then I had a thought: I was glad that wasn’t me in the photo. Jaime looked happy, but what she was doing while she wasn’t around Rory told a very different story. Seeing Rory looking blissfully happy, I felt this overwhelming pity. Doesn’t he have the right to know what his beloved girlfriend has been doing?

I brought it up with my friend Kayla. “Haley says that she really loves Rory though.”

“If she really loved him, which I doubt she actually does, she would respect him and wouldn’t cheat on him.”

“True dat bro, true dat,” I replied, with a smile.
Knowing what I know, the ‘what could have been’ with Jaime has now become the ‘what I wouldn’t have wanted’...and right now, with Jaime, that’s the way I like it.

"Stupid Girl"

2008-07-29T15:13:00.003Z

Ex-girlfriend Ella has now become Ex-Friend Ella. I found out at a party I attended a week ago, while I was trying to hook up with one of her friends (who incidentally didn’t know I was Ella’s ex), that she’d told everyone I was gay after I broke up with her. Being slightly wasted and I didn’t really know how to process the info. So, I did what any intoxicated person would: I got even drunker, while composing a text message that would sum up perfectly how I felt.

N: “You told everyone I was gay? WTF?”

Perfect, huh? No, I didn’t get a reply. No, I haven’t spoken to her since, nor do I intend to, unless it is of course confronting her (which I do intend on doing).

But, this little drama has raised a few questions for me. There is the age old question of can you ever really be friends with your ex? After breaking up with Ella and keeping in touch and staying friendly, I thought it was possible, but apparently this isn’t the case. Also, for a good Christian girl, supposedly, how can she be vicious? Well, that’s her going to hell then.

"The Single Stigma"

2008-07-07T14:24:00.003Z

Something I've noticed lately, that I hadn't taken that much notice of before, is the stigma attached to being ‘single’. Whether it be the look of pity that comes over someone’s eyes as they find out you’re without a partner or whether it’s expectation that if you’re on your own your partner must have come to the party on your own. No, I came on my own, and I’m proud to admit it. I’m not an invalid, and I don’t need to be taken places.

Over the past few months, since I came home, I’ve been to several family gatherings, which means getting to see family members I haven’t seen in quite some time. And of course I get the inevitable questions: how are you? Good health? How is Leeds? How is work? And then onto the question I don’t care for: so you’re still single then? And, don’t you have a girlfriend then?

“No...no girlfriend.” I reply.

And the look of pity crosses their faces. I should say that it’s my choice to be single and that I enjoy the lifestyle I lead, but on the other hand I shouldn’t have to defend myself, or justify the decisions I decide to make. If they want to pity me let them do it. At the end of the day, they can’t go out any night of the week and party like the best of them.

The look of pity I receive so often comes from, in my opinion, people assuming that your choice to be single is the only choice you have. No one wants you. When in fact, I could be in a relationship right now, but when it came to choosing, I found myself not ready to give up the liberties you have when you’re single. I love the single life, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I love that I don’t have to fight with anyone about what DVD we’re going to watch. I love walking around the city on my own, admiring the sites. I love not having to discuss my plans with anyone in case it clashes with their plans. I love being an ‘I’ and not a ‘we’. I love ‘table for one’ dinner parties...OK, not so much with the last one, but I think you get my point.

At another of the said family gatherings my uncle, who is a twice married, twice divorced Rod Stewart wannabe, invited my cousins (who all have girlfriends) to a dinner party he was having for his girlfriend (can people over 40 still refer to their partners as girlfriend/boyfriend?) and even though I was in the room, sitting next to one of my cousins, he failed to invite me and left the room. In the wake of this, I realised several things. The first being that, apart from my one year old cousin, I am the only single family member left. The second is that because I’m single I’m apparently not very good company and not eligible to dinner parties thrown by the serial dater that is my uncle. Are single people considered lepers? Overreaction, I know. But still, it was obviously the reason why I wasn’t included...but that’s not to say I would have gone anyway. It’s the principle people.

"76 Days Later"

2008-06-29T23:36:00.004Z

A whole bunch of minutes, hours, days and weeks since my last blog and I feel no further forward, nor do I feel I’ve gone back. In that bunch of minutes, hours, days and weeks I had a one night stand (with Haley’s friend) and then reconciled with Faye because of that one night stand, and by reconciliation I mean we kissed, and drunkenly discussed a relationship before she ran home – as the cool kids would say: WTF? I moved home for a job opportunity with my friend Ashley which will last until September. Oh, and I also had an encounter with Jaime...twice.

The first time was when she came to Leeds to visit Haley. I rejected an invitation for a night out with them and settled for picking her up from the train station, slightly awkward conversation with her over cappuccinos, and watching Indy tackle the Temple of Doom with Glynn (who is moving into a new house with us when our lease at our flat is up.) The next morning I met Haley and Jaime and found out she’d basically drunk too much wine, and ended up losing her purse, ID’s and bank cards. Is it nasty if I call it karma? She saw me and hugged me (awkward...) and started sobbing onto my shoulder. I offered her a hoody (my good deed for the day).

The next was when Haley invited me to Tiger Tiger in Newcastle with Jaime. I had work, serving people pints of beer and cocktails, so decided to head over after work after knocking off early (it was a Monday so we weren’t particularly busy.) Being the designated driver for the evening, having driven straight from work changing my t-shirt in the car park adjacent to St. James’ Park, I was on Red Bull. And after some shameless dancing with an inebriated Jaime and Haley, we called it a night at 3am and headed home. I dropped Haley off first, almost on purpose just to see what, if anything would happen between Jaime and me...masochist I know!

Jaime: Your iPod...every song...ugh...it’s like we have the same mind.
Noah: Well I’m glad you like the songs.
Jaime: You need to send me them, or...make me a CD.
Noah: Sure thing.
-silence as we pulled up to her house-
Jaime: You just get it Noah.
Noah: What?
Jaime: Everything. You just get IT!
Noah: Really? Well that’s cool.
-pause-
Jaime: I’ve missed you.
-Jaime hugs me, awkwardly leaning over gear stick and hand break-
Jaime: I really have. I have missed you.
-I try to dislodge from embrace and there is a ‘moment’ the type of ‘moment’ that happens before a kiss ensues, I break said ‘moment’ by pulling away-
Jaime: I really have missed you, you know.
Noah: I know.
Jaime: Well stop being such a guy about it and get emotional.
Noah: Well, I’ve missed you too. (It was half true, I sort of had missed her.)

We hugged, said our goodbyes, and Jaime added: “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

I relayed all of this to Haley over coffee and all she could say was “Poor Rory, Jaime might be a good friend, but she’s such a bad girlfriend.”

So, 76 days since my last blog and where am I? No further forward than I am back? I don’t know. I’m happy being single. Let’s leave it at that...

"Boys Will Be Boys"

2008-04-14T11:30:00.002Z

For the first time in an extremely long time I can honestly say I have no romantic interests in my life. During lunch with Haley (my treat), in which she was relaying the tales of her love life to me, she asked, “So Noah, any girls in your life? Ella? Lara? Faye?”

“Actually, no, there isn’t. Wow.” I paused. “For the first time in a long time I can say I don’t have a girl in my life.” I couldn’t tell whether that was a moment of pride, or horror. “So...this is what playing the field feels like. It feels good.”

That night Glynn, Noah2, and several others had a ‘Guys Night Out’. Around 8ish I headed to Glyn’s flat and drinking games ensued. Looking back, it was a silly idea. I was drunk before I knew it, as was Glyn et al.

Drinking games finished and we headed down to the taxi that took us to Oceana. We jumped the line thanks to my marvellous blagging skills and in we were. We spent a few hours in there, being rowdy like guys are, and after a discussion on the smoking terrace (damn Noah2 being a smoker) the decision was made to head to a strip club.

A city like Leeds is home to a few strip clubs, and we ended up in Blue Coyote. Too much money spent (and several private dances) later, the sun was rising and Glyn, Shaun and I got a taxi home. After a lengthy sleep, my Blackberry buzzing woke me up.

“Noah. Bar Risa for Noah2’s birthday tonight. Be at mine for 8.30ish.” Damn you, Glynn, I was sleeping.

That night turned out to be a drunken flashbacks of bouncing round with Proudy, scoring free hot dogs, eating subway, wrestling with Glynn in the VIP section of Halo, while attempting to dance to ‘Piece of Me’ by Britney Spears. And then my memory keeps slightly less hazy when we get to Red Leopard. Another strip club, but hey, boys will be boys.

The girls were doing their rounds when one spotted my eye. She looked very familiar, but still hot, well, as hot as strippers can in their underwear at 4 in the morning. She made her way over, and offered me a dance. I took her up on her offer and away we went.

While sorting the finance out, she made small talk.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before. You look really familiar.”

“I was thinking that about you.” I replied.

“I mean, it’s not often we get good looking guys like you in here.”

Oh yeah? I bet she says that to everyone, I thought to myself.

In the middle of the dance, she leaned towards me and whispered to me, “If you see me around, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”

What? There she was with her lady bits in my face asking me to respect her privacy? Ok then.

So, after the lengthy, and very expensive, nights out, this past week I’ve been curbing my appetite for partying to do laundry and catch up with TV. Also, I’m giving my poor liver a rest, because, you know, you only get one liver.

"The 'Date' That Never Was"

2008-04-04T11:32:00.003Z

‘Date day’ with Jaime came and went, and at 10.30pm that night my Blackberry buzzed.

“Hi. I’m so sorry I didn’t text you. Had one those stressful days today where you lose faith in humanity. I’m in a mood and I know I’m shit for not texting you. I really wanted to see you before you left for Leeds. Have a safe journey. Xxxx”

Needless to say, I didn’t reply. I hadn’t expected her to text so when she didn’t I got on with what tasks needed completing: laundry, packing, train tickets etc. While we’re talking about trains, a train metaphor for you: Noah’s train has left Jaime’s station (double entendre or what?) and is slowly moving further and further away. I can’t wait to reach my next station, which will hopefully not be another station marked by Jaime. Has the sun truly set on Jaime?

"Another Night, Another Ex"

2008-03-29T16:45:00.002Z

I feel maybe I should stop making plans when I know I’ll see an ex, because that could just be where the drama stems from. The night out with Lyndsey, that I may have mentioned before, is a prime example.

I really tried not to think about her like that but I just couldn’t help it. I bought her several drinks, we danced a little, and held hands as we wandered through the crowds so we wouldn’t be split up.

“We’ll go in there later,” she told me, referring to the VW van the club had converted into a seating area. With all the drinks, conversations, dancing and hand holding I’d failed to remember about the boyfriend.

“I really wish she didn’t have a boyfriend.” I told our mutual friend Lara at the bar.

“I knew, I just knew, you would say that,” she replied, punching my arm, “Too little...”

“...Too late,” I said, finishing her sentence, “I know.” We grabbed our drinks from the bar and rejoined the group.

Lyndsey and I sat talking, and for some reason unknown to me, the conversation turned to Ella. A year on from mine and Lyndsey’s “on stage” kiss, Ella was still ignoring Lyndsey. Lyndsey delved and asked out our break up and what went on. Maybe she was just curious? So I told her. I was very honest about it all, and maybe that was a mistake but what could I do? I’d had a few too many vodka mixers.

Several more drinks later and I sat talking to another of our friends. “You still like Lyndsey don’t you?” She asked bluntly.

“How can I say I still like her? It’s been a year, and people and things change and move on.” Very diplomatic I thought.

“What is it then?” She continued.

“Well, I’m still interested, but would I commit, especially when she’s in a relationship? I don’t know.” She smiled. That answer obviously pleased her. “So tell me about the boy. What’s he like?” I wanted to know.

“Well, he’s my friend, and I think she likes him. But she’s already said tonight that she’d cheat on him...with you.”

And there it was: a window of hope? Then I had a thought: could I really be the other guy? With a few vodkas in my system I probably could. But I wouldn’t like to be cheated on, and I’m sure the new boy wouldn’t either. So after wandering to the next club with my arm round her waist, more hand holding, and some light petting, I drew the line. I can’t be coming home and trying to make it what it was a year ago. I need to let go, and definitely move on. And so I did...and I’m back in my beloved Leeds.

Friends, Lovers, Confidantes...

2008-03-28T19:43:00.005Z

The Girls
Jaime: Was once the love of my life. We dated on and off and on and off for around two or three years, and after a whole lot of drama, we've both drawn the line and moved on. However, 'moving on' is itself filled with the drama, and she keeps popping back into my life.

Ella: We went out for around five months, and broke up last year amid claims she cheated. When the trust is gone, where can the relationship go? We still talk now and then, and it's all pretty friendly.

Lyndsey: We met a year and a half ago, she played Sandy to my Danny. I was with Ella at the time, but there was a definate spark. Things happened. We dated. And then we drifted apart. Although, recently saw her and was told by a friend of hers that she'd cheat on her new boyfriend with me...but I'm not about the cheating.

Faye: Faye is the most recent girl in my life. We meet when I moved to Leeds. We'd probably be in a relationship by now if it wasn't for Jaime holding me back. We had a few drunken fumbles and make out sessions. But who knows what will happen once I finally get back to the city.

The Guys
Glynn: My future roommate and close friend. He also lives in Leeds, and is one of my wingmen.

Noah2: We share the same name, and again, he's in the triangle with Glynn and I. Nights out can consist of me, Noah2, and Glynn.

Danny: My go-to guy when I need to vent. He lives in Newcastle and we still speak quite a lot.

The Friends That Are Girls
Madeline: Probably one of my closest girl friends. She knows pretty much everything, and one of the only two people I know in real life who know about the blog. Her advice is pretty sound, and our meet ups usually take place in the trusty old 'Stateside Diner' over coffee, pancakes and sometimes cocktails bar that my head, as well as my bank account, pays for the next day.

Kayla: The other of the two 'real people' who know about the blog, she features a lot, and sometimes I write about her mishaps in love as well as mine.

Skye: She is my tricky friend. Because I love her so much (we were once crushing on each other as teens) and we have this strong friendship that seems to always be tested with my recent disapproval of her long term boyfriend Aiden. I get so angered when she is treated like shit by him and seems to not care.

Of course, there are so many other people who pop up in the blog, but I'd say these were pretty much the stable characters who appear.

"Comfort"

2008-03-26T00:36:00.004Z

After my night out with Lyndsey, from which I’d found out she’d cheat on her current boyfriend with me, and realising although I’d sleep with her, and Ella (hey, I’m only male), that I felt so comfortable in moving on from Jaime that I felt I could talk to her again. I’d told myself, and her, that in order for me to move on, and get over her, as she had done for me, that I just needed for her to not be in my life. She couldn’t text me when she was drunk, nor could I do that to her. I needed to simply erase her. Looking back, it was quite a harsh move, but it worked. Now, a simple Facebook message here or there couldn’t harm...could it? Well, that Facebook message turned into an IM conversation, which turned into an “I would love to see you before you go; lets meet for coffee.” Of course, that was paraphrasing, the real IM conversation is as below.

Jaime: Hey. How are you?
Noah: Hi. I’m good. And you?
Jaime: Also good.
Noah: So what’s going on? How are things right now?
Jaime: Things are good. Just enjoying being back for four weeks.
Noah: Four weeks? Wow! I’m back to Leeds on Saturday.
Jaime: That’s sad. I was hoping to see you before you left. Maybe go for a coffee?
Noah: Well I’m pretty busy up until about Thursday. Is Thursday afternoon any good, or even Friday daytime?
Jaime: Yeah, both are good for me.
Noah: Nice one. Starbucks?
Jaime: Of course. I’ve got to go. I’ll text you about Starbucks, I won’t forget, haha. Xx
Noah: Alright, well then I’ll be seeing you soon. X
Jaime: X
Noah: -awkward pause before signing out-

Was I being a total guy and reading too much into the kisses? Maybe it was nothing, but maybe it was something. I’m just hoping it wasn’t the something.
I’ve had a couple of realisations lately. One: I’m pretty glad that I’m not in a relationship with Jaime, because if I was, God knows how many times she’d have cheated on me by now. And two: long distance relationships sometimes suck, and I wouldn’t be able to mack on totally hot chicks (who are out of my league) like I did on Saturday.

"Ella, Enchanted?"

2008-03-24T23:47:00.011Z

After I got home from seeing Ella, I was in a state of limbo about Ella. I wasn’t clear on anything, and I still wonder how things can change so fast. Maybe it was just the feeling of seeing her after not seeing her in so long that has made me question my feelings? Could it be my want for a relationship?

It’s confession time. When I got home, Ella texted me, and we kept texting or so for about an hour (can’t wait to see the bill...NOT!). General chit chat, small talk, she, or her parents, have a place in Turkey, she’s going in the next week...with Dairy Product Boy presumably.

Still, even though she loves him, (in the same way she said she loved me?) I couldn’t shake the thought of her. When I saw her there was still that something about her that I can only describe as enchanting - she was the only one I could focus on, the only one I wanted to focus on. She was in the spotlight and everyone surrounding her was in a blackout.

Now though, I’ve had a couple of days, and a night out with Lyndsey, to help me digest my feelings for Ella. They’ve been pushed to the side and I know nothing will ever happen with her while she is with the Cheesy. So, if the opportunity ever does I arrive, I can’t say I’d say no, nor can I say I’d say yes. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

"A Big Mistake?"

2008-03-21T23:53:00.005Z

A couple of days ago I had to revisit my old stomping ground to collect a few documents. I tried to make myself as invisible as possible because of my history there and with the people who were still there (Ella, Lyndsey etc). That night, out of the blue, my Blackberry buzzed.

Ella: Hey, how are you?
Noah: I’m good, I’m home for a while, and you? Been up to much?
Ella: I’m also good. I’m going out tomorrow night. I can’t wait, I might see you. Are you at home right now?
Noah: Yeah I am, got back about a week ago. Where are you going, Liquid in Newcastle? Loads of people from the old stomping ground are going to be there
Ella: Yeah, Liquid. Never been before. How about you?
Noah: Liquid too.
Ella: Woah. Well...I might see you, I might not. Text me if you’re back at the old stomping ground.

Odd? I deleted the texts and took nothing from them, assuming her and her boyfriend would probably not venture to Liquid anymore.

The next night we queue-jumped, and on our way down to the ‘velvet rope’ I saw Ella with her boyfriend, who is nicknamed after dairy produce (cheese – when I first heard he went by ‘Cheesy’ the only thing I could think of was ‘cheesy dick’, and hence forth that was how I put him down to my friend, as all ex-boyfriends do about the new boyfriends). I hurried up and scuttled through the velvet rope. My leg was shaking, but I put it down to the cold. We had just walked from a bar on the other side of the city.

We got into Liquid, and like the queue had predicted, it was full – overly full. We couldn’t move. We made our way up to Envy, which was a balcony bar that overlooked Liquid’s dance floor, and considerably less packed. I easily slid into my old drunken ways. I swear, I don’t have a problem. We met up with Jayden, James, Chris and other guys from our old stomping ground and we hung out on the balcony while getting even drunker. I stood up, about to go to the bar, when I saw Ella, with Cheesy. I turned in hope she hadn’t seen me.

“Noah!” I looked up, pretending I hadn’t seen who shouted of me. “Noah!” She walked over, Cheesy following silently and unhappily behind her.

“Wow. Ella. How are you? How long did it take for you to get in?”

“Quite a while, but we’re in!”

“It’s really full isn’t it?” I kept asking questions in hope that there would be no awkward pauses. I glanced at Cheesy and he was stood, silent, and not even attempting to enter into the conversation.

“Yeah it is. Have you seen anyone?”

“Yeah I have: Chris, Jayden and few of the other guys. How about you?” Again, I asked another question.

“Um, no one.” There it was. The awkward pause I’d been expecting. She turned and said something to Cheesy.

“Well, I think we’re going to go to the bar, so I’ll see you around.” I interrupted. Brooke and I hurried through groups of people to the bar.

“Dude, my leg is shaking. My hands are. I’m trembling. Why?” I told Brooke. It was at the point I had a thought: had I made a big mistake a year ago?

"Too Little, Too Late"

2008-03-19T23:00:00.004Z

It took a whole day or so for this whole ‘not caring’, and ‘just playing the field’ mentality to go out of the window. I come home to find out Lyndsey, who I was, and still am, meeting up with Saturday night (along with a couple of other friends) is ‘in a relationship’. I think I might actually be the walking advertisement for ‘too little, too late’. Example A - Ella got straight into a relationship about a month after we broke up and she’s sill with the guy – I’ve been talking with her, and I don’t want to say I like her again but there’s still definitely feelings there a year on. Lyndsey was single up until about a week ago – I don’t even know the guy. And Jaime...well, which guy is she with tonight? We won’t go there. I always am too little, too late. I always have been, but I’m determined not to be any longer. I think I need to start being more open with how I feel, laying my cards down on the table. Is rejection better than missing out on the ‘what could have been’ moments in life?

"Kiss Me, I'm (a Tiny Bit) Irish"

2008-03-18T14:11:00.013Z

The past week or so has been a blur of drunken nights with other drunken people. I know, I know, my liver will pay for it...but it's just so fun!

I travelled home Thursday afternoon, so Thursday night was spent celebrating Brooke Carminetti's birthday. We dressed up as 'ravers' which was really just a throwback to the 80's - lots of neon and bright colours. I even brought out the Union Jack boxers I got for free in Magaluf, Spain. Brooke's friends turned out in force, except they didn't take it as seriously as Brady (Brooke's boyfriend) and I did. To be honest, I enjoyed the attention, even if it just was girls trying to scam glow sticks from me.

One girl stood out though, Jenna. She's an old friend of Brooke and Haley, and also knows Tanya, Kayla et al. Now Jenna, who's also a twin, was hot. Some girls are hot but they have shitty personalities, but Jenna has one that just makes you want to keep talking to her and you just can't help but find her even more attractive.

"How did I not meet her properly earlier in my life?" I told my friend Danny as we drove into Newcastle.

"Because you're friends didn't introduce you dumb ass." Danny replied. "How did Saturday night go?"

"Well, we to Newcastle again, this time it was a joint birthday night out for Haley and Brooke," I explained.

"Oh, because Haley had one in Leeds, whereas Brooke had one in Sunderland?"

"Precisely," I nodded. "So, we went to the Mushroom, and then onto Liquid."

"Was that girl there? The one who thought you were hot?" Danny asked.

"What girl? A lot of girls think I'm hot Danny." I said, with mock arrogance. "Haley's friend Laura, yeah?"

"That's the one!"

"Yeah she was. I tried my best my friend. Looking back it was a disaster, and there is photographic evidence too. Ah, it was pretty bad. But I'm hoping since I don't really remember it, no one else will."

Then St. Patricks Day. Everyone's favourite holiday, or excuse, to drink their bodyweight in Guinness, or whatever their poison is, and not be judged for it. "Hey, I can't help that I was arrested for being drunken and disorderly...it was St. Patrick's Day." Would that even work? I somehow doubt it. However, an offer to Digital in Newcastle was accepted, even more so when I found out Jenna would be there, and there I spent my St. Patricks Day scouting for girls (while trying to not look like an ass in front of Jenna) and drinking my bodyweight in cheap beer. Cheap beer + hot girls in skimpy green outfits = a very good St. Patrick's Day. Hopefully the luck of the Irish, a part of my heritage, will kick in soon.

"Stop & Stare"

2008-03-15T13:26:00.010Z

Since the Jaime fiasco has died down, it's like I have become a new person. I no longer think about her every day, of course there are always going to be reminders that make me think of her: a certain song, a certain smell, a certain whatever. And I know that she'll always be my one weakness, that one girl that wherever you go, whatever you do, you know you'd always go back to her. And I'm alright with that. Because now I am no longer fixated on her, and waiting on her, and not wanting to start something else with someone else and saving myself (no, not like that) for her.

The Faye situation could have been something special, but I was still holding out for Jaime. Now that opportunity has passed, so I am slowly trying to work my way back into Faye's good books. Who knows what could happen, but I slightly have a good feeling about it. Until something happens though, I'm content with partying with the guys (Glynn, Oli, MJ etc) until then.

Although Jaime will always be that one weakness, that one girl you never quite get over but you can move on from, it's like I've rediscovered the pubescent teenager I was once. Girls...everywhere. And I'm no longer comparing them to Jaime. Blonde girls. Brunette girls. Boob girls. Ass girls. Girls girls. Girls. I've become some sort of horndog...but this can only be a positive step away from Jaime.

"You Think You Know"

2008-03-11T01:10:00.006Z

After feeling so optimistic about Jaime, and not only having to move on, but wanting to move on, she came back to shit all over my optimism. A night after my conversation with Hayley, as I was settling down to sleep, my Blackberry buzzed. I would have usually left it but curiosity got the better of me.

J: Come on Noah, this is unhealthy. You can’t just end a few years of friendship.
N: I’m not ending it, I’m putting it on hold.
N: PS. I hope you had a nice birthday. - (I know how that sounds, but I honestly meant it in the nicest possible way.)
J: I can’t even tell whether you’re being sarcastic anymore. - (Come on, I’m not that evil.)
N: I’m not being sarcastic, I’m not evil. I meant it.
J: Well what about all of your status’?
N: Facebook? Really? – (At this point I couldn’t believe she was judging my emotions from the status on my Facebook profile...most of which are usually “Noah is trying to print photos.” Or “Noah is tired/hungover/hungry” (delete applicable.)
J: Yes. I just think it’s unhealthy Noah. We were good friends. And your Facebook status’ are very emotional.
N: Oh, I saw your friends post to you about a ‘certain someone’s status’. I take it that’s me? - (I didn’t snoop, honest, Facebook users out there will know if two friends are your friends it will occasionally post there wall post on your news feed.)
J: What? That’s not even about you!
N: Ok, well I’m sorry. – (Like fuck was I sorry.)
J: See! – (Yes, this texting session is over bitch...and I’m NEVER derogatory towards woman, I was brought up with respect.)

“At this point I was fuming!” I later relayed to Hayley’s twin Brooke. With maybe some intent to change her opinion on Jaime like mine had. “Argh, just thinking about it makes me mad. Then, she had the audacity to change her Facebook status to ‘Jaime thinks people shouldn’t read too much into things, and stop thinking it’s about them when it isn’t, and it also shows stalkerish tendencies.’ What. The. Fuck?”

“She really put that?” Brooke responded, in her high pitched voice.

“Yeah she did. On fucking Facebook too. It makes me feel like I’m back at school. Stupid drama over stupid things. It really has got to me, and it’s made me realise she isn’t the kind, loving girl I thought she was. If she had respect for me the way I had for her, she’d let me do what I need to do to move on.”

“Noah, she really isn’t, not only is she going out with Rory, but she’s been fooling around with another guy, AND,” Brooke paused, “She’s been sleeping with her flatmate. All during her relationship with Rory.”

“Well,” I tried to find words, “then she really isn’t, and I’m glad you told me, because this has just made such a difference in helping me move on, it really has! You think you know someone, but you really don’t have any idea.”

From that moment on, Noah lived happily ever after...without Jaime. The End.

"Getting There"

2008-03-06T00:43:00.004Z

I arrived back in Leeds with the whole Jaime/Rory situation weighing heavily on my mind. Luckily, my friend Glynn was on hand to give me an ultimatum I actually wanted to hear.

“Look Noah. You can do two things. Sit in, sulk, and maybe even cry you pussy. Or you come and get drunk with me and Noah2.”

“What time do you want me to meet you?” was my answer. In theory this seemed like the perfect plan. Getting drunk with a few of the guys at Noah2’s house, beers, movies, PS3 – what could possibly go wrong?

A bottle of red later (wine, not any sort of poisonous substance), I staggered along the road to meet Glynn, who had bought with him a crate of 24 bottles of beer. “Heavy night or what?” I asked him.

“You know it.”

After watching ‘Run, Fat boy, Run’, Pro Evo on the PS and the 24 bottles of beer divided between the three of us, we decided to venture out onto a local indie night. Some familiar faces with even less familiar music. I staggered around the dance floor, clutching to a pint of beer as if my life depended on it. I’ve always been told that I never do know when to stop, and it’s true. I just don’t seem to have that mind set of “OK Noah, it’s time to stop.” And I’ve always told myself it will come back to haunt me. While I lost my friends, I entered into a texting conversation with Jaime. Cue the ‘stupid...’ comments.

N: Are you happy? (Referring to her earlier Facebook status.)
J: I really am.
N: Well, that’s all I needed to know.
J: Noah?
N: Look you’re happy, you’ve moved on. Can we just leave it? Like not speak.
J: Just leave it? You texted me! Look, you had your chance but you didn’t step up.
N: I didn’t step up? How many times have I stepped up in the past only to have people come in and shit all over it...you being one of them.
J: Why are you texting me now? Because I am actually happy?
N: Can we honestly just leave it. You’ve moved on. I deserve to also. I just hope you’re happy.

I left the club with Glynn, and we were just silent, but like it is with friends, it wasn’t awkward. And like me, the walk home made the city seem at peace too.

“After I’d sent that final text I honestly felt like a release, I stood taller, I looked at things different,” I told my flatmate A, “and it sounds corny, I do know that, but I just feel so good about it.”

“So you should Noah. If anyone deserves it, it’s you...you’re a nice guy.”

“If she’s happy, and she’s moved on, then why can’t I?” This line was almost becoming a mantra to me. Positive energy breeds positive effects.

Several days passed, and it seemed as if Jaime got what I was saying. Maybe she had begun to understand how I was feeling. My Blackberry buzzed. Hayley. Jaime must have told her.

After a lengthy recap of the situation I continued, “What I need is for her to not be in my life until I’m over her. That’s the only way I can get down to the heart of the matter, so to speak, and get over her.” I told Hayley on the phone.

“Yeah, but Noah you did have your chance...”

Before she could reply with anything else I cut her off, “And she had her chance. And she didn’t take it. And now we are where we are. She’s happy and I am...getting there.” Hayley “a-ha’d”, and I made excuses and took a shower.

That night, as the water splashed on my body, I felt it was almost cleansing me of whatever love feelings I had for Jaime and I was getting there...I was getting there.

"Valentines, Shamlentines"

2008-02-17T15:24:00.005Z

It has been said that you should follow your gut instincts and I do try to do that. After getting the feeling that Jaime hadn't really been willing to talk to me, with little to no contact since our vague plans of me going to stay with her, my hope was renewed when I was made aware that she'd written on my wall (not my actual wall, Facebook of course.)

"And how's Noah doing? I hope you're well. xx"

Nice, friendly, and polite. Good stuff. Slowly working my way back, I thought to myself. I'd later ask myself the question all guys want to know the answer to, or at least be given a clue towards: why are women so confusing?

I hadn't had much time to think about Jaime with my mother's birthday fast approaching and trying to organise my travel arrangements home, so I half heartedly kept returning her comments.

After travelling home with a not-so-well known CBBC TV presenter, via train, bus and another train thanks to overhead cables fucking me over, I got home three hours later than planned. Just in time to celebrate my mother's birthday, she cracked open a bottle of bubbly. What a lovely homecoming, or so I thought.

"I have this little theory," I once told my new friend Glynn, "that every time I come home something always goes wrong. Friends have changed. I've changed. Travelling is a nightmare. Something tends to go wrong, and I'm never sure whether I'm just over thinking it or whether that's just my luck." Since Ben’s departure, since which I hadn’t spoken to him, Glynn had fast become a good friend of mine.

After a good night’s sleep, which was desperately needed, I woke up to news I’d sort of expected, but still didn’t want to hear.

“Noah!! I have gossip for you. Text me back and I’ll ring you. Haley x”

Oh great, Valentine’s Day and I’m about to hear something about two people I probably don’t care about and how they hooked up and it was hot, I thought to myself. I was totally unaware of what I was about to hear.

“Noah. You won’t believe who has a boyfriend.” Haley spat at me.

“So you and that guy you live next door and have shared the lift with for months are finally going out?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know I’m still completely in love with J.”

“Jeez. Are you kidding me? Anyway, go on; tell me the big news...” There was a pause, almost as if Haley was rethinking whether she should tell me.

“Well,” another pause, then a slight giggle, “it’s Jaime! With a guy called Rory.” I was gutted. My stomach felt like it had been pulled out.

I quickly retorted like that famous character Lauren from The Catherine Tate Show, “Well, am I even bothered? No.”

“Well Noah, you do sound kind of bothered.” Was she fucking surprised? This wasn’t the first time she’d broken news about Jaime to me (i.e. the time she told me about Miguel when I was out to celebrate.)

“Well, I’m not. So you can report back to Jaime and tell her that I don’t fucking care what she does. I just hope she’s happy.” Click.

So I ended up spending Valentine’s Day with my mother, sweet yes? The catch? We went to a funeral. My next door neighbour’s father, who was very old, passed away, and I offered to stay another day and go to the funeral. I have to admit, I did have an ulterior motive. I’d heard one of my childhood sweethearts would be there. And who isn’t curious to see their childhood sweethearts again? Back then she was blonde, blue eyes, bubbly, and reminded me so much of one of the Olsen twins. So suffice to say, although it was sad day, I was anxious/curious/interested (delete applicable) to seeing what she was like some years later.

As my mum and I walked up the steps to the church, when the congregation were waiting outside, I spotted the childhood sweetheart. She was a brunette. A still looked as lovely as before when she was blonde. We smiled at each other, with the look of recognition, as she registered who I was, cross her face. I heard her whisper to her older sister, “He looks so different.” I smirked. Then remembered I was at a funeral.

“I always find churches a great place for eye candy.” I told my flatmate A over one Starbucks too many. “I think it’s the whole forbidden love thing that makes it great. I remember once at one of my cousin’s Christenings I spotted the cutest girl I’ve seen in a while, she had that Spanish vibe going on, and you know I’m all over foreign girls.” I said, referring to the girl from the Czech Republic I’d kissed a couple of nights before on one of many nights out. “And for the rest of the service, I couldn’t stop thinking about this sweet, Church girl, who looked about 18 or 19. And she even helped out with the Sunday school.”

After the funeral service, my mum and I left and I gave a polite smile to the childhood sweetheart as she passed on her way to the burial in my neighbour’s car. She smiled back, looking shy.

“She looks so different,” my Mum said on the way back home in the car.

“Yeah...different.”

"Too Lost In You"

2008-01-31T00:41:00.004Z

After several days of waiting for THAT text from Jaime, and still without THAT text from Jaime, I decided to join Haley and Brooke Carmientti, along with Brooke’s boyfriend and an old friend Tanya in Sunderland to see them all before heading back down south, or at least what I considered down south, to Leeds. Haley would be joining me in Leeds, but we still had good nights out together.

Innfusion was our first stop of the night and with it was semi-busy. There were a few familiar faces, and a lot more not familiar faces, but the trebles were cheap so I was game. Dancing on the table with Brooke ensued as the trebles disappeared and before I knew it we were off to The Black Bull for cheap drinks and dance music.

“Tanya! Let’s get a fish bowl!” I shouted to her over the beats of DJ Alex.

“Sex on the beach, Noah!” I received the message loud and clear.

Several days later I met Haley in town and we went for Starbucks, and even with the copious amounts of alcohol probably still in my system, I was still on my health kick.

“Grande Citron Tea please. To sit in.”

So, over my Citron Tea and her English Breakfast Tea, we discussed that night’s events.

“That fishbowl? Tanya didn’t even drink it. I had like three quarters of it and was absolutely fucked. I cannot even remember getting to Liquid, nor do I know why they actually let me in.”

“Well we saw you in there, and then you went missing.”

“I remember getting another drink in there. Then I lost everybody so I went outside to phone people.”

“Ohhh, ok.”

“Yeah. Then I remember ringing Jaime.”

Haley raised an eyebrow. “Really Noah? Drunk dialling? It’s never a good idea.”

“Well you can say that because you don’t drink. Anyway, I really don’t even remember what we spoke about. Apparently though, she was laughing at me, because I kept saying ‘intense’ and ‘no way man’.” I didn’t say this to Haley, because she and Jaime are quite close, but even though I don’t remember what we spoke about, I just remember it feeling so good to hear her voice again. I had to ask: what did this mean? There were so many questions running through my head about Jaime. It all felt so familiar. When was I going to admit that I loved her?

“You won’t believe who’s calling me right now.” She said, sipping her tea.

“Are you kidding me?” I said, in shock.

“Hi Jaime. How are you? Yeah I can talk. I’m just in Starbucks...with Noah.” There was a pause. “Ok ring me tonight. Bye. Yeah, she couldn’t talk once she knew you were here. So I wonder what it’s about.” She said, smirking and raising her eyebrow.

“Oh, be quiet.”

“So where exactly did you go after you left Liquid then?” Haley asked.

“I was lost...in the city...on my own. Can you believe that? Sunderland is hardly the safest place to be lost at night in. Even with the police presence, it’s still pretty scary. But I was gone. I don’t remember a thing. Oh wait, I remember climbing into a taxi, and thinking I was going to be sick. And the taxi driver pulled over and started shouting at me...something about an Indian wedding in the morning and I couldn’t possibly be sick in his cab.” There was a comfortable moment of silence as I scanned the room, like I usually do. “You know what?”

“What Noah?” Hayley replied, in the way that she always does. Almost as if she’s sick of me, even though I know she isn’t.

“In some crazy philosophical world, me being lost on Thursday night would be some great metaphor of me being lost in love with Jaime. Like, her love is confusing and I need to find it to get on.”

“Yeah, that’s flipping crazy alright. You sure you’re not just over thinking it?” Hayley always thought I was over thinking things, such as the wink at the end of a text message, or a certain glance someone may give me.

I left Hayley, telling her that I was going to miss my bus. Instead, I wandered down to the Quayside in Newcastle. It was one of the few sights of home that I missed. It was where Jaime and I had gone on our first date. It’s a place Madeline and I always visit during our catch up sessions. It is where I took Elle after we’d broken up. We spent the full day together after we officially ended, and it was nice. I looked around, and even in the chilly air or January, it hadn’t changed. The views. The people. It was exactly how I remembered. Then I had the urge to talk to Jaime. It was a shame I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk to me.

"New Year, New Drama"

2008-01-17T16:32:00.002Z

Christmas came and went with very little drama, but this year, I was determined to make New Year a blast. After making plans, cancelling plans, and making more plans, I decided I’d best spend it with family – the people you can always count on. Too many self-made cocktails later, I was ringing in the New Year with a Christmas wreath as a hat, making myself first foot.

Several days, and several hefty hangovers later, I was invited for another night out in Newcastle.

“I really shouldn’t go,” I told Kiri over the phone, “I mean, not only is my bank balance seriously suffering, but I think my health is too!”

“Are you kidding? How many times have you been out?” She asked.

“Is it bad that I can’t remember?”

After some gentle persuasion on Kiri’s part and some heavy cravings for a bit of a party on my part, I was off out into Newcastle. Already the night had started rocky.

“Aren’t Haley and Brooke coming?” I asked, referring to the Carmientti twins, who knew a good night out.

“No, apparently Brooke is down, and Haley wants to try and cheer her up.” It was no secret that there’d been tension between Haley and Brooke, and Kiri and Samantha ever since their “girly holiday” to Zante ended with arguments over whether to sight see the Old Town or shop in the New Town, “where the shops are actually open.”

Fifth wheeling tonight, I thought to myself, thanks twins! Since the feeling of fifth wheeling isn’t exactly pleasant, I thought several red bulls might numb the awkwardness...OK, several vodka red bulls...OK, OK, several double vodka red bulls. Several turned into a number, and a number turned into me being really drunk. Alas, me being really drunk turned into dancing on podiums with random strangers while Kiri, Samantha, and their boyfriends, looked on, and of course, the obligatory drunk dial/text.

“In my defence, Jaime started it.” I told Kayla, as if I needed a defence. “She texted me saying that she couldn’t stop thinking about me. And it would be rude to not reply, would it not?”

A Caesar Salad, and a glass of water, due to my health binge, later, I was still recounting the tale of my drunken text spree to Kayla, who like me, is romantically confused.

“Well, then I thought it would be a great idea to quote One Tree Hill, but come on, when is it ever a great idea to quote a TV Show, let alone One Tree Hill?”

“What did you say to her?”

“Haha in my drunken stupor, I thought it was romantic but don’t judge me. I texted her saying ‘I’m the guy for you Jaime Green.’ Well after that several more texts were passed back and forth and then I fell asleep in bed.”

“Noah, you can’t just fall asleep on what could be the love of your life you know.”

“I’m sorry.” I said, smirking.

“Well what did she think to your little quote?”

“She thought it was cute, but she was drunk too so...”

That night I received a text message.

J: Are we just gonna pretend we didn’t text what we did then?
N: That could work for me. I get shy when I talk about my emotions.
J: Well, what do you want to do?
N: Well, I think we should go for it.
J: What happens if it doesn’t live up to all this hype that everyone’s built up.
N: Fuck everyone else Jaime, this is us, I know it can work. We can make it happen.
J: Do you want to come to Lancaster sometime, you know, to see if it can work?
D: I was thinking that. Great minds.
J: How about next weekend?
D: I kind of already have plans with my friends from home who I never get to see. Sorry! But don’t take this as a sign. This is not a sign.
J: Bad start already. Well I’ll text you.

Uh-oh, not good, I thought to myself. But I simply couldn’t ditch my friends for the potential love of my life, or could I? It would go against everything I believe and everything I’ve preached, but I guess this is what love feels like. Then there it was, the question I’d always dreaded. I may have dreaded it, but I couldn’t help but ask: so this is what love feels like?

Wait, what?!?!...was I in love?

"Festive Fun"

2007-12-28T23:52:00.002Z

They say you never forget your first love, but I haven't yet had the chance to. After a semi uneventful train ride home, a lot of texting took place to ensure my night out in Newcastle was sorted. And it was. Another birthday of another acquaintance and I'd secured a "night outon the town" as the locals say. Although I knew Jaime would be there, what I didn't count on was all of my old feelings flooding back for her. It made me feel like how I did two years ago, a year ago... three months ago. Now.

“You look like Lauren Conrad, you know that?”

“Who is she?” Jaime responded.

“Only one of the hottest girls in the world,” I thought to myself. After taxiing together into the city, with half catch up half flirting going on, we decided to head to Players, the sports bar. "In Players we kinda kept our distance. Her on the dancefloor, me stood at the bar. But I kept like glancing at her..." I told Aspen. "Ah, to make sure no other guys try their luck?" "Exactly Aspen, exactly." But it was after Players, in the club Mood, that we finally connected. After a trip to the bar half an hour previously I found my glass empty. "Bar run! Anyone coming?" I shouted at my party of people over "Gimme More". "I will," Jaime piped up. Being slightly more than half drunk I didn't think anything of it. Walking back to the party of people on the dance floor, she said something, and then quickly stopped.

“What?” I asked.

“Ah, nothing, nothing.” She replied.

“No, say it.” I guess I sort of new what she was about to say.

“No!”

“Yes Jaime, just say it.”

“Well, I didn’t think I felt this way anymore but as soon as I saw you tonight it was just Wow!” She confessed.

“I know! That’s how I felt! I’m not even kidding.”

“Let’s go talk in that booth over there.” She instructed.

Several days later I took Skye to the Stateside Diner I’d discovered with Madeline. “Now, I’ve always been the type of person to be against PDA’s, but, this is Jaime. Jaime Jaime. It was like necessary, you know?” I told her, tucking into my pancakes with Maple syrup, and slurping up some of that good ol’ Cola. “I’ve also never been dry wanked in a bar before. So that was different.” I saw a woman glance over at the mention of “wank” before quickly glancing back. “Foreplay in the club followed by nothing on the dance floor.”

“What?” Skye said, looking puzzled.

“Well, like, after my ‘happiness’ subsided, we went back to the dancefloor and decided that we should keep it a secret and just tell everyone we’d been talking.”

“Did they buy it?”

“If they did, it was an awfully long chat we had, and with everyone knowing our history, it’s not exactly believable.” I sipped more of my Cola.

That night Jaime and I both attended a meal at Est Est Est on the quayside in Newcastle to reunite friends who had supposedly lost touch. What followed was a night of lustful glances, longingful glazes, and several strong cocktails containing flavours of vodka I never even knew existed. (Orange, Vanilla and Spice Vodka anyone?)

“So whats the deal with you and Jaime?” Aspen asked me at the end of the table, where the guys were sat.

“What do you mean?” He looked like he already knew.

“Come on Noah, this is our group of friends...news spreads fast.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? It was only a bit of ‘festive fun’. Nothing serious.” I was saying, exactly what I thought Jaime wanted to hear.

“Are you sure you see it like that?”

He had a point. I pondered for a second. “Yes...” To be honest, I was unsure. And I knew I looked it. There it was, the frown that gave it all away. Aspen raised an eyebrow. "Well? What are you getting for desert?"

"Slumber Party"

2007-12-23T12:45:00.002Z

After my brush with depression, alcohol induced of course, and before my visit home for the Holidays, I decided it was time to get in touch with Faye. I had sent her some not so favourable text messages during my stint in Rehab (the club, not the clinic.)

“They were something along the lines of ‘I hate myself. Why am I a cunt?’ It was such a bad idea.” I told A.

She responded with: “Well, yeah, they do sort of make you out to be a manic depressive.”

“Not too attractive then, eh?”

That night, along with A, Alyson and others, including Faye, we decided on another late in Oceana.

“I’m surprised we’re not all sick of Oceana yet.” Faye told the group, charmingly, in her Northern Irish accent.

“Yeah, we should really all branch out after Christmas.” I replied, downing the rest of my pre-night-out home made cocktail I liked to call a ‘Leedtini’. “There’s got to be smoky, little, jazz clubs somewhere and I’d love to go to a comedy club too!”

“I’d be up for that,” Christian chipped in, buttoning his shirt on what would be his first night out in almost a month.

“Well then, it’s a plan. No backing out now, you’ve made a commitment...” I poured slightly more vodka into my plastic Halloween cocktail glass, “...a verbal contract of sorts.” I liked to think I knew what I was talking about.

After going straight from the taxi to skipping the line and straight into the club, all of us were feeling the effects of those ‘Leedtini’s. Later, I asked myself: had it been those very cocktails that had later come back to haunt me? As usual we headed straight to the bar, where Faye managed to charm an older guy into using his wristband offering free drinks all night. Score. Grinding, dancing, and many-a-kisses followed until too many free drinks later, we stumbled back to our flats, luckily, both adjacent of each other.

“Before I even knew what was going on,” I explained to Aspen over the phone the next day, “she was half-undressed, falling asleep under my covers. And as I lay next to her, I couldn’t help but feel the urge to throw up. I mean, it wasn’t her, obviously, or she wouldn’t be in my bed, but I’m still blaming those shitty homemade cocktails. I had a bucket next to my bed all night, just in case.”

“So you didn’t do the deed?” Aspen asked.

“No, because that would have been unethical Aspen.”

We woke up the next morning, spooning, and not in the least bit feeling slightly awkward.

“I need to go.” And with that she was gone. I turned over and went back to sleep. Waking up later that afternoon, I looked around and saw her possessions. I guess I had my own ‘walk of shame’ to do. I gathered her stuff, including clothes and shoes, and took them to her flat. Knocking on the door, her flatmate answered.

“Hey, I just have some of Fiona’s stuff.” I said, most probably blushing.

“Faye!!” She shouted. “Haha, what exactly did you come home in this morning Faye?”

I hung around for a while, making small talk, mostly about how long we’d both slept after she left. Normality: I liked it.

Later that night I got to thinking: could you ever really sleep with someone without actually ‘sleeping’ with them? Was it an act that brought people closer together, because, after all, it is one of the most vulnerable states you can be in around someone?

Several days later and I was homeward bound on the train for my family’s annual Christmas and New Year celebrations. I got a text from her telling me she’d had the best night’s sleep in a long time when she’d slept with me, without actually ‘sleeping’ with me. I still had it.

"Three Times A Fool"

2007-12-08T23:51:00.002Z

It’s been said that Rehab is a humbling place...I just found it depressing. Rehab, a club in Leeds, holds an 80’s night every Monday. 80p entrance fee, 80p Vodka and Coke’s, and 80’s music: who could theoretically ask for anything more?

One Monday night, I’d made plans with Elsey and a fellow Noah to check out Rehab, Noah2 knew people who worked the doors there, and of course, we jumped the line. Inside I noticed the over-obvious flirting between Elsey and Noah2. “Oh great, third wheeling tonight, again!” I thought to myself.

Over at the bar, where I had downed two, albeit small, Vodka and Cokes I looked over and Noah2 and Elsey were looking particularly close. I motioned them over and we hit the dance floor, where they flirted more and I bumped into some friends. I made small talk, and Noah2 and Elsey headed to a sofa. I followed with my drink, and turned to see them in a lip-lock. “Oh jeez.”

“Guys, I’m not feeling too good. I’m going to head home.”

“Are you sure? We’ll come.” Elsey offered.

“No, no! You stay, have a good time! Enjoy the madness of it all. I’ll see you later.” And with that I took off, out of the club, and towards the train station. Once I got to the train station, I debated a taxi. “No, I’ll walk.” It would clear my head I thought. But as I walked along Wellington Street, I couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with me.

“All of my life I’ve never been successful in relationships. I’ve always been the wingman...the third wheel. Why? What the fuck is wrong with me?” I thought to myself. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” The swearing wasn’t doing anything, but I felt it was needed.

“I must be ugly. Unattractive. Not just looks, but as a person too. That must be why no one likes me. I have a slight double chin. My face isn’t totally symmetrical. My eyes are more blue grey than piercing blue.” Maybe I’d hit depression. Or maybe it was the Vodka, as is usually the case. Or could it be that my ‘friends’ had taken advantage of my good willed nature and my proneness to partying (it was probably my only vice) one too many times?

So, about a month back, I introduced my flatmate A to Ben. They hit it off and I saw they had chemistry. I was pleased I had been successful in my unintentional match making. On several more nights out, A had invited me, knowing Ben would be there (they’d been texting). And of course I’d go, it’s good to get out and socialise. It would result in more of their flirting and I’d be by myself, looking on, or looking out for potential dates. Result? Not so much.

“I think I like Ben, does he like me?” A confided and asked, after their third ‘date’ to which I had again played wingman to both.

“Um, I think he might do. Should I enquire?” See, I could be a good friend.

Several nights later I was cooking with Alison and we began discussing the whole A and Ben situation. “I just feel like they’re using me to make it seem like we’re all still friends while they discover more about each other. Like I’m the excuse they keep meeting. Why don’t they just go on a date? Isn’t that what normal people do?” I told Alison, whilst preparing chicken breasts.

“I get it Noah. They want to make it seem like they don’t like each other and therefore want to be with you so it seems all friendly and shit.”

“Fucking exactly.” I paused. “My language is terrible!”

The final straw came when I had managed to persuade Alison to join A, Ben and I on what would be their fourth ‘date’. “OK, but only if you buy me a drink.”

“Deal! I think tonight is the night they actually kiss, and maybe more.”

And boy I wasn’t wrong. As Alison and I made a bar run, she received a text from A: “We’re going back to Ben’s.” Alison and I rolled our eyes at each other.

“Even we knew their intentions for tonight so why even bother making us come to this God forsaken place just to ditch us and leave us here?” I told her in the taxi on the way home.

“Well, that is true. But I kind of liked it there.”

“Oh, you would!” I said, laughing.

A couple of days later, after A and Ben had slept together, I told A that I was no longer responsible for chaperoning their dates. She told me she wasn’t even sure she liked him, and she that she was confused. “Ok. Well. I’m shitty with advice.” I didn’t want to get any more involved, Ben was already convinced I was trying to sabotage their non-relationship.

After all of this, I couldn’t help but ask: had I become vulnerable to being considered the foolish wingman? Why had I been relied on so heavily in these two situations? At the end of the day, it wasn’t going to be me who would be getting laid was it?

I could answer one of my questions though: Noah1 is nobody’s fool, and won’t be treated as such. Find a new chaperone guys and girls, Noah Austin is out.

"Season of Love?"

2007-11-19T12:55:00.001Z

There are several sure fire signs that Christmas-is-a-comin’. For one, the red Christmas cups are now available at Starbucks. As is the Christmas menu, which includes my addiction: the Eggnog Latte. Another sign is the Big Issue vendors who have now started wearing Santa hats in an attempt to get people to give that £1.50 for a magazine most won’t even read. “Merry Christmas, Sir!” Slightly early, I thought to myself, but it was from the heart.

Fast forward to that evening and I was in Oceana, partying, again. Faye was there, but had to leave early as she was on placement at a primary school the next morning. After a few sly, short kisses, she said she was leaving.

“Why do you always text me at five and six o’clock in the morning?” I asked her, in an attempt to make her stay longer.

“Because I want some!” She replied, with no hesitation and a raised eyebrow. She turned and walked out.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I said, as I watched her walk away. Maybe she expected me to follow her, opening an invitation for her bedroom and my Durex, or maybe she was just ‘throwing it out there’.

The next morning I woke with a steaming hangover, not remember much more of the events from the night before after Faye had left. I came out of my bedroom and made myself a cup of tea. Christian was in his room, playing PS2. I sat myself down on his bed.

“Hey dude, good night last night?” He asked.

“Um, yeah, from what I remember. I don’t even know when, or how, I got home.”

“It was about 4ish, you didn’t wake me, don’t worry. I was getting some work out of the way.” What was he, I thought to myself? A drug dealer? A pimp? Who works at 4am? “You and Faye then?”

“What about me and Faye?” I responded, in mock shock, thinking he was referring to the Trojans on my shelf.

He rolled his eyes. “You must know that she has her eyes on you to be her boyfriend.”

Oh shit. “You think? I thought she just wanted, you know, friends with benefits. I don’t even think I want a relationship. I can just about deal with my own life, never mind having to deal with anyone else’s. Nah, she can’t want a relationship. She doesn’t.” Then it dawned on me. “Oh shit, she does.” I was trailing on. I was possibly still drunk.

“Noah, dude, chillax.” Christian was forever coming out with stupid little phrases like that. “You’ll need to decide whether you want to be with her, because she definitely wants to be with you. It wouldn’t be fair to string her along.”

“Wow. Philosophical.”

The next night, and still slightly hung-over, I played host to our very own flat party. A very inebriated Faye was in attendance. I had decided to analyse her signals. I had to work out: Faye...friend or girlfriend?

“Why do you never talk to me except when you’re drunk?” She slurred, in her very sexy Northern Irish accent I might add. Girlfriend.

I chose my words wisely. “It’s you. I always talk. You only ever seem to text me when you’re drunk.” I grinned.

“That’s not true.” She replied, playfully punching my shoulder. Friend. She lay back on my bed, eyeing me up. Girlfriend. “Can I borrow your belt?” Friend.

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes, and she kissed me goodbye, in a non-friend, but definite girlfriend, type of way. Girlfriend.

A day later, with Faye still playing on my mind, and after an expensive lunch in a Tapas bar with a course mate, I was pre-Christmas Christmas shopping. You know, looking at potential gifts for others, in hope of finding something for yourself. Looking at the fragrances, I smelt something familiar. It was ‘The One’ by Dolce & Gabbana. I had bought it for Ella last Christmas. Sentimental, sexy and understated. It reminded me of everything I had ever liked about Ella. I picked it up and sprayed it onto a test card. I fingered the simple, golden logo that was printed on the bottom of the card. This time last year Aidan and I were shopping for our respective girlfriends. The only difference now was that Aidan and Skye had made another year, where as Ella and I only managed three more months. I slid the card into my back pocket, and left the store.

Several streets and too much money later, Ella was still on mind. I needed to shake this. I dumped my purchases back at the flat, changed into my joggers, grabbed my iPod and went jogging. Was I hoping that maybe I could run away from the memory of Ella? I went to wipe a bead of sweat from under my nose, and ‘The One’ lingered on my hand. I had a thought: maybe it was time to talk to her.

"On The List"

2007-11-07T16:14:00.002Z

It was a couple of nights later and several of my friends, including Hayley Carmienti, who is also in Leeds, and I went to the biggest club in Leeds, Oceana. Oceana boasts around six bars on four different themed floors, from Boudoir, the sexy bar with beds and drapes, to the Aspen Ski Lodge with real life log fire, and more impressively a New York disco, complete with a mirrored and fluorescently lit dance floors. Faye was there that night, but with a different set of friends. We had since been around each other, but only as friends. However, there was always flirting; from my part at least. I rarely misread ‘the signals’, but I still had to ask: was this feeling I felt mutual?

“I rarely venture to a club or bar without being ‘on the list’.” I told an old friend in Newcastle over the phone, while I contemplated new clothes in Harvey Nichols in Leeds. “It sounds pretentious, but it’s not, it just makes life a hell of a lot easier.” No que-ing, sometimes no entry fee, always at least a reduced entry fee, and a hell-of-a-lot of the time V.I.P. access. What could possibly be so wrong about that? Oceana was no different this couple of nights later. Except, after all, a night out wouldn’t be a night out if it didn’t involve a soap star...this is Leeds we’re talking about.

After que-jumping and fee-jumping, we were in. It always felt better to be taking the V.I.P. staircase. As we toasted our first drinks, I cheekily smirked and decided dedicate it “to our connections.” We laughed and downed our free champagne. Even though I’d only been in Leeds less than a month, I’d made so many connections of people who work the doors, behind the bars, and on the promotional sides of things.

Several hours, as well as several vodka mixers, later, all eyes turned to the Grand Venetian Ball Room, where an ex-Australian-soap-star-turned-pop-star was due to sing. Hayley and I were next to the stage regardless and decided to stay. Throughout her set, the Oz soap-star singled me out of the audience, pointing to me, singing to me and giving me ‘the eyes’. After a quick flirt in a meet-and-great session she held in Boudoir, I was left feeling back in the game and with a confidence boost.

Vodka, Vodka, and more Vodka later, I locked eyes with Faye. Before I knew it, it wasn’t only our eyes that were locked. Not only were we kissing, passionately and intensely, but our hands were locked together, almost as if we were holding onto each other for life.

“It was kind of kinky.” I told Ben, who had fast become the guy I’d talk to about anything, in the same manner as I had done with Danny. He raised his eyebrow, looking up from a newspaper he was half-heartedly reading. “You didn’t let me finish, it was kind of kinky...in a weird way. There was definite lip biting from her.” I looked around the train station. He had agreed to wait for my train with me as he needed to buy tickets from the station anyway.

“That is kind of weird. Personally I’ve never enjoyed the lip biters.” He replied, turning a page. “I’ve never seen Starbucks so empty.”

“Quiet period? I sort of enjoyed it though?”

“What? A quiet Starbucks or the lip biting by Faye?”

“Well...both. But more so the lip biting.”

On the train back to Newcastle I had a lot of time to think. Had I become some sort of masochist? Maybe that could explain why I had started talking to Ella, and thinking about her an awful lot, again.

Stepping out onto the platform at Central Station in Newcastle, it felt like everything had changed yet nothing had changed at all. Everything was different, but everything was the same. Maybe most of the changes had occurred within me.

Hayley Carmientti and I plotted to surprise Kayla on her birthday, and it worked like a charm. She was surprised, and even reduced to some small tears. After climbing into taxis, we arrived in Newcastle. “Ah Newcastle” I thought to myself, “So good to be back.”...but something was up. It didn’t feel the same...could it be that for once I wasn’t on the list? That night all of our friendships were tested, especially when Aidan got angry, which made us all feel awkward, because it was for no apparent reason. Although, we did leave them waiting outside Mushroom Bar for half an hour, just as they did to us earlier in the evening after going to The Other Rooms to meet Aidan’s friend from work, without even telling us. Could this be the reason? Then, in the line for Liquid, we turned around and Skye and Aidan were gone.

“I haven’t seen them since. Skye texts me telling me I have to come back and visit, but what she doesn’t get is I have a life down here now. To be honest, I’d rather spend money on a good night out in Leeds than on a train fare back to Newcastle just to see her leave us without saying goodbye again.” I was getting worked up. I always do when it comes to Skye. “What’s stopping her from visiting me?” I told an uninterested course mate over a presentation we were working on in a library.

Maybe I should have taken Danny’s warning about my visit, but I was just so hopeful that things would be different. I had a thought, and I knew exactly why things were so unsuccessful. I’d moved away and I was the one who had changed. Whereas my friends back home hadn’t moved on, they hadn’t changed. I had to ask the question: when did friendships get so complicated? This wasn’t on my list of things I’d come to expect.

"Taking The Leeds"

2007-10-15T00:01:00.005Z

“I am in Leeds.” I thought to myself, after unpacking my belongings and setting out on a walk with my new flatmates Christian and Alison. We walked for five minutes until we were in the main shopping area of Leeds. “I can’t believe I’m here.” I was right. I had made it. It was a fresh start.

A week of hard partying later, including several make out sessions with random girls I don’t remember the names of, “yes, that’s how I roll” I later joked with my flatmate Christian, I decided to take it easy. It had all caught up with me, and I needed to save money. So, in an attempt to do so, I threw myself into my work. I caught up with reading I’d fallen behind with and I began reviewing albums in hope of getting some work. I’d been told NME would give you £2-per-word. I could deal with that.

“I’m sick of staying in.” I told Danny over the phone. “I just want to go and explore, meet new girls, keep on looking, you know? What’s going on in Newcastle?”

“To be honest mate, you’re not missing much at home. It’s pretty stale, like nothing’s changed.”

“Well, next weekend I’ll be home for Kayla’s birthday, so that could be exciting.”

“Yeah, it could be. Just don’t get your hopes up.”

“Um...ok.” That was strange. “Well, my kettle is boiling, yes my kettle. Jeez. I’m like an old person now.” I hung up. What did he mean by that? Maybe he was just looking out for me I thought to myself.

One night, a few days later, several of my flatmates and me went to Gatecrasher. Pre-Gatecrasher, in my money-saving mode, I’d bought a bottle of red wine for £3 and thought it would be a brilliant idea for me to drink it before leaving.

Picture this: a dark room, too many glasses of red wine, followed by too many shorts of vodka.

“There was lots of kissing, some body shots; add a little dirty talk, and wallah, that was my night.” I told Danny the following day, missing an appointment because I was too busy nursing a hangover. “I just remember me taking a drink from my glass and her whispering to me: ‘Stop it! It’s not fair! You’re making me so horny!’ I was just like ‘um...thanks!’”

“Then what did you do?”

“Took another sip, and she told me to ‘Stop it!’...again! Girls down here sure are a lot more forward than in Newcastle, which is completely not what I expected. I had to ask: could I use this to my advantage?

Across the city, a few nights later, my new friends and I were in Halo. It was a church that had been converted into a nightclub, which must have clearly caused strict Christian groups to cry out “blasphemy.” Anyway, it was in Halo that I was introduced to Faye. At first I noticed her confidence more than anything. She wasn’t a slut, but knew how to work it on the dance floor. She had that sexy thing going on. We flirted with each other, and I felt ‘the spark’. It can’t be described, but you know it when you feel it.

That night I got home and I thought. I wondered if the girls in Leeds were more forward because they knew what they want. They took the lead, and got what they wanted, when they wanted. But if women could do it, why couldn’t I? Maybe I should take the lead, then that way I won’t have situations that reflect what happened with Kaci, my best friend dating her before I did, and Jaime, having Miguel think he felt more for her than I did.

"...Goodbye To You: The End Of The Beginning."

2007-09-21T14:23:00.002Z

With my move to Leeds getting ever closer, I decided now would be the time to make final memories with friends and say proper goodbyes. Saycon Pittsburgh was the first to go, moving to Germany for a year after landing a job looking after children there. After a hop, skip, leaving party and final supper meal later, she was gone.

“Going, going...gone. It’s like one by one we’re all leaving...and things will never be the same.” I told Madeline over another one of our famous lunches, which involved very little lunch and a lot of cocktails.

Our conversation led us to adulthood. “I was talking to Danny, Skye and Aidan the other week and I was just like, how old are we? We were talking about bills, rent, and insurance. We’re adults now. I have a bank, with a big, BIG, overdraught!”

“It’s scary isn’t it?” She replied, knowing exactly what I was talking about.

There comes a time of year in Newcastle when you can feel the seasons change, almost as if it were clockwork. It was several mornings later, on my way to meet Madeline for breakfast at the Stateside Diner, that I felt this change. It was 8.55am and the air was crisp, no longer soft. I walked from Central Station to the Stateside Diner and noticed that, although the leaves were not necessarily orange, they were no longer green. I couldn’t help but think that I was in the middle of change.

Over breakfast, Madeline and I discussed change, our friends and lives. After my stack of pancakes and her mushroom omelette, we went shopping. We wandered, without aim, around the city, in what I thought of as my farewell tour of the city I love and know: Newcastle. We stopped at the Monument, and I looked around. This was my home. But a crisp breeze reminded me of changes – the change in Seasons, and the change I’m making in my life.

Although I knew that I’d be back, saying goodbye to Madeline made things feel final. We wished each other luck, hugged goodbye, and I took my final metro journey home.

“I can’t believe this is goodbye,” I thought to myself, while crossing a bridge that overlooked the Quayside. But this was, essentially, the end.

The next morning I packed up my car and set off for Leeds. It had taken days of packing, deliberating what to take, and saying goodbye to my friends and family, but I had done it. My place looked bare and empty, but it was clear that new memories for new people would be made just as I would make new memories in Leeds. The next chapter...well that’s still unwritten.

"I Heart Newcastle: The Beginning Of The End..."

2007-09-12T10:34:00.001Z

There comes a point in everyone’s life where moving on is the only thing you can do. For me, that time is now. It took several trips to Ikea, in which I bought essentials for my new apartment, and the correspondence between my new landlord and myself for it to finally set in – I was leaving. An unofficial farewell night out with my old friends was thrown in the city on Thursday. Combined, I couldn’t help but ask the question: was this the beginning of the end?

Brooke picked me up and took me to her house, where Haley was waiting, ready to go...apparently. Of course when we got there, both decided to get changed and I was sat for another thirty minutes as my beer buzz wore off. Brooke reapplied her hair extensions and in a moment of boredom, I tried one of them on, giving me a mullet that could rival that of a guest’s on ‘The Jerry Springer Show’.

After hair extensions in, hair extensions out, hair extensions back in, jewellery on, jewellery off, jewellery back on, high shoes on, flat shoes on, high shoes back on, we finally climbed into Brooke’s 07 Mini One and headed into the city.

It seemed that the more vodka I drunk, the more positive comments I received about my new found blondness. I wasn’t complaining. One girl even told me I suited being blond more than I did my natural brown colour. “Um, thanks.” I answered, as if it were a question.

Seeing the many old faces, and noticing the faces that weren’t there, made me realise that we had all moved on, and were all ready for new challenge. Although we were able to move onto bigger and better things, there was always the feeling that we’d regroup and be able to share our experiences.

In my drunken state of mind I began contemplating my move to Leeds. With this contemplation, I had a thought: why was living in Newcastle so extraordinary? It was a question I brought to Madeline’s attention when we met for “lunch and cocktails” several days later.

“I just love Newcastle. I know it so well, I know the places to go, the places not to go. It’s just home.” She replied.

“I mean, where else would we know where to go for lunch and cocktails at 1pm for a reasonable price?” I replied, half laughing, half honest. I began thinking, once I had moved there would be no more spontaneous “lunch and cocktails” in the city, and Newcastle would no longer be a short bus ride away. My meetings with Madeline, in which we should share the new goings-on in our lives, would have to be planned months in advance.

I have argued for so long that Newcastle is great. I have always said that it combines the values of the North, which is the friendly atmosphere and community spirit, with a nightlife that could rival Hollywood or New York. New bars opened practically every week, and it seemed that there was something somewhere to suit individual’s tastes.

“I’m going to miss it so much,” I confided in Madeline. “It’s such an amazing city with such character and history.”

“Noah,” Madeline replied, sipping on her Margarita, “Leeds is great too, you know. They have the Corn Exchange and places like that, plus, the nightlife is meant to be amazing. So when I come down to visit, you’re definitely taking me out!”

Looking to the future made me think: was this really the beginning of the end? Sure enough, it was the beginning of the end; the end of one chapter in my life. But was this a case of the glass being half-empty or the glass being half-full? With the glass being half-full, I simply decided that now, it was the end of the beginning.

"A Little Older, A Little Wiser?"

2007-09-03T21:21:00.001Z

My return from Barcelona brought some unwelcome questions that I hadn’t prepared answers for: What’s happening with you and Lyndsey? What’s happening with you and Jaime? What’s happening for your birthday?

My birthday was here and although I was a year older, I felt none the wiser when it came to women. Whilst sitting with Danny at breakfast one morning, I had a thought: what had I really learned about girls? That maybe I should turn gay. Well, maybe guys wouldn’t treat me as bad. Then again, although they treat me bad, and are confusing, I just can’t help but love the women.

“What have I really learnt in the past year about women?” I asked him.

He looked up from his bacon, eggs and baked beans, took a sip from his O.J. and said, “That you go for the cunts who treat you bad.” A woman with a child on the next table looked at him. “Fucking children.” He scowled at me.

“Well, I could have told you that. I honest to God think I'm no wiser than I was a year ago.”

A serious relationship, and several failed attempts at starting two serious relationships later; I was still getting burned by the girls I tried so hard not to get burned by. I had to think: was there any joy?

I looked at several of my friends. Samantha and Mark. Brooke and Brady. They had all managed to get into relationships, and find joy, and even love from them. How had they got it so right?

“Looking back,” I told Skye as I drove home from dinner with her, “every girl I’ve ever been with has been quite a bad experience.” Then I thought: maybe I had conditioned myself to not put myself out there fully and embrace the love that could be. “Ella was just a whole negative experience in itself. She was everything I wasn’t, and that just didn’t work for me. Jaime, well, she played me, and now she fucking wants me to go to lunch with her, just as ‘friends…or whatever.’ And Lyndsey, well, she blanked me on holiday.”

“Yeah, I can see where you’re coming from. But you can’t just give up. There’s someone out there Noah.” Ah, good old faithful Kayla: The eternal optimist. She’d found love at an early age, well, fifteen, and has been with him for the next four years. Her optimist was contagious.

“I guess so. But Jesus Christ why the stress?” I arrived at her house and told her I’d see her tomorrow. I was planning to be her guest, using her gym membership in a bid to lose weight and get fit for my move to Leeds. Maybe a toned, muscular Noah would attract new girls.

9am the next morning. “Hey. Lying on the beach getting a tan. Mwahaha. What the weather like there? Raining? What you up to? X” – It was Jaime. Didn’t she get I didn’t really want to talk to her? Maybe she didn’t get it because I actually did want to talk to her. I still liked her, but the Miguel situation still played on my mind.

Logging onto Facebook, which is pretty much the new MySpace, I saw Lyndsey’s status. Her summer was apparently over and she wasn’t happy about it.

“It’s probably because she missed out on your Summer Lovin’ Noah.” Danny texted me.

“Shut up! That’s just corny!” I closed my phone. The sun shone in my garden as I stood out there drinking a mug of coffee. I had a thought: maybe that’s all Lyndsey was – a summer romance that never was. But I had wanted so much for it to be, and it wasn’t. I knew I hadn’t tried hard enough.

So, the only thing I could figure out was that, although a little older, I certainly wasn’t a little wiser. Unanswered questions don’t bode well for a ‘wise Noah’.

"Escape to Barcelona"

2007-09-01T13:36:00.002Z

After avoiding instant messages, phone calls and text messages from Jaime, I decided I needed to take ‘Operation Complete Ignorance Will Make The Situation Go Away’ up a step and I booked myself on a flight to Barcelona and stayed there for four days. Thank God for family living abroad, in particular my self-proclaimed “fabulous” gay brother.

So after a morning, and some of the afternoon, spent either in an airport, or airborne, I landed in the city of Barcelona. “I am ready to forget England and my drama there,” I told myself. After a bus ride from the airport, in which my brother had told me I’d gotten fat, I arrived at my brother’s apartment. We decided to drop my luggage off and then head down to a café come bar and meet up with his friend Diannah.

She was an African beauty, who was a one-time actress and had guest starred in many of Britain’s most famous dramas, such as ‘Casualty’ and ‘Eastenders’. Now, she teaches English to Spanish adults, while being hungover from the night before.

“Hi daahhrling! It’s great to meet you!” She greeted me in an accent that was so clearly exaggerated, but so clearly worked, as she kissed both of my cheeks. “Is it too early for wine?” She asked, ordering red wine with tonic.

My brother and I looked at each other, my brother almost telepathically telling me ‘I did warn you.’ She went onto talk about how she is playing two guys, French Marvin, and a guy called Dan. French Marvin is “lovely” but Dan has the “most perfect penis in the world.”

After spending the day in my brother’s boyfriend’s salon, I decided that I wanted to celebrate my new blondness, and wanted to test the theory that blonds have more fun, I decided to see what Barcelona’s night scene had to offer.

That night we had a Columbian meal, which included several hefty glasses of fine red wine. Half-buzzed, my brother and I headed to Diannah’s apartment, where more alcohol was consumed. Even more was consumed on our walk to the bar where we met more of their friends.

Several vodka and mixers in the first bar, with measures triple the size of what I'm used to, later, we merrily rolled along to ‘Club Mondo’. Along with Diannah, my brother and me, were about five Scottish friends of theirs. They’d all worked in Barcelona for the Summer, but were soon to return home. French Marvin and his friends were there, as was Albert, an American man who had managed to get us VIP Guest list in several bars.

‘Club Mondo’, a bar that overlooked Barcelona’s famous harbour, was beautiful, and it truly made you feel like a VIP. Of course, with this came VIP prices, so my brother and I shared several more Vodka and Mixers, along with a drink or two American Albert had scored for Diannah, who decided she wasn’t drinking that night.

We spent the night dancing, and I lost my self in what Barcelona had to offer. Jaime, Lyndsey and all the drama from England were gone. I was happy just to be in my brother’s company and having a great night. I had a thought: was a new hair colour, and escape to Barcelona, alcohol, and dancing all it took to let this drama go? Was it because I was in a new country that I decided I didn’t need old drama? Whatever it was, my night was drama free.

Several more Spanish cocktails followed in a new club ‘City Hall’ and the club closed. It was 4am.

“NO! I don’t want to go home. The night is young…C’est la vie! ...No...I mean Carpe Diem!” I swayed, whilst American Albert handed me a can of beer. “I love it here! I want to experience full Barcelona!”

“I know Noah, but I'm tired. We’re going to the Picasso museum in six hours time!” My brother pleaded. It was no use. I was a lost cause.

“Fuck Picasso! I want to party!” I began dancing under a marquee outside the ‘City Hall’ club.

“Listen, if you want you go home, I’ll look after Noah.” Diannah told my brother.

“No, I'm staying with him.”

We ended up at some house party where a pretentious young girl from London tried to make us think she knew what she was talking about…she didn’t.

“I'm tired. Let’s go.” I said to my brother. It was 7.30am. While we were leaving the grande apartment that seemed to have a million rooms, I ran into one of the kitchens, grabbed the Doritos, and ran. Diannah and my brother followed.

We stopped at a café that had just opened for the day: Diannah ordering a glass of wine, my brother a coffee, and me an iced coffee. We got home at 8.30am and I paid the price for the next two days.

“I’ve never vomited so much in my life. It was just constant. I couldn’t keep anything down.” I told Danny when I got home. “But hey, I lost four pounds. And that’s good considering I’ve put on twelve since May.”

“Well, what’s good is bad and what’s bad is good.” He told me.

“What the fuck is that? That’s not a saying!” I laughed. I knew what he meant, every cloud has a silver lining. And maybe my drama in England was my escape to Barcelona. And my escape to Barcelona was my great night out. After all, it had been an escape after my break-up with Ella that had helped me out. Was escaping the new dealing head on with your problems? It was an interesting thought.

“So what are you doing for your birthday next week?” Danny asked me.

“Good question…”

"Someday We'll Know - Part Two"

2007-08-20T22:26:00.001Z

Someday we’ll know if love can move a mountain. Someday we’ll know why the sky is blue. Someday we’ll know why I wasn’t meant for you.

“Oh great, Kiri is by herself.” I told Skye, whilst in my head debating whether I should go back – not only wanting to save Kiri but to have things out with Jaime, to find out where I stood, truthfully. “Aidan, stop the car! I'm getting out!” It was all quite dramatic.

“No Noah, you’re staying. You can’t go back by yourself.” Skye insisted.

“Kiri’s by herself. I'm not going back to see Jaime. Why would I want to? She’ll probably just hurt me more.” I lied again. Well sort of. Part of me was going back to see Jaime, even though I knew that it would probably hurt me more.

Aidan pulled over and I jumped out. I ran back to StoneLove @ Digital where we had been and went back in. I look all over for Jaime and Kiri. I couldn’t see them anywhere. I looked for Madeline but also couldn’t see her.

“Great!” I thought to myself. “No good deed truly does go unpunished.”

I left StoneLove and went into The Other Rooms, which is next door. There Kiri was, sat with the Carmientti twins.

“I'm so sorry I told you that. I just didn’t want to see you be made a fool of.” Hayley gushed.

“It’s alright. I’d rather know now than when I got into a relationship with her.” Another lie. It wasn’t all right. It was almost as if she told me, not expecting it to effect me. I just couldn’t help but feel I might have been over-exaggerating, something confirmed by Brooke, who told me to “get over it. You two go on about stuff but you never do anything about it.” To which I told her to, quite bluntly, “shut the fuck up.”

I decided that I needed to speak to Jaime. I texted her, after seeing several missed calls from her, and said: “I got out of the car. Where are you? I think we need to speak.”

After what felt like an hour of waiting for a reply, I made my way to the taxi rank with Kiri. It was good just to forget about the situation and talk about our future, especially with Kiri since our views on stuff are quite similar. And as the taxi made its way over the Tyne Bridge, with the Quayside lit up the way it was, I couldn’t help but feel a little cathartic. Talk of the future, that nights events with Jaime, and just knowing I’d been anonymous in a new city – it made me feel like I was ready to move on.

Was it this that would make it easier for me to move on? What was it that made me know that I'm ready to start again? It was an interesting thought.

The next morning, or should I say afternoon, Madeline and I went into the city and had a late, late breakfast; and over my pancakes with syrup and waffles and syrup, I told her about the events of the night before. Surrounded by Elvis, Marilyn Monroe and James Dean memorabilia, Madeline nodded, and was supportive, which is what I felt I needed more than anything. It was then that I had a thought: I was really going to miss these random trips into the city. Everytime we saw each other was like a catch-up, but it felt as though we’d never been apart. Would things change after I leave?

As I settled down for an early night, I just couldn’t help but think that someday I’ll know why these things happen - if love can move a mountain, why the sky is blue, and why I wasn’t meant for you.

"Someday We'll Know - Part One"

2007-08-19T15:55:00.001Z

Another night, and it was another celebration. I’d found out that my planned move to Leeds for university was successful and I was leaving September 22nd. So, I gathered a group of my friends, who were also celebrating, and we headed into the city to toast the future.

I had met up with Skye and her boyfriend/might as well be fiancé Aidan. Aidan was driving so Skye and I slowly got drunker and drunker, opting for cocktails. After drinking several Cosmopolitans, followed by a Mango Margarita, I had successfully persuaded Skye to leave Aidan for the night and spend a night on the town with me.

“Noah I'm scared. This is my first time out ever without Aidan.” She confessed to me as we walked to the next bar.

“Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. I'm a veteran.” I reassured her. To her credit, it must have been nerve wracking, especially since Aidan was almost like her security blanket. After arriving at the next bar and meeting and introducing more friends to Skye, I texted Madeline. “We have a breakthrough! Skye is out without Aidan!! See you later! XX”

As more drinks flowed, so did my emotions. It was then I saw Jaime. Since our night at her house where things got hot and heavy, we’d barely spoken, with the exception of a text here and there. We’d both been busy and we both have lives. Sometimes that just happens, I told myself. My friend Lauren had visited from London so Ashley and I had spent from Friday to Tuesday entertaining her and showing her the sights and sounds of the North East of England. We’d played football in the park, rented movies, been the beach. It was a good weekend. So when I saw her, it felt good. I asked her where she was heading after the current bar, Huxters.

“I'm not sure, probably just see where everyone else heads too.”

“Well, I’ll be at StoneLove at Digital, so yeah, look for me if you go there.”

We kissed goodbye and my friends and I moved onto StoneLove. There we met up Madeline, her boyfriend Adam, and their friends Curry and Lucy. Lucy was a fashion designer/photographer, whose style was reminiscent of the ‘bohemian chic’ Mary-Kate Olsen, and Curry was her roommate who worked with Adam. Both nice, warm and friendly…but that could have been the poppers.

It is said that the truth is sometimes only told when you’re under the influence, but what excuse do the sober people have? It was after the Jack Daniels, but before the Absolut, that Hayley Carmientti told me the truth about Jaime.

Standing at the bar, having just ordered an Absolut & Coke, Hayley walked over to me.

“Oh yeah, Jaime was going to sleep with Miguel on Tuesday. The only thing that stopped her was that they didn’t have any condoms.”

How was I meant to process this information? Was I thankful for Hayley telling me? She later said that she only told me because she didn’t want me to be made a fool of. But thanks to her telling me, I had all sorts of questions running through my head.

I later asked Ashley whether I was over-reacting, to which she replied: “No, fair enough you aren’t technically together, but you just don’t do that if you’re, you know, in the process.” Good answer.

“You know what Hayley, I don’t need this.” I grabbed my drink, Skye and Madeline and headed to the dance floor. I joined Madeline for a cigarette outside, choosing to passively smoke, knowing she wouldn’t encourage my social smoking.

“Noah, please cheer up. I know this has happened, but don’t let it ruin your night.” She told me. It was true, this summer had been one of the best of my lives – I was successful in everything I tried. I had been so lucky! And I know Madeline, probably more than anyone, was the most proud of me.

“It’s not that. I won’t,” I lied. “I'm just so fucking hungry.”

The clock struck one and I walked Skye to Aidan’s car. “Fuck this. I'm going home. I'm not going to enjoy myself.” I climbed into Aidan’s car, and while doing so, I finally got service on my phone, and a flood of text messages came in.

Jaime – “Where are you? I'm coming now. XX” She obviously hadn’t received my obligatory ‘thanks for ruining my night!’ text. I replied telling her I was in the car, going home after a shit night out.

Kiri – “Please don’t leave me. Samantha and her boyfriend have left me by myself. Where are you?”

I thought to myself ‘oh great, not only is Jaime on her way, but I’ve abandoned Kiri and she’s on her own’. What a great night this was shaping up to be…

"The Ball Game"

2007-08-09T00:38:00.001Z

Some have said that summer simply isn’t summer without a visit to the beach. Lucky for my friends and I, the beach was a ten-minute drive away. So, after a ten-minute drive, in which my air conditioning wasn’t sufficient, we arrived at the beach – we being me, the Carmientti twins, Brooke’s boyfriend Brady, and Saycon. We met Jaime in the fairground and our trip to the beach soon turned in a trip to the fairground followed by the beach.

“Well, looks like we’re in a cart together. I really don’t fancy driving.” I told Jaime, as the others conveniently paired with each other leaving Jaime and I alone. Several fairground rides later we found ourselves on the beach, the very place I’d come to when contemplating my relationships with Lyndsey and Jaime.

“Make. Your. Move.” Brooke whispered to me, as Brady, her and I wandered ahead.

“Tell her to butt out,” Brady added, before kissing her, apologetically.

I smiled. The truth was: I wanted to make a move. But it just felt so forced and awkward knowing that I had an audience. I didn’t want to declare my feelings for Jaime as if I were on stage, delivering lines from some Shakespeare play, whilst having my performance and stage technique being critiqued by the audience (Saycon, Hayley, Brooke and Brady). But before I knew it, the trip to the fairground followed by the beach had come and gone, as had mine and Jaime’s awkward goodbyes. I was in my car driving home

“It just didn’t feel right, you know, having everyone watching. It was like being under the microscope, and I didn’t like the feeling that maybe someone was judging me.” I told Saycon before taking her back to her house.

“Yeah, Noah. You just have to do what you think is right. Don’t let anyone else influence you.”

Although I’d always tried not to let people influence me, was this a prime example of what I had learned was social influence? Social influence: having an action or decision influenced by society. It was an interesting thought.

On my arrival at home, my SidekickII told me, “New Message.” It was Jaime.

“Hey there. Do you fancy coming to mine tonight for some food? Jaime xxx”

“Sure! I love the food! How is 7.30? Noah xxx”

“7.30’s good. See you then. Jaime xxx”

I immediately dialled Kayla. “Kayla. Guess where I'm going tonight?” I didn’t give her the chance to answer. “Jaime’s house. I'm kind of nervous.”

“You are? I'm so excited for you. So is it like a date?” She asked.

“Oh wow, I don’t know. I guess so, I mean, what else could it be?”

“So why are you going round? What are you gonna do round there?”

“She invited me for ‘food’ but since she has the house to herself I'm guessing it’s more of a ‘food and…’ situation.”

“Well, have fun. Let me know how it goes!”

So at 7.25pm I took the five minute drive from mine to hers and I arrived, baring no gifts. And there our ‘is-it-a-date’ date ensued. We said our hellos and small, but pleasant, talk followed.

“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” I asked.

“Well, I haven’t made anything yet but I'm thinking maybe just pasta and a sauce?”

“Oh yeah, sounds good. I’ll get to help too.”

More conversation followed, and as did a bottle of red wine, which I drank over half of, telling myself it would take the edge off…off of what I do not know. Jaime, however, stuck to the water, trying to detox herself after a wild week.

It was the morning after the night before that I had spent at Jaime’s and my good friend Ashley came by my house and I drove us to the park. There, amongst families and lovers, two good friends talked about the night before.

“So, come on, spill,” Ashley teased.

“Well, we kissed and,” Ashley cut me off.

“You kissed? What base did you get too?”

“What base did I get to?” What was I? A fourteen year old all-American boy? “I don’t even understand how that works.”

“Well, first base is kissing, second base is hands, third base is mouth, and forth base is all the way.”

“Ok, well second base. There was a lot of groping. Like, one second we were watching ‘What About Brian’ on TV, and the next we were kissing. We kissed sitting up. We kissed standing up. We kissed lying down, me on top of her, her on top of me. And we kissed spooning on her sofa, before nearly falling asleep. Let’s just say that it was hard to control myself.” I later told Aspen that my balls were practically blue by the time I got home. I was sure this was something that Ashley, or Kayla, or even Madeline would have appreciated.

Driving home though, I thought to myself why hadn’t things gone further? Why hadn’t I hit my blue balls out of the park and ran like my life depended on it to forth base? There was just a sexual chemistry I felt that night, but what I did know was that this ball game definitely wasn’t over.

"Confusion in Clarity"

2007-08-06T10:51:00.002Z

Back in January Aspen, Jayden and I had booked a holiday to Magaluf on the Spanish island of Mallorca. It was sort of a celebration of finishing the academic year and an excuse to have no-strings sex with no repercussions. I’d been told to expect tacky beyond belief, with the usual violent riots at 5am…and that I expected. But once there, it was a lot less tacky and a lot less violent than my expectations had led me to believe. Magaluf consisted of foam parties, raves, popcorn parties, raves, foam parties, vodka, raves, stripclubs, and even more raves. Getting home, the inevitable question was asked by all of my friends.

“Look, the closest I came to having sex was a European kiss on each cheek from a Spanish lady I spoke to in Spanish for a couple of minutes.”

The truth was, Aspen began speaking to her in English, before I realised that she was Spanish and chipped in with what little Spanish I knew. Before bidding her farewell with “Adios Bonita!”

However, how I’d planned Magaluf was a lot different to how it actually turned out. Lyndsey was going to be there on our last night, so; clearly we were both thinking something would happen. But it didn’t.

“I only saw her for five minutes and I felt like she blanked me.” I told my good friend Charlotte. We’d known each other since birth, our mothers being childhood best friends.

“Really. That’s shit.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it. So, I’ve made a conscious decision. It’s time to get over Lyndsey…and get under Jaime.” It’s true, Jaime and I shared a history, and I do prefer the blondes.

A couple of nights after my return from Magaluf, a not-so-tanned Danny and a newly tanned me shared a few beers whilst watching a late night game of baseball. “Do you not think part of your appeal to Lyndsey was the gimmick of it being Danny and Sandy?”

“No…she was hot.” I replied, shrugging off Danny’s very interesting point. But I had a thought: could Danny actually be right? What did I actually know about Lyndsey? I knew that she owned a dildo. I knew that she couldn’t pass her driving test. But was this enough information for me to validate my attraction to her?

The next morning I got into my car and drove. I just drove…and carried on driving until I ended up at the beach. So, there I sat on a sand dune, watching this great, vast ocean, crashing onto the shore. It was there I thought. I thought about my whole relationship with Jaime. What we’d gone through. How I’d really never stopped thinking about her. How she was the most passionate kisser I’d ever kissed. And how she was honest and kind and genuine and open. And my mind was made up. It was time to stop messing around, trying to win both Lyndsey and Jaime, and I set my sights on the prize, Jaime.

I knew that it had been something that I’d been working towards for two years, even if it had been subconsciously. Even after she broke up with me, and I stopped talking to her, it didn’t mean that I had stopped thinking about her. All I wanted now was to kiss someone, be passionate with someone, walk hand-in-hand with someone…and just enjoy someone’s company. It was almost like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, a sort of moment of clarity, and in that moment my decision had been made.

As I drove home though, I was forced to ask the question: if we got into a relationship, how would it be shaped by the big changes about to take place in both of our lives? We were both moving away in September to different places, and I’d never been a fan of long-distance relationships. Plus, I’d heard rumblings she still had another guy in her life…Miguel. Since I’d chosen to get over Lyndsey, would I have to ask Jaime to choose too?

"...I Can Do Better!"

2007-08-02T23:50:00.001Z

The morning after the night before. “Wow. Am I still drunk?” I stumbled as I tried to get out of bed. “Take that as a yes.”

The next thing I know is I'm standing with Aspen while he questions me over my antics with Lyndsey the night before.

“So, you and Lyndsey eh? What’s going on there?”

“Um. Nothing? I'm so embarrassed. Seriously man, I just can’t believe I walked up to her and was like, ‘you fancy a date?’ It’s such dick head behaviour. I bet I see her today and it’s all awkward.”

“It’ll be alright. Just try and get her into bed and all awkwardness will be gone.”

“Yeah. If only it were that easy.”

Sure enough, who comes walking past but Lyndsey. “I can’t ignore her. But it’s gonna be awkward.” We locked eyes, each taking what seemed like that split second before we met to consider our plans of action on what to do.

“Just say ‘Hey’.” Aspen advised – he must have noticed the intensity in my eyes.

“Hey.” I said, with a slight smile, and all bleary-eyed.

“Hey.” She carried on walking, not that I expected her to stop. Her awkward smile said it all.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“Well…”

A few weeks later, after constant texting to her, we found ourselves on a double date, with my friend Simon, and her friend Ashleigh. The movies.

“The cliché first date or what?” I texted Danny…his reply? “LOL!” I had told him that I’d sworn off movie-dates, they were awkward, and didn’t allow conversation They also didn’t allow the ever so helpful SOS texts/phone calls, that can be made, say in a bar, or restaurant, or anywhere else where mobile telephone devices can actually be used. Not that it needed to be used. But there I was, in Row H, Seat 23, with Lyndsey, Simon and Ashleigh, watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3, regardless to the fact I hadn’t seen the first two.

There were the usual awkward glances at each other, occasional whisperings of “Erm…I really don’t understand what’s going on” to which she would reply “Yeah, me neither.” Followed by a giggle.

“All night I was thinking ‘should I reach for her hand? Should I use the ‘yawn-and-arm-stretch’ that worked oh-so-well in Grease?’ but yeah, it wasn’t that bad. It went alright. You could sense the awkwardness of it all though. I was just glad to get home. I'm sure Ashleigh and Simon were expecting me to land one on her or something, the way they kept leaving us alone, and then slyly watching us.” There was a pause as the waiter arrived. “Can I just get the Caesar salad with chicken please? Oh, and a coke? Thanks.”

“And I’ll have the same thanks. So, you think it’ll go much further?” Danny asked.

“Um, I don’t see why not. I mean, she’s still talking to me, so that’s a good sign. Plus we’re both going to be in Spain at the same time, so better opportunity than ever to see what happens.”

The next week was possibly the biggest date in the school’s social calendar – Prom. It would be the final time the Class of 2007 would all be together, with the exception of the miscreants who had decided Prom ‘wasn’t for them’, mainly because they’d been too lazy to meet the deadline, or, simply enough, they were happy enough to exclude themselves and had no real friends anyway.

So, after a drunken limo ride, reminiscent of Prom two years ago, I stumbled out of the limo drunk, to have several formal photos taken and personal photos with friends too. The champagne had hit me hard, as per usual. As the night went on, I seemed to get drunker, and rowdier. And as awards were presented, the more pissed-off I became, noticing I hadn’t won, or even been nominated.

“Didn’t they see my performance in Grease? And he, he who played Kenickie, a minor character, was nominated for the West End award? Do they know who I am?”

I don’t even think I knew who I was, let alone expecting anyone else to. But after my outburst, I began to sober with the onset of food. This is when the Carmientti twins began telling me about Jaime. She wanted to kiss me, apparently. So, Jaime and I danced, and danced, while she drunkenly told a newly sober me, “I really like you, Noah. I do. And you probably don’t like me. But I really like you. Like, really like you.”

“I know, I know,” I replied, grinning as I tried to support her. I had Hayley and Brooke in the background making actions to me, signing for me to kiss her. But the messages I got, it just didn’t feel right.

“She doesn’t want to kiss me!” I told Brooke after the dancing had finished. Haley and I returned to Prom, decided to get a photo with a dear friend of ours, who I affectionately call my ‘bro’, Lucas. After getting the photo, Haley and I left to catch a taxi into the city to carry on the celebrations. I opened the door and there was Jaime.

“I do want to kiss you Noah!” And she did. And I didn’t stop her.

“It was like something from the movies,” I explained to Kayla whilst dropping her off at home after dinner one night. “It was just, one of the moments you’ll never forget. I expected the background music, probably something by Mandy Moore, to start, and for the credits to start rolling.”

“Noah, that’s so romantic. But you know I'm ‘TEAM LYNDSEY’.” Kayla responded. She’d had a thing against Jaime ever since she broke up with me during that Christmas period two years ago. She saw how hurt I was, and I guess it’s to be expected that she’d protective of me, we have known each other for nearly fifteen years.

After dropping Kayla at her house, I sat for a second. I had a thought: were my feelings for Lyndsey and Jaime only spurred on because I was still conscience of Elle? Although I had been the one to end things with her, I still couldn’t help but think that she was playing a role in the future relationships in my life, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Was the fact she moved on so quickly spurring me to move on, and like I said before, show her that I, in fact, can do better than her. And hey, I guess two conquests after the end of our relationship trumps her one.

"Anything She Can Do..."

2007-05-05T12:05:00.001Z

Once upon a time, after a tough break-up, a young writer called Noah decided he needed a break. Lucky for him, he had family in Spain. So, he packed his cases and headed out there for three long weeks. And this was where the ‘fairytale’ getaway ended. It rained. It was cold. And his family just happened to live in the middle of nowhere – thank God for their broadband connection though, he thought to himself. So, after eighteen days, Noah packed his cases, headed home, ready to be start afresh with the ladies. And that he did.

A couple of nights after I got back from Spain, I was invited out into the city to celebrate my homecoming, by the Carmientti twins Hayley and Brooke. I gladly accepted, knowing that we’d be hitting the hottest clubs this city had to offer. Starting out in TigerTiger, I decided this was the perfect location to start my drunken night. So, whilst drinking cocktails and downing shots of Apple Schnapps in a private section of the club, we laughed, sung and danced on the chairs.

Jaime, a girl I had dated for about a month a year or so ago joined us about an hour later. Hayley had told me Jaime was interested in me again, and she wanted to “test drive” me to see if I was any good. Her words. Not mine. There was one complication - Ella and Jaime were friends. They weren’t as close as they once were, but still on speaking terms. This, as Jaime later said, embracing me, “complicated things”.

After TigerTiger, we stumbled to Lloyds Bar, 500 metres away. There, I was told I was “hideous” by a fat, old woman, to which I drunkenly replied, “Excuse me? Do you know who I am? I'm a model! I'm not hideous!” She apologised. After several drinks in Lloyds, we headed to Liquid. Jaime and I walked ahead, making small talk as she linked my arm.

“I mean, there clearly has always been chemistry there,” I told Kayla over lunch the next day. “Why should Ella even come into the equation?”

Knowing Hayley and Brooke Carmientti was definitely a plus in this city. They seemed to know everyone and had connections in all the hottest clubs. So, after getting into Liquid for free, we were awarded VIP status and headed up stairs to the VIP Lounge. It was dark, mysterious, smoky, exactly how you’d imagine a VIP Lounge to be. There was a glass wall that overlooked Liquid and there was Champagne on tap. After spending time in the VIP Lounge we headed back downstairs. There, we saw some friends and then hit the dancefloor. I saw this as my chance with Jaime. I grabbed her to dance and before I knew it, we were kissing.

“It got pretty passionate I’d say Kayla.” I told her.

“What do you mean?” She said, taking a sip from some fresh OJ.

“Well, there as hair pulling, lip play…it was like foreplay of the face.”

“Wow. Did she awake the beast?” She replied, giggling.

“I think she might have done. You know, for all we dated, that was our first kiss,” I paused, smiled, and carried on, “and it was good! It was like something from the movies.”

After kissing for what felt like forever, in a good way, we headed to the bar. More alcohol followed, as did more kissing.

“Promise me this won’t be awkward when we’re not drunk.” She pleaded with me.

“I promise. I honestly don’t think it will.” It was a lie. I just wanted to carry on kissing her. It worked. And we carried on kissing.

“Then Hayley and Brooke bundled us into a taxi, and that was that. It kind of was a bit awkward in the taxi I mean, we were meant to have left 15 minutes before we actually left but they were just waiting for us to be done kissing. That was awkward.” I said as we settled the cheque for our breakfast.

Hiding my hangover from the morning world I placed my Aviators I’d purchased in New York over my eyes and we walked out of the café.

A couple of days later I was invited to another party. This time, it was a party masquerading as a nineteenth birthday party, to make sure no one had a problem with ID. After being rejected from an opportunity in California I’d auditioned for, I was feeling pretty down, so, I dressed up and aimed to please. I got far too drunk far too soon. I danced, or grinded, with an array of women and even forgot one girl’s name. Not my finest moment.

After, in the taxi que, I spotted a girl called Lyndsey. She’d played Sandy to my Danny when I had been in Grease a while back. There’d always been that attraction and chemistry there, especially with our kissing in the ‘drive-in scene’, but we’d never let it develop since I was with Ella. Now, with no Ella in sight, I was making sure I’d made up for lost time. The girl who’d played Marty in the production pointed her out to me, and told me that we’d make a “cute couple”.

“You think?” I slurred.

“Yeah, definitely.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me over to her. “Lyndsey, Noah has something to ask you.”

“I do?…Yeah, I think that maybe we should, you know, go on a date.” I said, as if it were a question. It was the first thing that came into my head.

“Yeah, we should.” There was an awkward silence. “I was sorry to hear about you and Ella.”

“Yeah, something’s just don’t work. Fuck it.” And with Dutch courage, well, a lot of Dutch courage, I kissed her. She didn’t pull away. Wow. Look at me go. I thought to myself. She said she had to go, and with that she climbed into the taxi.

I had a thought: was I acting out, and, like Britney Spears did, take my newfound single status too far? Was it a psychological repercussion from breaking up with her, and then finding out she had a new boyfriend a week later? Maybe I was trying to keep up with her, and show her that no one messes with Noah J. Austin. Anything she can do, I can do better…right?

"Let The Rain Fall Down..."

2007-04-13T18:30:00.001Z

Tuesday. 11pm. "Well what I'm saying is maybe I don't know how I feel anymore."

"Well what do you mean...you don't want to be with me?" Ella replied.

"Like I said, what I'm saying is that I don't know how I feel." There was a long pause. "Maybe it just isn't the right time for us..."

"So what are you saying, Noah?"

"Can you not hear me?"

"Yes, but you're confusing me, and scaring me...do you not want to be with me anymore?"

"That's the thing, I don't know..."

"So what do you want to do?" A sob could was audible over the line. And with that sob, my mind was changed. How could I be so heartless?

"Well lets just keep going and see how things go, because now you know how I feel." Click. I held my head in my hands. How could I lie to her? It was so easy...and I'd done it so many times before, but it seemed this time it was different...like this time it was more significant. At that time I could only ask myself: if something's not right, why carry on?

Friday. I'm in Birmingham. Ella is at home. I say at home, she'd gone out with friends. I'd been receiving text messages all Thursday and Friday telling me about her antics with other guys. Usually I'm not the jealous type, but this stuff always seems to happen when I'm away. I ring her.

"Ella, I think we need to talk."

"What about babe?"

"Us."

"Oh.

"Yeah."

"Well, what is it?"

"Just I've been hearing so much stuff from people and I don't know whether I trust you anymore."

"You don't trust me?" I could tell she was already slightly inebriated. "Well thats just great Noah. You've ruined my night out now."

"I'm sorry if I have, but I couldn't help BUT ruin your night out, I had to say it. I couldn't keep it in while people keep telling me all of these things about you."

"Who are these people?"

"My friends, who I trust. And I'm not going to bring them into it. All you need to know if that I don't trust you anymore."

I could hear crying. And it felt awful. But after the three glasses of red wine I'd had, I didn't care. I needed to be honest, not just to her, but to myself also. I couldn't carry on living with this facade of a relationship.

I told her we needed to talk, and agreed to meet for coffee the following day.

After parting ways over two grande Breakfast Tea's, it was over. The four month relationship was over. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from my mind. I felt a genuine happiness that I hadn't felt since the start of our relationship. It was over.

"The Toxic Relationships"

2007-02-06T20:58:00.001Z

Toxic relationships: the relationships that aren’t good for you but you just can’t let go of. They’re the relationships that destroy friendships, relationships with families and relationships with your inner self.

Having fallen behind with my writing and with my work, I’d decided to spend this particular Friday night at home, with a cup of tea (how English of me) and crumpets (ok, I lied, I meant to write toast), but that was until I’d remembered that I’d promised Skye I’d spend the night out with her, Aidan and Madeline. “A Friday night, and I'm playing third wheel to two other couples.” I thought to myself as Aidan drove to Adam’s house as we picked up Madeline and Adam. “Great.”

After seeing the movie ‘Notes on a Scandal’, which was amazing, if a little creepy, and having my card declined by cinema staff claiming they don’t accept the brand which caused major embarrassment and a whole waste of time, we drove our way to one of our usual hangouts when we’re all together: Wetherspoons.

Adam and I headed to the ATM while Madeline and Skye set up shop in Wetherspoons and Aidan drove home, leaving his car there and returning to us from there. However, Madeline was ID-ed, and although being of legal age, was declined entry into the bar.

“Bastards!” Madeline repeated, over and over again. “Three weeks in a fucking row! Bastards! I’ve been coming here for four fucking years! I'm so angry.”

It was understandable. They’d ask her age when she was actually legal but when she was underage they’d happily serve her alcohol.

“It’s alright.” Skye and I tried to comfort her, while Adam used other words.

We decided to go to Skye’s house with some wine and a Chinese and watch some DVDs. Aidan drove back down and took us to the Chinese after alcohol shopping and while we were waiting for a Chicken Chow Mein, a discussion over schooling took place and Madeline stormed out from the car. Several minutes later Adam followed her. When Aidan arrived Skye and I explained the situation. We waited ten minutes in the car, hoping they’d return. And following numerous unanswered phone calls and un-replied text messages, we made the decision to head to Skye’s house. In the car towards Skye’s house, I had a thought: had our friendship become toxic? I got worried, Madeline was one of those true friends who you could go weeks without seeing, but when getting together again it was like there had been no time between your last meetings.

After watching ‘Dirty Sanchez: the Movie’ which may quite possibly the sickest film I’ve ever seen, Aidan decided to walk me home, which I suspected was a guise to get him out of Skye’s house, which had been filled with tension since we first got there.

On the walk home, we drank bottles of pre-mixed alcohol and he talked about his plans for a new car. It wasn’t long before our conversation turned to Skye.

“I want her to go out. Sometimes I just can’t be bothered, but I know she wants to, so I say to her that she should go out, but she just doesn’t want to without me.”

I already knew this, but I guess it was just hearing him say it, and it being repeated, that enforced the seriousness of the situation to me.

“Sometimes I just want to stay in play on the Xbox, watch a film, have a wank, whatever, I'm easily pleased you know. But she just won’t go out without me. And it’s because she think I'm going to go with other girls,” he paused. “I just don't want to be the reason she doesn't go out and have a good time.”

“I guess that’s what happens when you spend literally every waking moment with each other.”

“Yeah. Because like we work together, go to college together, and every other moment we’re with each other.”

It was at this point I became so grateful for what I had with Ella. We didn’t spend every waking moment with each other, yet somehow, I figured that our lives just fit.

He went on to tell me that at one point in the past they’d come close to splitting up because of this. I knew that if they had, it would have killed Skye, literally. He was her heart and soul, and I couldn’t help but feel torn between the two feelings: 1) being happy that Skye was so in love and 2) being slightly worried that she won’t let him out of her sight.

Had Skye and Aidan’s relationship become toxic? Or had it always been that way? I’d known for quite sometime that their relationship hadn’t been healthy. She never seemed to want to do anything alone anymore, and always seemed to need him by her side. Had she become dependant on him?

I left Aidan with a sense of guilt. I felt like I was leaving him to deal with his toxic relationship, but then I realised I really had nothing to do with it. I was just relieved to know that my relationship wasn’t like theirs. At that point I thought: would I really be able to deal with it if it were?

“I have enough trouble sharing my food never mind my personal space,” I told Danny over coffee the next day. “Maybe by keeping myself to myself a lot, and not letting Ella in as much as I should, I'm kind of, sort of, trying to protect myself, and my relationship, from becoming toxic.” Well, at least it made sense to me.

"I Belong To Me"

2007-02-05T22:04:00.001Z

Some have claimed, from apparent experience, that relationships can only work if you’re willing to share everything in your life.

A couple of nights ago Ella and I celebrated being together for two whole months by going out for an Italian. In the two months we’ve been together, I think it’s fair to say there have been some ups and downs, mostly downs. But, as I always say “what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

“Just think, two months ago today we were at Rachel’s party hooking up.” I said, looking at her across our table.

“Yeah, just think.” She replied, smirking and semi-giggling.

We ordered our food, me getting a Spaghetti Bolognese (original, I know!) and her a burger. It wasn’t long before conversation turned to the people around us.

“Do you they are?” She said to me, indicating to two men behind me.

“Do I think they’re what?”

“You know…”

“Um. I don’t know. Maybe?”

“I think they are. My mum and I do this all of the time when we’re out. Do you not?”

“Not really.”

I twirled more spaghetti onto my fork and carried on eating. I thought to myself, watching her eat her burger: is she like a small child seeing a wild animal for the first time? Was she mesmerised by the fact she rarely comes into contact with homosexuals? “I still don’t see the big deal she has with it,” I said to Kayla through a text message.

“When you see a black person, you don’t question whether their African or Caribbean do you?” I later told Danny. “Apart from that small thing, it was a surprisingly pleasant meal. It was calm, we talked, and I just felt like we reconnected – is that a little bit romantic of me to say?”

Several nights later, I met up with Kayla, Madeline, Ella, her friend Mary, Aspen and Josh and we hit up Studio, a club just outside of the city. It was a good night in which we all got drunk, Madeline and I smoked and drunk more. And after several hours of partying hard, Madeline, Kayla and I decided to hit it up somewhere else. Kayla wanted to meet a guy she had been seeing and I was getting sick of the whole Studio atmosphere.

“Ella I have to go now. I'm sharing a taxi with Madeline and Kayla and they want to go now, so I'm off too.”

“Noooooo! You can’t just leave me!”

“Why? You’re with Mary…”

“Yeah, but she’s at the toilet,” she interrupted me.

“And she’ll be coming back. Plus, Aspen and Josh are here, and I know for a fact they’ll look after you two.”

“Yeah, but, you can’t just leave me by myself.” She repeated to me.

“Like I said, Mary’s still here. Lets find her then.”

I waited outside the ladies’ toilets for what seemed like ten minutes when Ella and Mary came strolling out. Ella seemed angry but still kissed me goodbye and I ran out to meet Madeline and Kayla who’d been waiting for me in the cold, dark, wet, night. ‘Real, unselfish, friends’, I thought to myself.

“I'm sorry. I had to sort something.” I shouted to them, feeling slightly deaf from the overly loud music, as we ran towards the taxi rank.

As we climbed into the taxi, the discussion of my sex life with Ella arose.

“Tell me you haven’t done anything with her Noah,” Madeline demanded.

“No, we haven’t. I just don’t know where she stands.”

“Well, just wait. Because believe me, I know that when you do something, and it’s not right, it hurts you so much after.”

I looked at Kayla, hoping for her to tell me something different, “It’s true Noah.”

“Yeah, I know it’s true. But what if it does feel right?” I questioned.

“Still, wait.” Madeline said.

“But the thing is, she’ll get me so worked up and into it, and then just be like ‘Oh, I need a drink.’ And I buy her a drink.”

“It’s different for girls though.”

“How? It’s sex. Same for everyone.”

“No, it is different for girls. More intense and more meaningful.”

It was a valid point. I had a thought: was I meant to wait until she signalled that it would be ok for us to sleep together?
The next morning, I phoned Kayla.

“Good night last night wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, apart from when you guys were left outside in the cold while I was held captive by Ella,” I said, laughing.

“You know, I thought that’s why it took you so long. I just didn’t want to say anything,” Kayla confessed.

“I mean did she think I was a dog or something and if she lets me go I might not come back?”

“I know what you mean,” she said, slightly giggling.

It was an interesting thought, but did Ella really think I belonged to her, and she belonged to me? Was I ready to share my life entirely with someone in order to make this relationship work? I wasn’t sure, but for the minute, I knew one thing, that I belonged to me.

"Heads Up!"

2007-01-26T23:04:00.001Z

In life, and in a city like mine, it can be argued that you never want to be the one to end up with shit on your face, or in Kayla’s case, cum.

Kayla had met a nice, charming guy who she instantly fell for. And while giving him a blowjob after several cosy cocktails at his family home, without warning he came on her face. In her drunken state, she felt something warm on her face, and touching it she came to realise what it was.

“You could have given me some warning!” She shouted, with him getting less charming by the minute.

“Oh, um, sorry,” was his reply.

“Oh, um, sorry?” she reiterated to me while standing at the bar on a recent night out into the city. “Is that all he could say, really? I mean come on, I was the one with cum on my face!”

“Did he not return the favour?” I asked her, stealing a sip from her cocktail, but not going unnoticed.

“What, as some sort of an apology?” Danny asked.

“No! Good common courtesy.” I replied.

“Either way, no,” and after a long, semi-awkward pause, “No pleasurable returns,” she said smirking.

“Are you kidding? You only give head to get head Kayla. Or even give head to get ahead, but if you’re not getting anything from it, what purpose does it derive?” I said this from personal experience.

I had been to a birthday party that wasn’t exactly a party, and, after consuming many a shots o’ vodka and many a shots o’ everything else, a private after party was held in Jason Matthew’s bedroom. Amie was someone who’d I’d met at a weeklong stay away conference and with whom I’d immediately clicked with. “Hey, if she says vagina humorously, it’s a sign.”

Jason and I had invited her and her friend to the party in hopes of livening the situation up, like she did with the conference, and that she certainly did, well the after party anyway. Jason, Amie, Amie’s friend and I had ended up back at Jason’s house. He and Amie’s friend lay on his bed ‘talking’ while behind a curtain that led to his window Amie say upon the window sill with me standing in between her legs. Things seemed to get hot and heavy quick and behind this curtain I’d gone down on her, expecting the favour to be returned. However, all I got was an extended make-out session whilst she stroked my back. “Erotic much? I’d have preferred the head,” I told Danny the next day over brunch.

The day after my night out with Danny and Kayla, Aspen and his good friend Jake invited me to the cinema in hopes of watching ‘Rocky Balboa’. We settled on a Chinese before the movie started and over ‘Chicken Chow Mien’ and ‘Sweet and Sour Pork’ the conversation turned to my relationship with Ella, and how ‘ahead’ I’d gotten with her.

“So have you done anything with Ella yet?” Both Aspen and Jake enquired.

“No, not yet.” I replied, modestly and honestly. “That’s not to say I haven’t thought about it though.”

“Seriously?” Jake said.

“Yeah, seriously. I just don’t know how to approach things with her.”

“Well, have you two not had ‘the talk’ yet?” Aspen asked. ‘The talk’ he referred to was ‘the talk’ that took place, quite early on in a young couple’s relationship that revolved around sex, past experiences, opinions etc. In this ‘talk’, the couple would establish in their minds the other partner’s opinions and at least get a guideline of when to start things sexually.

“No we haven’t. I just find it hard to approach her about it, because you know, she’s younger. And obviously not knowing how she feels about it in relation to her religion is also pretty hard. She might want to wait until marriage.” The use of the word hard wasn’t meant to be a pun, but I guess it was quite funny I chose that word to use.

“Oh, I take it she’s really big into her religion then?” Jake figured, while shovelling a piece of beef into his mouth.

“Yeah. Church on Sunday, the lot.” I confirmed.

“Well, just see how it goes, and maybe you’ll feel a lot more confident and comfortable in talking about it with her as your relationship grows.” Wow, look at Aspen going philosophical, I thought to myself.

I started eating my fried rice when conversation turned to one of Aspen’s exes. Jake said something about her tasting “nasty” to which Aspen through him a nasty look.

“What do you mean by that?” He said as I choked on my fried rice.

“Well…that you kissed her and all that” Jake said, jokingly.

“No you didn’t.” Aspen replied.

“What did you think I meant,” he said smirking.

“Well…you know…”

“What?” Jake said, wanting him to say it.

“That you licker her out…” I came out with.

“What?!” Aspen said, almost spitting out his coke.

“You know…ate her pussy.” I said in a nonchalant manner. The lady on the table behind looked at me, and if looks could kill, I'm pretty sure I would be dead. “What? It’s the 21st century?” trying to justify my language.

“Well, no I didn’t. Can we just change the subject?” He seemed pretty disturbed by it all. Jake and I glanced each other, grinning.

“So how’s Kayla anyway?” Aspen said, trying to change the subject.

“She’s good. She told me how you said I was going out with you too on Saturday.” I replied.

“Well, I had to get her out somehow.” He said, smiling.

Maybe he really did like her. “You sly dog you.” I said.

After Rocky Balboa’s untriumphant, but still somehow triumphant, return to the world of boxing, I spent the Metro journey home thinking about sex and my relationship with Ella. I realised that sex wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, and it was basically just a factor, such as where to go to eat out on Valentine’s Day, or which movie to see on a date…to have sex or not to have sex. This may be true, but I then figured that it’s always good to get a head’s up on the situation, maybe even to get head before the situation.

"The Relapse"

2007-01-24T11:12:00.001Z

It has been said that love is like a drug, and with drugs, it’s ever so easy to relapse, especially in an environment that encourages alcohol-fuelled behaviour.

It was another Saturday night, and there was another 18th party I had to show my face at. The invite had said “Noah + Guest” so it was inevitable that Ella would be coming (and I was hoping in more ways than one, much to my disappointment we got nowhere). Hayley and Brooke had invited Kayla as their guest so; 15 minutes before the party started we made our way to the Carmientti household, collecting Ella along the way.

After downing two mini sized bottles of Jack Daniels, and Kayla downing that of vodka, we climbed into the taxi and headed to the party.

Arriving at the party, we noticed a distinct lack of something…people. After my first vodka and coke the place seemed to get busier and I made the friendly hellos and the polite obligatory “I haven’t seen you since you dropped out of college last year, how are you?” I was also introduced to several new people, those people I’d never met, and after meeting them, I'm glad I hadn’t.

Hayley grabbed me, “Noah, this is Katie, Katie this is Noah.” It was the standard and civil introductions that could have been taken from the movies.

“Hi.” I said, smiling.

She looked at me and walked off.

“Because that’s not rude!” I shouted after her, downing the rest of my second, or third, alcoholic beverage. I think by that point at the party I’d switched to double vodka and cokes.

As my alcohol intake increased, so did my affection towards Ella. I had this new wave of feelings for her like from when our relationship first began. But this time it was different. Every other time I’d been drunk with her, she kind of irritated me, just like the way she sometimes does when we’re sober. So, we did the usual drunk person behaviour of making out in front of everyone, grinding against each other on the dance floor and, no matter how many times I said to her “I don’t want to be one of those couples who take pictures of themselves kissing,” that is exactly what we did.

The next morning Kayla and I heading into the city to walk, and talk, and walk, and talk some more, while mostly trying to avoid working.

“Did I tell you that last night Ella had started with the whole ‘Noah, you know my feelings on gays, well…’ thing? Well she said. To which I replied, ‘Ella, you know that two of my close friends are gay?’ She seemed stunned, and apologetic.”

“What else would she be? Like Hermione had told you, what she doesn’t realise she’s doing is, by sort of indirectly offending Ashley and Adam, she is offending you.”

“I suppose so.” I wasn’t so sure as I took a bite from my toasted chorizo and cheese sandwich. I had subconsciously decided to try, operative word being try, to forget about Ella’s differences and try to focuses on what positives there were, even if my previous decision was to ultimately end things with her.

After the party the night before, I realised that I had what a lot of other people wanted, but I just seemed so dissatisfied with what I had. It was a relationship where I was cared so much about that she didn’t want to let me go.

I had a thought: was I suffering from what was known as a relapse? Had the feelings I first had for Ella suddenly returned with the injection of alcohol, and even afterwards once the alcohol had warn off?

While I was contemplating my future with Ella, Kayla was telling me about the one night stand she’d had. She’d met him in a bar and his name was Kyle. He was a university student and after a hard night’s partying at several bars with him, she was invited back to his for a coffee, or two. Next thing she knew she was laying on his bed, wondering what the hell she’d just done.

“How was it?” I asked her.

“Well, a lot of alcohol had been consumed, so, not too amazing.” She replied, with a look in her eye.

“So you didn’t cum?”

“No.” She said, shaking her in while doing so.

“Oh Kayla.”

“What? What?”

“What’s sex without cumming? It’s like decaf coffee, coffee without the caffeine, the whole reason for coffee’s modern day existence!”

“I guess so.”

“So are you seeing him again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe. Oh check you out you non-cumming repeat offender.”

While I had definitely relapsed, I wondered whether Kayla would too with Kyle, even if her rewards weren’t fruitful, to say the least. Then I realised, maybe love wasn’t a drug after all because if it were, relapsing wouldn’t feel so good. So, I asked myself: what was so bad about relapsing with love anyway?

"Magnets"

2007-01-21T21:24:00.001Z

Some cultures have said that opposites attract. Some physicians said this too, and they were right, with the magnets anyway. But, can a relationship stand the true test of time if these two opposites don’t seem to attract?

Many times Ella and I have gotten into minor debates slash arguments over our differences in opinions. Whilst sitting in the corner of the basement in Starbucks, my good friend Ashley phoned me. After I hung up, I went on to tell Ella all about Ashley, one of the people I'm closest too. How we would check out girls together wherever we went, and how we’d only met in March of 2006 and remained close ever since.

“So she’s a lesbian?”

“Yup.” I took a sip from my hot chocolate, waiting for her reaction.

“I just don’t get how people can do that. Like, you know, I don’t have a problem with it, but I don’t understand. It’s just not right. Women weren’t meant to have sex with women.”

“Are you really saying that?”

“Yeah. I just don’t get it.”

I ended the conversation there and asked her about something else. As we left we saw a homeless lady.

“I always feel bad when I see her.” I’d seen her more than once.

“Well, it’s her fault to be fair.”

“Wait. What?”

“She didn’t have to be homeless.”

“Yeah, but, Ella, we don’t know what circumstances under which she became homeless. It’s not as if one day she got sick of her house and thought the street would be better.”

“Well, I'm just saying she could have done something to not be homeless.”

Later at the newly opened mixed-genre music club Confusion, I had a moment of clarity. I told Kayla that this was “the perfect example of her immitude.”

“You’re right. Like, why would she just judge people automatically?”

“Because she’s young that’s why.” It really was that simple.

“I bet she hasn’t even met anyone gay and that’s why maybe she doesn’t have an unbiased opinion on it.”

“You’re probably not wrong,” I said, sinking another vodka and coke.

A couple of nights later, after I’d decided to throw myself into my work, I received an instant message from Ella. My plan of studying, studying, studying was out the window.

“Noah, you know how I feel about gays, well, I was at the train station and these butch lesbians walked past, like seriously, really butch and manly. And well, they were like holding hands and kissing and stuff. I thought I was going to be sick in my mouth and had to turn away! Well, anyway, I'm sure they were doing it more just to gross me out!”

“Hi by the way.” I replied. “They did it just to gross you out, I'm sure that’s the reason why. Who cares, as long as they’re happy?”

“Yeah, if they’re happy, but you know…” She continued.

“Well, it’s not as if we’re exactly sin free ourselves.” Then I remembered the line from the musical Rent that seemed to define this whole situation: ‘Let he among us without sin be the first to condemn.’ And it was true. How can she condemn anyone when she is sinning herself by being prejudiced against someone and condemning them for their choices? It’s like one, big, vicious circle.

I had a thought: were Ella and I slowing becoming the same poles on different magnets, rather than different poles on the same magnet, that no longer attract? It was certainly an interesting thought.

The next day I sat talking to Hayley and Brooke Carmientti, over a Psychology textbook I was meant to be studying with.

I told them about all of the differences and how we are complete opposites in everything: politics, homophobia, attitudes, fashion sense, music sense.

“Well there has to be something,” the ever-positive Hayley said. “You both like each others, that’s something.”

“We do?” I said with a raised eyebrow and sarcastic tone, followed by the cheeky grin that is almost my trademark.

“There’s got to be other stuff Noah,” Brooke added.

“I really don’t think there is.”

Was this it? Had this magnet broken? Were the people saying “opposites attract” only saying it to give others hope that there is someone out there for them? Maybe they said it to reassure themselves that there was someone out there for them too. Then I had a thought: love always trumps physics.

“Stock, Broke & Two Girls with the Immitude”

2007-01-14T16:42:00.001Z

Aspen Leary had become a close friend in recent months. We’d spent a lot of time drinking alcohol and talking about girls. His girlfriend and my girlfriend were in the same year group and we’d been in the same Psychology class last year.

His girlfriend, who had once been friends with Ella before Aspen’s girlfriend’s miraculous transformation from pretty girl to alternative girl, had just dumped him.

“You’re kidding me? She dumped you?” I asked him, on a recent trip to the city whilst in town looking at DVDs.

“Yeah she did. It was over the phone too, whilst she was in a pub, with God knows who, drinking God knows what.”

“No way. Is she serious? Well, she sure is mature.”

“I know. It’s like I thought I meant something to her, but obviously not. I mean, she didn’t even give me any reasons. She just did it.” He looked bothered by it.

“Well, would you have still thought that if she’d done it face to face, with reasons?” I asked him, intrigued.

“Yeah, probably. But it was just, over the phone while in a pub? It’s pretty immature, and really hurtful.”

“Oh definitely dude, I understand.”

This was the perfect example of what I called ‘the immitude’, I thought to myself. Immitude was the attitude immature girls have to certain things. Relationships, politics, sexuality, all of those sorts of hot topics etc.

“They certainly do know how to get what they want,” Aspen told me in a pub after I’d spent money on DVDs that I clearly didn’t need.

“They sure do. I mean, I spend so much money on Ella and it’s like, I'm on the verge of not having any.”

“Well Noah, it’s the way we were brought up. We are gentleman, you see.” He took a gulp from his pint of cider, and laughed.

“Gentleman my arse. More like beggars by the end of it.” I slammed down my pint glass.

“Wow, taking this a bit seriously aren’t you?” I hadn’t meant to slam it down, it just happened.

“Well it’s just I feel like I'm always paying for Ella, for everything: Cinema tickets, snacks, drinks, parties, meals. I just feel like it’s getting too much.”

“It’s true, you shouldn’t be paying for all of that.”

“Has it got to the point where we have to have money to be in a relationship?”

“What? Like we pay relationships like we pay bills?” Aspen had hit the mark.

“My point exactly. Plus, I don’t even have a job. She does! Aren’t we meant to be living in an equal society in which females are equal to males? What ever happened to the gentlewoman?”

“Well, maybe it’s not just because you’re the guy, maybe it’s because you’re older too.” He made a good point. Was it because I was older, and was the ‘gentleman’ that I was expected to pay for everything.

That night, I had a thought: could I really afford to be in a relationship that I couldn’t pay for, and which I couldn’t really see lasting any lengthy amount of time, what with my move to either California or London looming?

So, I made a conscious decision to see Ella more. I wanted to invest my time in her more, it was almost as if I was investing in the stock market. Had Ella’s stock just gone up?

“So Noah, this party next Friday night, are you finally going to be my drinks then?”

“What?” Shocked. To. The. Core.

“Well, are you?”

“Ella. I always do! How can you say that?”

“I was joking. Calm down.” She didn’t sound like she was joking. Maybe she doesn’t realise I'm pretty much broke, and with impending university fees coming up, I shouldn’t be spending my money on buying drinks for her she can easily afford herself. Of course, it would be nice if I could do that, but, at this time in my life, when I have no money, “I pretty much reject the idea of the ‘gentlemen’.”

Once I was home, I logged online to my bank. Had Ella’s stock just gone down? Was it time to accept that maybe I should just cut loose and accept my losses? I sipped my water. Was this stock retrievable?

“I mean sometimes, she makes me feel special.” I told Aspen in the library while ‘studying’ for an upcoming exam.

“Like how?” He inquired. “How are things in the bedroom”?

“What things? And what bedroom? Seriously, like, I think she wants to. On New Years Eve she was kissing my neck and getting me,” I looked around, the librarian walked past our table, “Up…but then she’d get another drink and just hang off me, and that’s pretty much a turn off, also her parents were in the next room, and that’s just chance taking, especially when it isn’t even her house either.”

“Ah I see.”

Would improving things in the bedroom, and taking ‘it’ to the next step solve my financial problem? Would I invest more if she would? For now though…her stock was hanging in the balance.

"Validating a Relationship."

2007-01-07T00:46:00.001Z

Thursday night at the Italian restaurant Fuime on the riverside, Skye, Madeline and I met up for a “triple date” as Madeline would later refer to it at the table. Skye had come up with the idea of us all getting together and going for a meal. It started out with the idea that Skye, Madeline, Jason and I would reacquaint our selves with each other over an Italian dish and an alcohol beverage, but, as they do, plans changed. It was finalised with a table booked for six: me, Aidan, Skye, Madeline, and Adam…and Ella. It was the first time Ella was going to meet my closest friends and their partners.

“So I'm going out for a meal tonight with Skye, Madeline and their boyfriends, and I want to know if you want to come.” I asked her.

We’d spent the morning fish hunting. I’d bought her a novelty fish tank for Christmas, as well as going for the safe option of perfume (Dolce and Gabbana’s THE ONE) after being asked on many occasions what I would be buying her, to which I had no idea. In return she’d bought me a mug from Starbucks and a grey cardigan, which were apparently in fashion this season.

When she first asked me to go fish hunting, it had been three days since New Years Eve. We hadn’t spoken. I’d spent that time sleeping, eating, and attempting essays, where she had spent it…well, I'm not exactly sure how she’d spent it.

“So Noah, what are you doing tomorrow? You want to go fish hunting?”

I had a thought: Was this a new form of committing in a relationship? Hunting for a pet fish? Would we be fighting for custody of this fish if our relationship ever failed?

“Um..sure. How about I be at yours for 10.30, just I have a driving lesson in the afternoon.”

10.30 that morning I stepped off the bus, and realised I had only ever been to Ella’s house drunk, and in my friend Aspen’s car, in the dark. I had no idea where I was going. After numerous failed phone call attempts and text messages, I rang her, on what I decided would be the last time.

“Hello…?” She said, sheepishly.

“Ella! It’s Noah! You’ve been asleep haven’t you?”

“Oh my God! I'm so sorry. Oh my God. What time is it?” She replied, surprised to know I’d caught her out.

“10.55 in the morning! You do know I need to be home by 12.30 because of my driving lesson. And I don’t even know where you’re house is!” I was so angry with her, again.

After directions, which I managed to follow and find her house, we set of for a twenty-minute walk to find a fish.

“How about this one?” I asked her. “It’s small, it’ll fit in the tank. Perfect.”

“I don’t know. You choose.” She responded.

“Well, if it’s like that. I like the classic gold look. They’re pretty cheap too. I think you should get two.”

“No Noah!” She said, with a broad smile and giggling. “They won’t both fit.”

“Sure they will. Take a chance. Live a little. So they’re a little cramped. Just like two people sharing a bedroom.”

By the time I’d committed to our relationship by choosing the fish, I’d forgotten New Years Eve and all the trouble that morning. It was like she had this sort of effect on me in which she went back in time and erased our past problems.

“So what do you say? To this meal?” I continued after initially asking her.

“Yeah sure. Only if you really want me to come mind.” She didn’t sound sure.

“No, of course I want you to come. Skye and Madeline can’t wait to meet you.” I lied. Again. Sure Skye was. Madeline, I wasn’t so sure. She’d said on the previous Friday that she was jealous, but not “because I like you like that, but just because you have a girlfriend.” Yes, she was drunk at the time.

That evening I rang Skye and informed her of the news that Ella would be joining us.

“Oh great, can’t wait to meet her. We’ll come and pick you up. Are you just meeting her?” This was followed by talk of dress code for the evening and some slight bitching about Jason.

The meal went without any hitches. Except talk of sex, in which I think Ella felt slightly uncomfortable, and of course she would when Madeline asked me what anal was like, I had to respond to let her know she was joking.

When leaving, after Skye and Aidan left in their car, Ella and Madeline ran to the toilet together. I could only wonder what they were talking about.

“Maybe they’re touching each other,” Adam said, breaking our silence as we sat in his car.

“We can only hope,” I responded with a smirk. “So, nice car.” Trying not to make any awkward situation in which we would both sit in silence hoping that they’d both come from the toilet as quickly as possible, I made ‘masculine talk’ which involved talk about sport, women and cars. This time, it was only cars.

“Thanks.” An awkward situation was avoided by the return of Ella and Madeline.
We took Ella home, making small talk as you typically do on first dates, except in this situation is was a first “triple date”, with me kissing her as she got out of the car.

“Aren’t you going to kiss her goodnight?” Madeline asked.

“I already have Madeline.” Did she think that I was a naïve boyfriend who didn’t know the correct relationship etiquette?

As soon as she slammed the door shut, and we drove out of her street, I started with all of the regular post-meeting questions: “So, what do you think?” “Do you like her?” “Isn’t she beautiful?” “Do you honestly like her?”

Madeline answered with “Yeah, I like her. She’s nice. A bit tall though. It intimidates me.” I laughed.

“Do you know what I mean when I say she’s a little bit young?” It was like I was trying to find reasons for them not to like her.

“Yeah, but I mean she is younger than you so that is to be expected.”

“I guess so. But she’s just a bit clingy. It’s a little overbearing.”

I told them the story of my New Years Eve hell, which I’d forever think of as the night I lost my head over a girl.

“Noah, that sometimes happens with girls though, they can’t help it.” Surprisingly this didn’t come from Adam, but Madeline.

“Yeah, it’s true. It does happen with girls.” Adam chipped in. I guess it was good to get advice, that wasn’t necessarily advice, but more of an approval that this was normal.

“But, I think the best thing about a relationship is being able to walk away from it, and there’s been more than one occasion where she hasn’t been able to do that.”

“I see what you mean,” Madeline responded.

Was I right? Was walking away the best thing about a relationship? Isn’t it that that keeps it fresh? And isn’t it the being able to return that makes it better when you seem them after a period of not being able to? Or did I have it all wrong? Was it the more time you spent together, the more together you were as a couple, and the more validated your relationship was? Was that what it was all about? The validation? I could only wonder as I climbed from Adam’s car and walked down my driveway. What was the best thing about us?

"Winter Wonderland?"

2007-01-02T01:16:00.002Z

Christmas. "Jesus is the reason for this season," Ella told me. But Christmas for me, not being Christian, was just a time to over-indulge in all things nice and unhealthy, so that was chocolate and alcohol, and spend time with my family, something that seldom happened during the year. I also consciously decided that this year I'd spend some of it with Ella too, choosing to go to a house party of a friend of hers to celebrate the incoming of 2007.

“What are you doing for New Year’s Eve Noah?” She asked me on a bus trip into the city.

“Um, I'm not exactly sure yet. I might be going to Scotland with my Nana though.” I replied.

“Ohh…OK.”

“Why?”

“Just Rachel’s having a party and I want you to come.”

“Oh. Well. I’ll see I guess.”

She smiled. I’ve come to learn that woman always seem to have the upper hand when it comes to relationships, but that’s another story for another time.

Plans were made and broken up until New Year’s Eve, and Christmas seemed like a blur of wrapping paper, turkey, alcohol and chocolate. I eventually decided against having my own party, for fear of it being crap, and going out into town for the celebrations, so I only had one choice left: going to Rachel’s.

Kiri, Samantha and I arrived with the fashionista twins of our circle, who we were quite close to: Hayley and Brooke Carmientti. They were miniature Paris and Nicky Hiltons and loved all things fashionable. Kiri and Samantha had also arrived with a bottle of vodka each, to mark the occasion.

“I’ve been trying to find any excuse to not come, but I just couldn’t. It’s all because I'm not the ‘meet the parents’ type of guy. They make me uncomfortable!” I told Danny through instant messenger.

“Don’t be stupid. Rather soon than later right? Plus, they’ll be drunk. It’s a celebration. They’ll want to celebrate.”

“True.”

I had a thought: could it be that they were just as nervous to meet me? Do they want the approval that their daughter is with the ‘right guy’? Could I be ‘Mr Right’?

“Noah, have you ever thought you over-analyse?” Danny later IM-ed me.

“Just a bit…”

The party was full when we’d arrived and Ella seemed to already be drunk, giggling and laughing with her brother’s girlfriend Gauri Spoota. Gauri was one of the top six women tennis players in Britain, and placed at around 200 in the World. And her boyfriend, Ivan, who was in turn Ella’s brother, was in the top one hundred male tennis players in Britain.

The night wore and everyone else had seemed to get drunker and drunker apart from me, although I was still having a good time…just.

Ella was gone. I couldn’t stand her like that. It got to 3.30am and I really needed to go with the Carmientti twins and Samantha and Kiri to catch a taxi home to see my family, but she just wouldn’t let me go.

“Stay with me Noah.”
“Look after me Noah.”
“My parents think you’re staying at mine. Stay Noah.”
“Noah, look after me.”
“Sort me out, Noah!”

I was bored. I just wanted to leave. And she wasn’t making it any easier. She’d told me previously that she couldn’t spend her New Years Eve away from her family, yet that was what I was doing for her, and she couldn’t allow me to go and see my family after being with her all night celebrating! Something snapped within me.

“Look Ella. I'm away from my family and I want to see them for the New Years celebrations. Is that so much to ask? I came here for you, to spend time with you. I meet your parents, I dance in front of your parents, and I’ve been looking after you and feeding you water. I just want to go and see my family. Hayley and Brooke are waiting outside in the cold for me and you’re delaying me and now they’re getting angry.”

She looked at me with puppy dog eyes. But it didn’t bother me.

“That’s a lie,” I later told Danny.

It did bother me; but not enough to make me stay. She had pushed me over the line. Had I been too harsh? After all, she was drunk. Could I have handled it differently? Who knows.

That morning Kiri, Samantha and I slept in the Carmientti’s house. We hadn’t managed to find a taxi and their parents offered us their guestrooms, we couldn’t refuse.

Ella had been bombarding me with phone calls and text messages, in which I lied.

“I'm in the taxi, on my way home. I’ll text you in the morning. Xxxx”

Why had I lied? “I guess it’s just easier this way, no one gets hurt, especially in her drunken state,” I told Hayley over a cup of home made tea the next morning.

“But…”

“But no! She really got to me last night; it was like I was on a leash. I felt like she was my responsibility even though her parents were in another room. After we left, she rang me countless times, hung up on me and then texted me even more. It was like she was Big Brother and she needed to know my every move.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Of course it’s true.”
I got home and slept the rest of the day, ignoring texts from everyone. I couldn’t face it, and needed time to cool off from Ella. I thought to myself in between periods of sleeping: could this really be the beginning of the end? Or was it just parts of the process?

"How do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?"

2006-12-24T21:21:00.001Z

I arrived in London and got my transfer train to Essex for the 21st birthday of a close friend Tess. She'd been in California for the past two years or so and wanted to see everyone before she applied to University. I met with the usual gang: Ashley, Hermione and Adam and Hermione's German friend Martin. The drink was flowing and everyone was having a great time. Adam brought up an incident in October where Hermione and I got drunk and made out. He kept referencing it.

Hermione, Ashley, Adam and I had been in London before our trip to New York, which Hermione didn't attend. Hermione and I were persuaded to go to the noted gay club G-A-Y, after heavy persuasion from Ashley and Adam, and we thought we'd seen Daniel Radcliffe walk past. It turned out to be great fun. Lots of cocktails. Lots of flash photography. Lots of dancing. At one point the barman called me a "beetch" playfully, presumably he meant "bitch", for me not drinking his Bloody Mary's. Then Hermione and I got closer, and as we left for the station to make sure Hermione got her train, there was some sort of lustful chemistry between us. We kissed. And kept kissing at different locations in London until we reached the station, where we kissed goodbye.

Ashley told me, and everyone else later that she found it "so funny that the two gays didn't have as much fun as the two straights."

Since then, Hermione and I have talked and remained friends, no more no less. But the past, and my past actions, always seem to bite me in the butt.

Oh, here's a love story for you. Once upon a summer, my friend Danny fell in love. It was sweet really. They met when he had signed up for a summer abroad programme in the USA. They spent the week holding hands, exchanging life stories, and telling each other they'd keep in contact for life. Photos of the two were taken, and memories were made. It was all very sweet, and the first of it's kind for Danny, who was a serial single and never really seemed to commit. Although Danny and this girl, we'll call her Kitty, never commited, or even publicly acknowledged their feelings for each other, they and everyone else saw the connection they'd made, and Danny and Kitty at least were hoping that connection would stay strong even back in England in the dark, depths of the 'English winter'.

Their parting at the airport was "hell" Danny told me. Once they'd claimed their baggage, they just looked at each other with Kitty proclaiming "This is gonna be hell!" and kissing him on the lips.

"That was a testement to the intensity of this whole Kitty situation," he told me. It was obvious he still had feelings for her.

They kissed several more times, "no tongues though", before Danny eventually left with Ashley for the North-East of England, and she remained in London.

"It hurt so much leaving her. It made me depressed. Just thinking about her it was..." Danny struggled to find the words.

"I know man, I know."

He made a visit in Dundee, where she was studying dance at University, in an attempt to keep their connection strong, but it was then that Danny realised things weren't the same and that, as corny as it sounds, it wasn't summer anymore. He made a conscious decision to get over her, though he then announced to a table full of his friends at a mutual friend of ours 18th birthday celebration meal that she was his “true love”.

Now, what makes the story relevant to today, and how you can never leave the past in the past, is he has a girlfriend. He adores her. But on a recent night out, where he was hideously drunk, he got home and signed into MSN.

“A confessional ensued as I told Kitty EVERYTHING! From meeting in USA to now. How I felt. I don’t remember exact words. But she returned my feelings for her. Now, what do I do Noah? Do I keep what I have, and what I can see working and where I can see the relationship growing into love, or gamble it for a long-distance relationship, but a relationship where the love has already been established? Noah, seriously, help me!” He ate the pepperoni from the top of his pizza. I could tell he’d lost his appetite.

“I honestly don’t know Danny, I really don’t. I think this ones a one for the ladies to advise, and, maybe you’re gonna have to figure this one out on your own.”

“Great, just what I was afraid of.” He sipped the water whilst simultaneously looking worried.

It was a tough situation to be in. I had a thought: could you ever really leave the past behind? How in the past is the past? Will it always find a way to get to your heart?

I looked at Hermione. She was laughing with Martin and Tess, and Ashley and Adam were dancing. I sipped my OJ. I thought to myself that there was definitely ‘the spark’, but I could only imagine us as friends. I knew though that although our kiss was in the past, it would always be there whenever we saw each other.

"Cheap Vodka and Cheap Clubs"

2006-12-17T21:06:00.001Z

"So do you love her?" Skye enquired over a jug of Long Island Iced Tea, on a night out.

"Well...um..." This was followed by even more 'umming' and 'awing' as I tried everything and anything to use everything and anything but the 'L' word. "It's a bit early to say. We've only been going out," I hate that term - I mean where exactly were we going? "for a little under a month."

"Noah...does she give you butterflies?"

"She does." I replied.

I couldn't help but think back to feeling like a 15 year-old again - which is exactly what Ella is.

Before I met up with Skye and her boyfriend Aidan, who was our designated driver for the evening, I'd spent the afternoon with Ella at a shopping centre, gathering presents for Christmas.

"We spent the afternoon holding hands and looking into each others eyes," I told Aspen while Skye and Aidan were at the bar. I failed to tell him about our "fragrance war" in the perfume shop, fearing it would sound too immature.

"Puppy love Noah, puppy love. You have to be careful, remember how girls at 15 got attached really easy?"

"You think? Ugh I honestly do not care - so what if she's younger - and an adolescent - I really like her; is a year and a few months really that big of a deal?"

"Just wait..."

Why had I resigned myself to using the world adolescent? What was I? A 75 year old man talking about "those pesky adolescents on the metro"?

I spent my train journey down to London the next day thinking about Ella. Why was I so scared of the word 'adolescent'? I mean, we'd all been there.

Hungover, with big dark glasses, and a bottle of water becoming a permanant fixture in my hand, I phoned her.

"Ugh Ella, I feel so bad!"

"I'm not surprised. Babe, when you phoned me you were slurring and shouting and everything!"

"Oh wow! I don't know what happened. I think it was the house treble vodkas," they were cheaper apparently, "Oh no. Oh no! Please tell me you didn't hear Wonderwall!" Oasis' classic had come on and Skye and I had phoned her.

"Yeah, it was if I was really there."

"I actually cannot believe it. I can't believe how drunk I got. I can't believe how hungover and sick I feel right now. Well, I'm gonna go, probably get some food. I'll see you babba!"

There were so many thing I felt like I need to say - like how I quite literally am disaster. I just wanted to try and warn her about me before things got anymore serious. For example, I'm a serial binge drinker who you'll quite possibly receive calls from at 2am, totally wasted from cheap vodka from a cheap club. But for now I wouldn't.

"I think I'm still drunk, " I thought to myself, "Oh God!"

"Status: In A Relationship"

2006-12-07T17:31:00.002Z

There comes a time in everyone's life when they change their status. For Richard Branson it was becoming a 'Sir'. For Camilla it was becoming 'Her Royal Highness, The Duchess of Cornwall'. And for me, it was changing my MySpace status to: 'In a Relationship'.

In a world of text messages, instant messages and MySpace, how hard could it be to change my status? The answer? A lot harder than I thought.

I spoke to a friend over MSN one day.

"Aspen, do you think I should change my MySpace to 'In a Relationship'?" I asked him.

"Um...sure, go for it!" He replied.

I just didn't want to put myself in a position of vulnerability, but I did want to show Ella that I did care.

"How long have you been 'going out' then?" He asked.

"Since the infamous party where I got out-of-my-mind drunk and declared my love for her several times, to her face...AND in several voicemails."

"Oh...Well I definately think you should change it." He reassured me that it was the right thing to do.

Was Aspen right? Was I really ready to take the plunge and click the button?

A couple of days later, on a usually quiet Thursday night, I was making my way into the city for another 18th birthday celebration. Kiri's. We, we being a group of her closest friends, were invited for an Italian at The Gate. Long Island Ice Tea after Long Island Ice Tea, the conversation fell into the area of age difference in partners, specifically the age difference between me and Ella.

"So are you not bothered by it?" Saycon asked me.

"Not really...You can't help who you fall for." Wow, I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. This was met with an "Aw" from the 7 other ladies at the table, with me and Aspen looking at each other and rolling our eyes.

"Old enough to bleed, old enough to breed," Aspen said, this met with open mouths and shocked gasps, "is what someone told me. I think it's sick!" He hastily added.

I laughed and laughed, while taking a break to order another jug of Long Island Ice Tea.

Conversation led to elsewhere, and Samantha leaned over the table and whispered: "Don't worry Noah, I won't judge you."

The next night I was invited to another 18th birthday party. This time at Studio, a nightclub in the town my college is situated. I had invited Ella to come along and she did. We spent the night drinking vodka, holding hands and dancing/kissing/gazing into each others eyes.

"It all seemed very adolescent," Danny said to me later, "She just seemed to be infatuated by you, and you her, like you were..."

"...15 again?" I was thinking exactly the same. Ella was 15. I started to wonder what I was getting myself into. Was this puppy love? Or was I forgetting the feelings I had for girls when I was 15?

Was I becoming 15 again? Was I demonstrating that 'you're only as young as you're last girlfriend'?

"Hot Kisses & Hangovers"

2006-12-03T22:31:00.001Z

A couple of weeks back, I attended an 18th birthday party; it was one in a succession of 18th birthday parties I've been to lately. "Is Ella going to be there?" My friend Danny asked me. "I think so...I hope so." I knew she would be. She'd been friends with the newly turned 18 year old since she was 7. "Well have fun, and just make sure you don't get together when you're drunk, she might think it's just the alcohol."

He made a valid point. If I got hideously drunk and declared my true feelings for her, maybe it would be passed off as another one of those drunken declarations of love that always seem to happen when I get drunk at parties.

I had a thought. Could alcohol be to blame for the pairings of many couples? Could it be Brad and Angelina shared a bottle of wine before falling head over heels in love? And how about TomKat...could it be there romance started over a beer or two? And maybe if Shakespeare hadn't had his way Romeo and Juliet would have fallen in love over several shots of Tequila. It was an interesting thought, and one that may turn out to be true.

I spent almost thirty minutes trying to choose what would look perfect, hopefully trying to seduce Ella into a relationship. "Sorted," I hoped to myself that I looked good enough, because I'd be lying to say that looks, and impressions, don't matter.

I met my friends Danny, Samantha and Kiri for a few pre-party drinks that would hopefully build my 'Dutch courage'. We made plans to visit London and spend copious amounts of money on watching the many new musicals to hit London this season: Wicked and Avenue Q were the front runners. And then we left for the party.

Our arrival at the party was met with, for me at least, tedious hand shakes with people I never speak to and drunken hugs from the people I do speak to. I immediately scouted the room for Ella. I couldn't see her. I'd been assured by her she'd be here so I made my way to the bar.

Three double vodka and cokes later Samantha told me of her arrival. I bounded over to her and greeted her with a hug - one of those drunken hugs I always complained about.

"Ella! How are you babe?" Did I just say 'babe'? I never say 'babe'.

"I'm great Noah. How about you? Are you drunk already?"

"No, no, don't be silly. I'm good though, really…good."

Maybe it was the lack of curry I'd eaten, or tried to eat; earlier but the vodka was sure making its mark. Then again, it could be that three double vodka and cokes is actually a lot! Already I seemed to be £15 out of pocket.

"Hey. Do you want to get a drink? Come to the bar with me." I grabbed Ella's hand and pulled her to the bar.

"Can I get another double vodka and coke, and....." I looked at Ella who looked at the barman.

"....a vodka, lemon and lime please."

We looked at each other and smiled...'Could this be the start of something new?' I thought to myself.

After what seemed like forever, and after what I've been told was six double vodka and cokes, we went to dance...I say dance, but I actually mean "stupidly shaking what your mama gave you" as a friend one described it.

"So..." I began.

"So..." She replied.

I thought to myself 'here goes...' and went in for the kill.

We spent what felt like two hours kissing. Just kissing. Occassionally we glanced at each other. Then more kissing. Then a trip to the bar. And then again more kissing. All the while holding hands.

"That's my Dad behind you." She whispered to me.

"FUCK! What?"

"That's my Dad."

OH SHIT! Usually first introductions to your partner's parents aren't when you've had over half a litre of vodka and are dancing like a fool whilst kissing their daughter.

"I must have made such a good impression" I told Danny over lunch several days later.

"Well at least they've seen the real you.." He tried to console me, but it just wasn't working.

"What? An older, alcoholic lathario seducing their younger daughter without thinking of the consequences. Fucking great."

"Jeez Noah, exageration much?" He said while pushing a lettuce leaf into his mouth, "Seriously, calm down. I bet they were drunk too! You shouldn't worry. They probably don't even remember."

"Ella told me they do. Apparently I got her to introduce me to her parents, and she did! Then when I left I left her a string of voicemails that she happily played to me at the bus stop that Monday. Great!"

There was a moment of silence before Danny changed the subject. "So how did you feel the next morning then?"

"Like shit. Absolute shit. And what's more is that I had to travel with my parents and brother down to Leeds to drop him back at University. Like I even wanted to."

"Lesson to be learnt maybe?" He asked, rhetorically. I smirked and drank the rest of my water.

Maybe Danny was right. There probably was a lesson in all of this. But I was probably too hungover to figure it out.

"Home is where the heart is meant to be..."

2006-11-26T18:34:00.001Z

Home. A safe-place. A heaven. A utopia. New York City.

At the end of October I spent a week in the city I like to refer to as home. It was my first visit, but I'd been wanting to visit for years. I knew I'd instantly fall in love, and not want to leave...and I did.

There was something about the city that just clicked with me. Maybe it was the tall buildings. Maybe it was the 'hub' like atmosphere it had there. Maybe it was Broadway. Maybe it was the parks surrounded by sky scrapers. Whatever it was, it made me want to stay even more. I thought 'fuck everything at home, this is where I want to be, why should I leave?'

Reality maybe? Money. Jobs. Visas. Seriously, would it even be a possibility.

I told my friend Sally as we walked from breakfast one morning: "I just feel so at home here."

She replied with: "Yeah, I could imagine you living here, it suits you."

My heart melted a little more. Who am I kidding? My heart melted A LOT!

All I know is, home is where the heart is meant to be, and I sure know my heart isn't meant to be here.

"The Age of Innocence?"

2006-11-21T14:17:00.001Z

Recently, I've been getting to know this girl. She's funny, she's sweet, and when she smiles I smile. It can't be helped. "She's like this little bundle of fun, and that's what need right now" I told a friend over coffee at our favourite little coffee shop, just off one of the main streets in the city.

"Lately, my life has consisted of homework, timed essays, studying for the timed essays, university applications, worrying about the university applications, and heavy drinking sessions at various bars around the city on Friday nights. So, right about now, I could use a little fun and laughter". She smiled weakily, and I hastily added that my drinking sessions had been fun, realising I'd been with her for most of them. "I just need that change, you know?" trying desperately to dig myself out of the whole.

"Yeah, I know," she said, taking a long sip from her mocha.

As we left, she asked me "tell me more about Ella." To be honest, I didn't know a lot, but I wanted to know more. But I decided to wing it, and once my mouth opened, it wouldn't close.

"Well, she's a student at my school, blonde hair, smiley, just really warm."

"How old is she?"

SHIT! Alarm bells! How old actually was she? I knew she was younger than me, I could tell by the uniform. So that already added up to a year. Could it actually be two years? SHIT!

"Old enough..." I tried.

"How old Noah?"

"...two years younger than me." I looked away.

"TWO YEARS...Noah."

"It's honestly not that bad." I lept in. It wasn't that bad, giving it more thought. "I'm the youngest in the senior class, by a lot, and she, I think, is one of the oldest, so it can only be a year and a couple of months." I later found out it was. My birthday being end of August, hers end of April.

"Noah...I won't judge, but think about it." And with that, we went looking for a birthday present for a friend's birthday our memory had temporarily misplaced.

"6 billion souls, and sometimes, all you need is one"

2006-10-20T08:55:00.000Z

'There are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day, others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men at war with good, and some are good struggling with evil. 6 billion people in the world, 6 billion souls, and sometimes, all you need is one.'

So, I guess it's true. When you're down, lonely, have something on your mind, or even ill like me, the thought of that one person's face lightens your day up. Sometimes it's that one person who helps you through the day. Sometimes it's that one person who texts you before, and after, events they know you're doing. And sometimes, that one person is all you need.

"I bet you'd live here if you could...and be one of us"

2006-10-19T14:05:00.001Z

So now I'm home, with the fire on and MTV marathons playing out of my TV set. 'This town' is their town apparently.

MTV's 'Rich Girls' is vulgar, yet compulsive. It follows 'rich girls' Ally Hilfiger and Jaime Gleicher as they take trips to LA and London, and live their high life in NYC. We see them graduate High School, reminding us they really are just girls, and we see them, well Jaime at least, starting college.

Throughout the series, they talk about adopting children as if they were adopting a new handbag. They discuss where they could adopt from as if they were discussing where they could buy their new purse from: Cambodia, Africa, England...Versace, Chloe, Gucci. And it's this that makes the viewer think that they haven't really thought about it, and are helping others to help themselves.

At times though, we see the vulnerable side the 'rich girls'. Jaime has depression and suffers anxiety attacks. In some episodes it's clear, particularly in London, that Jaime is not that well. Her best friend Ally also suffers an emotion breakdown or sorts when she has no idea what she'll do with her life, which leads her to realising she had no childhood.

But, in the season finale as Jaime prepares for her stay at Barnard College in NY, she is happy, and prepared for a new chapter in her life. She even feels ready to talk to an old friend who hurt her emotionally after they graduated. Ally, her best friend, temps at her Dad's fashion house, and here, we see a possible career for her.

So, although it's vulgar in many, many, places, looking into NY's high society is voyeurism at it's best and watching the girls thinking they're being serious and really helping out, is really quite funny.

"...And Who I Am Now"

2006-10-18T12:36:00.002Z

My name is Noah Austin (psuedonym, naturally). I'm in my last year (a senior your could say) at a community school's 6th Form. It's your typical school: lots of people...nameless faces and faceless names. Seas and oceans of black blazors, white shirts and stripey yellow ties flood the corridors in between lesson, with dots of 'normality' (i.e. the non uniformed clothes of the 6th formers) every now and then. Strict internet rules that piss us all off and computers with printers that seldom work. Grades that you wish could be higher, but hardly ever get there, and teachers you sometimes wish were a little better, but again, they never get there. So, all in all, your typical school.

So who am I...a jagged little pill? A supposed former infatuation junkie? A little bit of everything all rolled into one. I guess you could say that. Keep reading, and then maybe you'll learn a little about me. I'm still looking for that 'one'.

"The Break-Up"

2006-01-10T20:40:00.001Z

It started with 'maybe she doesn't like me' thoughts and ended with a break-up...from her side.

It was something along the lines of, "I'm not sure I feel the same way about you as you do about me."

Oh really? I would find out later that this was one of her 'lines' used to shrug guys off.

"But 14 days," I told Madeline, "That HAS to be some sort of record...for me anyway!" I added sarcastically.

"I wonder what took her so long," Madeline giggled. I laughed. I surprisingly wasn't feeling as bad as I thought maybe I would feel about it.

14 days...pffft, lets try a bit harder next time eh?

"A Very Bright Christmas"

2005-12-24T20:31:00.002Z

'Wow! Five whole days into a new relationship'...The usual thoughts I thought to myself before sleeping. 'Maybe this could be it'...followed by the whole 'the one' thoughts.

"This goes to prove I am in fact normal, and not destined for singledom and mass loneliness in later life." I told a good friend of mine, Kayla.

"Noah, I'm so, so happy for you. You really deserve it!" She replied, sounding half surprised, but half genuine too, "So, when did you last speak?"

"Um...2 days ago." Her mouth fell open. "What?! Is that bad?"

"Well it's not exactly good."

"Oh shit...to be fair though I've been ill and quarenteened to the house." I defended myself, it was needed.

"What about text, or phone?" She said, smirking a little. It was more of a smirk of disbelief.

"Oh shit, I hope I don't fuck things up with her!" I said, taking a drink from a gingerbread latte.

In February, I was lied to by Kaci, which felt worse that cheating with her on a friend called Jason. He forgave me, and for that I'm thankful.

In May, I left my school with some good qualifications, and transfered to a new 6th Form in September.

In October, I was asked out by a girl confused with her sexuality at the time. I declined politely.

And now, now I'm with this girl, Jaime. She really is amazing. She's making my Christmas a whole lot brighter.

"The First Cut Is The Deepest"

2005-02-10T20:23:00.001Z

Friday nights in Washington aren’t really that exciting unless you have plans. Lucky for me, I did - two weeks in a row.

While discussing our, what was going to be, boring Friday nights, Madeline told me she was taking me to a bar: “Wetherspoons?” I said, “Are you sure I’ll get in?” I was quite hesitant. I’d heard tales, most probably myths, about this place and wasn’t so sure. I reluctantly agreed and we said we’d meet at 7:30pm.

At 7:30pm I left and walked up to Madeline’s. Her mother had agreed to take us there.

When we got there I was pretty nervous. Madeline and I detoured into a small supermarket so she could buy some ‘Marlborough Lights’. Once she had them, we walked up the street until we got to ‘Wetherspoons’.

Inside, Madeline scanned the room for ‘Joe’ while I generally scanned the room, taking in as much as I could. I remember thinking to myself: ‘I want to be like a sponge, absorbing as much as I could.’ I was drunk when I thought this; it’s not something I’d usually think.

We spent the night getting drink on ‘Corona and Lime’ and smoking cigarettes, I still had some left from Jason’s party.

My drunken self had a thought: Was this really as bad as I had heard, or even anticipated? I was still waiting to be mugged, beaten up or shot. In reality, it wasn’t that bad.

During our, frequent, trips to relieve ourselves Madeline received a text message from her current boyfriend, we’ll call him ‘Adam’. ‘Adam Stevenson’ was from London and training to be a chemist. She earlier told me “he knows his work is boring so we generally don’t talk about it.”

“So, who’s it from? ‘Adam’? ‘Joe’? Tell me!” I insisted.

“It’s from ‘Adam’, he say’s he might be coming down with his friends.” She informed me.

My stomach sunk. Then once I was over the initial shock of actually meeting Madeline’s new boyfriend, I smiled. I was excited. From what I’d heard, he was nice, nicer than ‘Joe’.

After more drinks, and more cigarettes, we were both pretty drunk.

“Shit, it’s ‘Adam’.” Madeline told me.

I looked around, trying to spot his yellow t-shirt. “Where?” I enquired, standing while I searched.

She ordered me to sit down. I did. A couple of minutes later ‘Adam’ strolled over and I just sat, nodding my head, trying to act more sober than I was. We spoke, well, when I say ‘we spoke’ it was mostly Madeline and ‘Adam’ speaking while I was nodding my head, making sure I didn’t put my foot in it.

He left and sat with his friends, of course, Madeline commented on this to me when he’d gone.

She said something like: “Fine. Bastard!” and I agreed. We left around twenty minutes later. We wandered down the street to ‘The Tavern’, a bar where my uncle works as the DJ. I told Madeline about how at Jason’s party, Jason kissed our friends’ then girlfriend Kaci. She seemed shock, but maybe it was just the alcohol.

“So yeah, you remember Kaci? Well, Jason apparently kissed her, as in seriously kissed her.” I told her.

I don’t remember her reply. It was something derogatory. What I didn’t tell Madeline at that time was how I had started liking Kaci.

I drank more as the night went on, as did Madeline. Eventually we figured it was time to go and we waited for Madeline’s mother to come get us.

The Friday after I went to the Newcastle ‘Eagles’ basketball game, along with 7,000 other people. They won, and I had lost my voice by the time the match had finished. Tanya and Marissa persuaded me to go out with them so I phoned Madeline and we arranged to meet at ‘The Tavern’.

We met her and I got semi-drunk. Drunk enough I thought it would be ok for me to text Kaci. I asked Marissa what she thought.“Maybe I should text Kaci. What do you think?”

“No. Don’t do it. You’ll regret it!” She seemed pretty sure that I shouldn’t do it.

We moved onto ‘The Delaware’ after and that’s when ‘Adam’ surprised Madeline by showing up.

“Shit! There’s Adam.” She said it without moving her lips. I looked over and saw him walking towards us.

“Not drunk tonight then?” He said to me.

“No, not really.” I said, grinning...embarrassed.

Eventually, Marissa, Tanya and I left and we got into a taxi. When I got home I texted Kaci.

Kaci Scott was a year younger than me. Her beauty seemed to entice me. After Jason’s party, her then boyfriend and her split up and Jason asked her out. It seemed so wrong for Kaci and Jason to be girlfriend/boyfriend. They just weren’t compatible. When I found out my stomach dropped. It was only then did I realise how much I liked her and how much I wanted to be the one going out with her. Jason didn’t care - he was desperate. The first cut seemed to be the deepest. I was just waiting for something worse to happen, something that would take my mind of Jason and Kaci.

“Hi Kaci. I know I’ll probably regret this when I'm sober but so. I know you’re going out with Jason but I really, really, really like you. I don’t know. It’s strange. Text me back, Noah x.”

That morning I woke up. My head was banging and I had this feeling that I’d done something I knew I’d regret. I was right. I remember sending her a text message. I felt like a shit-head. I had to face her Monday morning. Jason was in Austria, skiing and probably fucking some random girl.

I had a thought: would Jason really mind if I ‘stole’ Kaci from him?

I talked to Madeline on the phone the next morning:“I sent her a text message, a fucking text message.”

“What did it say?” she asked.

“Something about me really, really liking her and regretting sending this when I'm sober. Oh fuck, what have I done?” I’d been questioning myself, and running my hands through my hair, all day.

“Has she replied yet?”

“No. What if she’s told Jason?” I worried that this could be the end of the fourteen-year long friendship I’d had with him.

“To be honest Noah, I really don’t think Jason would mind if you and Kaci got together. I honestly don’t think he would.” She told me.

“You think?” I sat and wondered all day after the phone call. What would I say to her on Monday? What if she didn’t get it? What if she’d told Jason? All of these “what ifs” were running through my mind. I guess I’d have to wait until Monday morning.

"Vodka, Cigarettes...and Two Old Friends"

2005-01-16T18:31:00.001Z

Friday nights, in the ever-growing town of Washington in the North-East of England, allow you to get drunk, smoke and have a good time. On a recent Friday night I’d been invited to my friend Jason’s birthday party, even though his birthday was on the Tuesday.

While I was getting ready, the phone rang. It was Madeline.

“Hi Noah, do you still want me to buy you some Vodka and cigarettes for Jason’s party?” She asked me.

“Yeah that would be great Madeline.” I replied.

We discussed what size bottle of Vodka and what cigarettes I wanted then she said:

“Ok, well my mum’s taking me so I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re coming?” I said, obviously shocked.

“Yeah, Jason said I could. In fact, how are you getting there?” She asked.

“In a taxi, with Jasmine and Kayla. You could probably get in with us.” I said.

“Yeah, that would be great Noah. My mum doesn’t know where it is. What time will I meet you?”

“Um, Jasmine is coming to mine for 6:30pm so just for then.”

“Ok, great, I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.”

I put the phone down. I know the reason Jason hadn’t invited Madeline to his party until she confronted him about it. He knew it would be uncomfortable for Madeline, Nathaniel and Laila. Madeline and Nathaniel had this whole history and it would be true to say that everyone knew Laila, Nathaniel’s present girlfriend, was not happy with it. Jason, being as smart as he is, knew things would get tense and chose Nathaniel and Laila over Madeline.

I had a thought: Why did Jason choose Nathaniel and Laila over Madeline in the first place? It turned out the Jasmine had already arrived at Kayla’s house so Madeline and I walked down there. Madeline had bought me my Vodka and cigarettes and had also bought some sort of Vodka drink for herself with her pack of twenty Marlborough Lights.

The taxi took us to Jason’s house and after searching for five minutes; we finally found it. Madeline, Jasmine, Kayla and I were introduced to Jason’s ‘other friends’, who we didn’t know.

At around 7:45pm, everyone turned up. Madeline and me stood by the door, that leads to the back garden, while Laila and Nathaniel, surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, ignored us.

Madeline and I decided it would work out best if we got drunk. Out came the plastic cups and diet Pepsi, plus the bottle of ‘Glen’s Vodka’ that Madeline had bought me. I got drunk. Sometimes it feels like I want to escape, and in drinking and smoking, I found out how too...it was my escapism. Madeline and I went and stood outside while we smoked our way through several Marlborough Lights, something we did quite often that night. We talked about things and Marissa Bushnell, the girl in our “clique” who gets drunk, then gets emotional, and then cries, and her present boyfriend, who is also one of Madeline’s ex-boyfriends, Joshua Williams came and joined us. Marissa soon went back inside and I stood and watched Joshua and Marissa catch up. I thought to myself in my drunken state: How sweet.

It turned out that Joshua and Marissa were having another fight. Joshua later told me:“We were in the bathroom and I was going to fuck her, but, I couldn’t get it hard, you know how it is? I'm drunk so it’s probably because of the alcohol. So she just said ‘Fine!’ and stormed out, as per usual.”

“Yeah. I understand. I’ll stick up for you man.” I slurred my words as I spoke.

The night was drawing to a close. I was thinking to myself: Thank God nothing between Madeline and Laila has flared up. I guess I spoke too soon.

Laila’s brother had come to pick Laila and Nathaniel up. I went out and spoke to him, as did Skye, and Aidan. We’d met him at Nathaniel’s surprise party, back at the start of December.

Back in the house, I saw Laila walking over to Madeline. I knew something was going to happen. I was right.

Laila was pointing her finger in Madeline’s face shouting, “You ever call me a man again I’ll come after you, right?”

Madeline was obviously confused, saying, “What? This is the first time I’ve ever met you or spoke to you.”

“No, you called me a man on the phone.” She replied.

“What are you doing? You’re in someone else’s house. He’s not even your friend. You’re with Nathaniel. Have some respect.” Madeline later told me she, Laila, didn’t intimidate her.

“Come outside then!” Laila shouted.

“What? Look at yourself Laila. You’re acting like a fool.” Madeline responded.

At that point Nathaniel came and took Laila away while I pushed Madeline into the kitchen and shut the door.

However nice Laila was to me, I told Madeline: “She’s not worth it, leave it.”

“I know she’s not worth it,” Madeline said to me, piecing bits of her mobile phone together so she could phone a taxi to come and collect her and me.

The situation between Joshua and Marissa grew worse as the night went on too. I sympathised with Joshua, even though I was Marissa’s friend. Marissa’s other friends took on Joshua, making him out to be the bad guy. I thought to myself: Did they really know what was going on? Would they think differently if they did know? The majority of her friends being female, I don’t think so.

By the end of the night, I invited Joshua to get in the taxi with Madeline and I. He accepted. It was only on the way home did I say we should all go to Madeline’s house and have pizza. She didn’t seem to mind so we did.

Joshua and I stayed at Madeline’s house until around 1:30pm. Joshua and Madeline mostly did the talking. I tried to absorb their conversations as much as I could. They talked about everything that had happened since they last spoke. I felt out of place a little, but it didn’t bother me that much. I sat and ate pizza, and observed two old friends, become new friends.

Maybe this would be Madeline and I in the years to come, after she’d moved to Darlington and I’d moved to Manhattan, although at the party, I'm sure we mentioned ‘Manhattan’, ‘together’, and a ‘studio apartment’ in the same sentence. Maybe we wouldn’t have to catch up like Joshua and Madeline did because we would still talk to each other. Maybe, just, maybe. Who knows?

"The Place I'd Come To Fear The Most"

2005-01-08T02:51:00.001Z

A couple of evenings ago, two old friends met up with another old friend, without having the fourth old friend there as she was busy with her boyfriend.

I’ll start from the beginning, which is a very good place to start.

After carrying what seemed like four thousand books home, I was just about ready to collapse and settle for an early night, the first in what was now to be known as ‘the week and a half I lived on coffee’, when the phone rang.

“Hi, is Noah there please?” Jason asked. My voice couldn’t have changed that much since an hour and a half ago, which was when I last saw him.

“It is Noah,” I answered, “What’s up?”

“It’s just it’s my Uncle’s birthday party tonight and I was wondering whether you would come to keep me company?”

“Hmmm, I'm not sure, I wanted an early night and have some work to do.” I answered.

“Noah, please come. I’ll invite Madeline and Skye, and even Aidan!” He replied. It was strange, as Jason had never really liked Aidan.

“I’ll tell you what, if any of them go, I will. Deal?” I said.

“Deal. I’ll phone Madeline now. - ” He said, hanging up before he said goodbye. I was expecting a phone call a couple of minutes later telling me what was happening, but when there was no phone call, I decided to phone Madeline.

“Hi Madeline, it’s Noah. Are you going to this party tonight? Has Jason even phoned you?” I asked her.

“Yeah, but I'm not sure whether I should. Joe came round last night and we sorted things out. I jus thought it would be easier if we got back together, now I'm thinking ‘what the fuck have I done?’” She replied.

At that point, I was thinking ‘what the fuck has she done?’ too. I like Joe, I honestly do, but Madeline has told me she loves him more like a brother than a lover.

“Aw Madeline. You’ll figure something out. So about this party, are you coming? I said I’d go if you did.” I told her.

“Yeah, go on, we’ll go. What should I wear?” She asked.

“I heard it was fancy dress.” I said, holding my laugh in.

“You’re joking? If you are I’ll kill you.” Madeline jokingly threatened.

“I'm joking. Calm down. Um, just phone Jason and ask him what the major details are. Phone me when you get some.”

“Ok, will do. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Three phone calls later; the major, and minor, details had all been sorted. Madeline and I were meeting Jason outside of ‘The Stella’ at 7pm. He said if we were there before him “wait outside because it will be strange for two unknowns walking around in the party.”

‘The Stella’ is almost a ‘working gentleman’s club’, but almost a pub too. It had function rooms, one of them being where the party was held.Madeline and I stood outside until 7:35pm, which was when Jason eventually arrived. ‘Fucker’ I thought to myself in my head, I'm sure Madeline was thinking the same.

In this town, you always know someone, who knows someone who can get you into a party, and this was one of those moments.

We walked into the function room, all eyes on us since no one seemed to recognise us. We settled at a table in the corner, hiding us from Jason’s family, or so we thought. It turned out that some of his family sat near us.

After thirty minutes or so, Madeline and I plucked up the courage to walk to the bar, without caring if Jason’s family were staring, and then looking at each other and asking: “um, does anyone know who they are?”

I didn’t know what I wanted exactly, but I knew it had to be alcoholic. Madeline ordered a pint of Cider and Black current and I got a half-pint of Cider and Black current, which I wasn’t too keen on.

Madeline and I took regular cigarette breaks, even though I wasn’t smoking at that time. I just stood with her while she offered me cigarettes and talked about Joe and Adam, who had since phoned her when we were waiting for Jason. It turned out she was ringing the wrong number and it was Alan from London.

When Madeline and I returned to the bar, she order another ‘Cider/Black’ I think she called it and I was recommended to get a ‘Diesel’, which was lager and black current mixed. I did, I got a pint of it. I still wasn’t keen on that either. I smiled most of the night, pretending to laugh at the dumb jokes they were making. And after even more cigarette breaks I ordered a Vodka and Coke, then soon after two Vodka shots, one for me and one for Madeline. Then before we left, another Vodka and Coke, which I drank pretty quickly.

Jason’s mother drove us home and I got out at Madeline’s house as I literally live four minutes away.

“Do you fancy going for a walk?” I asked her.

“Yeah sure, we should. Wait until Jason’s mum is gone, then we’ll go.” She replied.

Once his mother had gone, Madeline pulled two cigarettes from her bag, knowing I only smoke when I'm drunk, and at 11:03pm that night, I was very drunk. I stumbled around with a cigarette in my hand and eventually, I told her everything that I had been feeling since my grandfather had died.

“Seeing Jason, and how his family are close to their grandfather, it just brought back so much.” I said. “You know, when he was in hospital, I was the most scared I have ever been.” I revealed.

“I know. Well I don’t know, but I can imagine.” She replied. Madeline was so great that night.

“And when my mum rang from the hospital to tell us he’d died, I heard the tone of my Dad’s voice, and he didn’t even need to tell me. I knew it. I knew exactly what had happened. It was horrible. I burst into tears and started shouting, ‘Well why the fuck couldn’t it have been your fucking father?’ It’s the only thing I thought of. How could someone so evil, still be alive, when the nicest man I’ve ever known had to die?” I said, close to tears, drunk, and finishing the cigarette.

“I know exactly what you mean. It doesn’t seem fair does it?” Madeline replied.

I had a thought: Would I be telling Madeline all of this if the alcohol and nicotine wasn’t there, fuelling my emotions and confidence? Of course I would, she knew it all anyway, but maybe not to this extent.

I carried on about how I wanted my Dad’s father ‘fucking dead’ and how I was planning to change my name when I reached the legal age. I said: “I don’t want anything from him,” him being Alan, my Dad’s father, “Not anything, not my looks, not my blood, not my name, just my family he’s provided me!” I joked that I should change it to “Noah Sandshaw.” Madeline laughed. I told her how he’d came to my Grandfather’s funeral and how it made me so mad to know he was watching me pay my last respects to my only Grandfather by reading a letter I had wrote to him.

I guess I don’t remember much of that night when I walked with Madeline. I remember smoking two cigarettes. I remember being close to tears talking about my Grandmother’s hospital experience, although it wasn’t nearly as awful as my Grandfather’s, who had died in there, and I remember being close to tears, because of the frustration and anger I felt towards Alan, the supposed Grandfather.

That night I went to the place I had come to fear the most, my mind. I had told Madeline everything about how I had been feeling since August. She listened. She nodded. She was everything I want in a friend.

"A Day Date In The City: Part Two"

2005-01-08T01:38:00.001Z

This isn’t the girl I thought she was’ I thought as I followed Peyton around the gallery. I was too nervous to take any notice of anything but Andy Warhol’s pieces. We left ‘The Biscuit Factory’ around thirty minutes after we arrived. I was easily bored by it.

“Um, so, what do you fancy doing now?” She asked me.

“I'm not sure, how about we go to the Baltic?” I answered.

“Yeah, I haven’t been there in while. Do you want to go the long or the short way?”

“The short way,” I said with a smile on my face, “obviously. I'm pretty lazy you know.”

After a long walk, which was supposedly the short way, and fifteen minutes of me complaining about the muscles in my legs hurting, we arrived at the ‘Millennium Bridge’, which you need to cross before you arrive at the ‘Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art’. The ‘Baltic’ was once a flourmill, with the side of the building still branded with “BALTIC FLOURMILL”. We walked slowly over the bridge.

“Look how dirty the water is.” She said.

“Yeah. Do you think they pump sewage into it?” I asked her.

“Probably.” She replied.

We stayed silent until we got over the bridge and were getting closer to the entrance of the next gallery.

“Wow, look at that.” I said pointing to the temporary ice rink opposite of the ‘Baltic’. “We should go ice-skating.” I said.

“I don’t go ice-skating, I’ve never been before.” She answered.

“I used to go all the time when I was younger, I couldn’t skate so I would cling onto my Dad.” It was true, I was tempted to go on and lie about how I eventually learned to skate, but if she changed her mind, I would look a fool, so I didn’t.

“Ah, that’s sweet.” She replied, half replying to my story and half indicating to the elderly man and women sitting on one of the bridge’s four benches; eating sandwiches and drinking coffee.

Scary thought: Would this be Peyton and I in fifty years?

We spent a couple of minutes observing the little children holding their parent’s hands, and the young teens in love holding hands, skating around the outside of the rink.

“Ok, so do you want to go into the art shop first, or should we look around?” asked Peyton.

“Hmmm, well, I want to look around first.” I would have said this if I wasn’t being a gentleman, but I was so I said: “Well, I'm fine with whatever you want to do.”

“Well, we’ll look around first and on our way out we’ll look in the shop.”

In the ‘Baltic’, each exhibition is given it’s own floor, with there being four floors, five including the observation box. We looked at the first exhibition floor, which I commented on as being “different” and Peyton commented on as being “just ok.”

I walked in front as I headed towards the elevators to take us up to the next floor.

“Oh Noah, these elevators make me feel nauseous. Is it ok if we take the stairs?” She asked, almost embarrassed by this.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need some exercise anyway.” I replied, almost sounding sarcastic. Hadn’t I had enough exercise anyway from walking to ‘The Biscuit Factory’ and then the ‘Baltic’?

Was I being this kind because, self-consciously, I knew she could be the one? It was an interesting thought.

We reached the second floor, eventually, and we walked into the exhibition.

“Wow!” I said to myself. Peyton overheard.

“Yeah, I know, it’s great right?” She said.

“It sure is, this is probably my favourite one so far, ever.” I was over-exaggerating, but she would never know.

Peyton and I left the ‘Baltic’ around forty minutes after arriving. We walked to the Starbucks where I told her to get us a table and I’d be over there once I had my ‘tall mocha’.

I sat down and she looked bored.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?” I asked her.

“No. I told you about the bad Starbucks experience I had didn’t I?” She replied.

She had already told me about but she went on to tell me again, mentioning her boyfriend and an ‘iced caramel machiatto’.

We sat in silence. I sipped my mocha and Peyton looked at the guy sitting across from me. Well, actually, she was looking more at his notebook. Later, I figured that she was trying to decipher what he was writing since she was obviously bored of watching me drink coffee.

I watched her for a minute. She was still watching the same guy, who looked Spanish, scribble in his notebook.

“I'm in love with New York.” I said, hoping to start a conversation of what we want to achieve in life.

“Yeah.” She sat in silence after that. Ten minutes later I had finished my mocha. I thought to myself: What’s wrong with her? What have I done? She was ok at school, so why now was she being silent?

“I need to go now, I said I’d be back for 4pm.” I said to her.

“Yeah ok, we’ll go now.” She replied.

It seemed as if she wasn’t at all bothered about conversing with me, or interacting with me in someway. One of the strangest things I remember Peyton saying to me was:

“That church over there, apparently over 100 witches were buried there, but no one knows exactly where because they didn’t leave markings.”

“Oh. Ok. You learn something new everyday I guess.” I replied, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah. Sorry I just know these facts, I'm big on stuff like this.”

It was at that point, after visiting a witchcraft shop selling hand-made wooden wands, made from the wood of trees from the Northumberland forests, that I knew she wasn’t right for me.

On the train home, we sat in silence, and we did on the bus as well. When I think about now, most of the day was spent in silence. But, it was that awkward moment when we both left each other at the corner of Essex Drive and Heworth Road that I’d most like to forget. We weren’t sure whether we should, kiss each other on the check, on the lips, or hug, or whatever. So after about thirty seconds in silence just looking embarrassed and awkward, I said:“Ok. I better be off. I said I’d be back soon anyway.”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll probably just see you around. You have my mobile number right?” She answered.

“Yeah I do. We’ll speak soon anyway. Bye.”

I walked away from her when she said bye. The wind was blowing so strong my hair was in my eyes and my Manhattan Skyline artwork I had bought was bending. I'm sure it wasn’t that bad for a first date.

"A Day Date In The City: Part One"

2005-01-03T17:37:00.001Z

A New Year brings new dreams, new hopes, new aspirations, and a new determination that only ever lasts until the end of January for most people. This year, I was determined to join the ‘dating game’, I had give up on relationships at some point last year when I realised I was scared of commitment, but hey, who isn’t, even if just a little.

So, a few days ago, a friend of a friend, who was now my friend, we’ll call her Peyton Dylan, told me she had a thing for me. Peyton was a year younger than me, but looked older than me. She had black hair and a pale shade of white face. I took a chance and asked her out on a ‘day-date’. She said she’d ask her boyfriend if that was ok, I was shocked, as was Mischa when I told her. He said he didn’t mind and we arranged to go to an Art Gallery where Andy Warhol’s work was currently showing.

My spies told me she was having trouble with her current boyfriend who had already cheated on her four months into there, so far, seven month relationship.

Although we had arranged what we were doing, no final date was set until the day before when she rang me.

“Hi Noah? This is Peyton.”

“Oh hello. What’s up?”

“I just had a diary check,” she said giggling, “and I'm free tomorrow if you still want to go on that date.”

“Yeah sure.” I said.“I found out that the Andy Warhol exhibition at the Biscuit Factory is only until January 6th so we should go while it’s still on.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool.” I had butterflies in my stomach already.

“Okay, so if we meet at the bus stop at school at around 10.30?”

“In the morning?”

“No, at night silly,” she said sarcastically.

“Ah ok. See you then Peyton.”

“Yeah, see you then.”

I hung up and looked in the mirror. Was I a step closer to committing myself to someone? It was an interesting thought.

The night before the ‘day-date’ I stayed up until 3am reading through old journals. The nostalgia of everything and realising how much I had changed made me less nervous. I thought to myself: right about now I could use an alcoholic drink and a cigarette. It was strange as I only smoked and drank at social occasions. 9:45am, the next day, I woke up. My alarm hadn’t gone off. “Shit!” I said to myself. My hair was being a bastard that day, she even commented on it when we were in a shop, comparing it to the Beatles-style hair.

At 10:30am I left the house. I was late. I sent her a text.“I’ll be literally three minutes.” I said, hoping I would be.

10:35am and I approached the bus stop and spotted her.

“Three minutes my ass. You’ve been five. But it’s ok, I like talking to strange old women.” She said jokingly, with a smile.

I replied with: “Five minutes? Sorry. I woke up late and had to shower and then, well, that’s it.”

We only waited two minutes and the bus came. We got on and we discussed how tired I was, how tired she was, how an apple and cup of tea can wake you up on a morning and how if I fall asleep would she wake me up.

All day I was scared in case the conversation ran out. Conversation did run out three quarters of the way there. I thought, shit. I started making up possible conversations in my head.

“I think it’s so fun listening to old women’s conversations,” she said, indicating to the two old women on the next platform who were talking to loud they might as well have been broadcasting it over a speaker.

“Yeah, I haven’t exactly done that before.” I said, sounding naïve as we climbed on to the Metro.

“Oh you should Noah, you can learn a lot. Last week I heard Dave was in hospital with a bad liver, apparently he’s an alcoholic!”

“Who’s Dave?”

“I have no idea.”

“Oh, so what you really like doing is listening to other peoples lives and their problems?” I said, joking slightly, but really meaning it over all.

“No! Well, ok, yes, maybe.” She said laughing.Conversation ran out again so I asked her which station we should get off at.

“Um…whichever one you want to.” She replied.

“Ok…Monument because that’s the closest to a Starbucks and we can walk to ‘The Biscuit Factory’ from there. I need coffee. I can’t function until 2pm without it.”

“I'm not a big coffee drinker. Bad Starbucks experience.” She said.

Bad Starbucks experience? How can that be? Starbucks is my ecstasy, and I can feel myself falling towards the addiction.

I collected my ‘grande mocha to take away’ and she told me: “Make sure I don’t buy any Dorothy shoes, now that’s my addiction.”

“Dorothy shoes? What are they?” I asked.

“Like the ones Dorothy wears in the Wizard of Oz.” She replied.

We made small talk all the way there, most of which was me asking, “are you sure you know where you’re going?” “How much longer will we be?” and “Can I see the Gallery from here?”

‘The Biscuit Factory’ was a quite new art gallery which held modern art as well as a lot of older art.

“I like seeing the more modern art, brighter colours, better patterns. I just love the modern art more.” I told her.

“You see, I like both types of art, and if I had to choose between the both, I couldn’t. I have my eye on Andy Warhol’s ‘Marilyn Monroe’ piece, £50,000 plus V.A.T.” She sighed. I could tell by this she loved art much more than me. “But, I just don’t have £50,000 plus to give away. I love it so much too. Maybe Christmas?” She said, giggling slightly.

I thought to myself: maybe she wasn’t the girl I thought she was. I then thought: I still have the rest of the day to find out.

“…And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how a friendship is ruined by a relationship”

2004-12-30T18:15:00.001Z

There’s only two times when you can ever become a ‘we’. One: the Royal we. Two: the most common of the two, if you’re in a relationship, but until then, you’re stuck as an ‘I’, and that’s single.

When you enter a relationship, ‘I’ automatically becomes a ‘we’ and ‘me’ automatically becomes an ‘us’.
‘Sorry, we can’t meet you for coffee.’
‘Us? We like having sex three times a day.’
‘Stop making fun of us!’
‘Is it ok if we meet up with you?’
‘Sorry, we’re not going anymore.’

It made me think: you share your thoughts and your body with the one you love, but do you really have to share your life?

“Doesn’t dating seem much easier than actual ‘tie-yourself-down’ relationships?” I discussed with Madeline as we travelled to Newcastle once.

“Yeah, I mean, there’s no hassle, no strict rules, no ‘oh my god, you didn’t call me?’ ” Madeline replied.

Madeline was right. There were no strict rules with dating. Why was dating not as popular? Why were so many people jumping straight into relationships without getting know their partner until they were fully committed in a relationship?

A few days passed and I arranged to meet Madeline in the city. We met at the monument and after wandering up Northumberland Street we met Joe and Joe’s mother, Darla.

“Noah, this is Joe’s mum, Darla. Darla this is Noah.” Madeline said.

“Hi, I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” She said. Maybe she was lying, I couldn’t tell.

“And it was all bad,” Madeline joked. I laughed.

Darla, Madeline and I followed Joe out of the shop. When we got out; Darla pulled a ‘Lambert and Butler’ cigarette out of her pocket and we walked back down Northumberland Street as she smoked it. We turned down a little street and stopped for a coffee at a small, underground café that had a tanning salon in the back of it. I ordered mocha, Madeline ordered an iced-mocha and Darla ordered a cappuccino. We sat in the smoking area and Darla asked:“I hope you don’t have this dirty habit,” as she pulled another Lambert and Butler from the packet.

“He does when he wants to,” Madeline told Darla. Madeline talked to Darla as if she were a friend and not her ex-boyfriend’s mother. Madeline told me that she was meant to be meeting Darla today, alone, but Joe turned up with Darla.

I had a thought: Was it hard for Madeline to let go of Joe because she was so attached to Darla? Was it like she was really in a relationship with his mother instead of him?

Joe came and met us in the coffee shop and Madeline, Darla and Joe smoked their way through cigarettes while I drank my way through the mocha.

When we left the coffee shop, Joe got angry and went home so I stayed with Madeline and Darla as they looked at clothes and shoes. We were planning on going to a shopping centre near by but we decided not to. Darla and Madeline went home and I stayed in the city. Skye had said her and Aidan were coming over so we were going to go to Starbucks to catch up. I had a new text message on my phone.

“Yeah, we’re definitely coming, but how much longer are you spending there? We’re leaving in 10 minutes. We shouldn’t be long. Skye x”

Four text messages later, three of them saying they’d be another fifteen minutes, Skye finally cancelled: “Hi, I’m really sorry but we can’t come. I hope you can forgive me. Tell Madeline I say hello. Skye x.”

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is how a friendship is ruined by a relationship. The ‘I have no time to see you’ turns to ‘We have no time to see you’ which hurts even more.

Is it time I gave up on Skye, just as Madeline has done? I’ve been thinking about it for a while but the sentimentality of our friendship means too much for me to make a decision without thinking about it more.

I got her message while I was ordering a ‘grande mocha’ from Starbucks. I changed the order so I could take it out because I got pissed off and wanted to go home.

“Hi, I just ordered the grande mocha to stay in with, is there anyway I can change that to take out now?”

“Yeah, your order hasn’t been made yet so I can change it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“It should be at the end of the counter soon.”

I took my mocha and rode the metro and bus home, alone.

Another thought: How many times can Skye shit on me like this? Ok, once, shame on her, twice, three times, four times, many more times, shame on me. It really was shame on me. I was sick of being shamed.

So, in a world where “we” over rules “I”, relationships really do destroy friendships.

"The Return of Nush - Fate?"

2004-12-30T16:06:00.001Z

A self-obsessed, new generation teenager, that I’ll call Jennifer, threw a party, uncharacteristically on a Monday night. It was a celebration that we’d completed our final ‘Winter Term’, in our final year of school. It was also to make sure our ‘Secret Santa’s’ didn’t get away without giving out their presents to their chosen friends. I luckily pulled Skye out of the hat. I bought her the debut Gwen Stefani record. She seemed please, not that I was too bothered. I received the Green Day record, ‘American Idiot’, from Tanya; I was there when she bought it so there was no surprise to be surprised with.

The party was dull, Aidan and I walked to the convenience store over the road, I bought Pepsi. I wasn’t in the mood for alcohol. We wandered back to Jennifer’s house and it was decided we would all play ‘spin the bottle’. It was boring and we soon moved on to an even more boring game of ‘truth or dare?’ By this point I thought I was going to fall asleep, and by 10pm, I’d made plans to jump into Skye and Aidan’s taxi.

The following morning Jason waked me at 11am. He wouldn’t stop phoning so eventually I had to answer.
“What?”

“Hi… are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You woke me though.”

“Oh sorry,” I knew he didn’t mean it, “Anyway, I was wondering whether you, Madeline and Skye fancied doing something, um, not today, not tomorrow, not Wednesday or Thursday but Friday?”

“Um, I will, but I don’t think Skye can, Aidan and his family are taking her to a church to give presents to the homeless. Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m being serious.”

“Oh. I thought you were joking. What about Madeline? Do you think she will?”

“I’m not sure, maybe.”

“Okay, you phone Skye, just to check, and I’ll phone Madeline.”

“Right. Goodbye.” I hung up.

I told Madeline most of the details of the party, and Jason’s phone call, the next morning over the phone. She sounded glad that she wasn’t invited to these events and I was also informed Jason hadn’t phoned her. She told me she’d made a ‘mistake’ with Joe, once last night, and once this morning. She blamed it on the alcohol last night, thought she never made an excuse for this morning, not that I was expecting one. We made plans to do something and at 5pm, she knocked on my door and we stood at the bus stop. Like all the other times, a bus ride and metro ride later, we were standing in the line at Starbucks waiting for my ‘grande mocha’ and Madeline’s ‘tall mocha’. We stayed in Starbucks until closing time, which is a pretty early 6:30pm. While in Starbucks, Madeline told me about her dates with ‘Adam’ and Joe’s breakdown. Because of Joe’s breakdown, Madeline stopped dating ‘Adam’ because the guilt was too much for her to take.

“I phoned him last night,” she told me while sipping on her ‘tall mocha’ and looking around for any signs that indicate that she can’t smoke, “he pretended to be someone else. I suppose I deserve it for ignoring him for three weeks, but I needed to sort my own shit out.”

“What did he say?” I inquired.“He pretended to be someone called Alan from London. He’s from London anyway so he didn’t need to change his accent, but I knew it was him.”

I had a thought: was the only way to break up with someone pretending to be someone else until you get the hint?

She was pissed about it, although I would be too. A good job, a healthy wage, a “glamorous lifestyle”, as Madeline put it, and a BMW would be gone. “It’s more than what I had with Joe”

At 6:31pm we walked up to “The Gate”, an exclusive hot spot in the city, surrounded by clubs and bars, which is only three or four streets away from Starbucks. “The Gate” itself was made up of bars, restaurants and on the third, and final, floor, a cinema and “sky terrace”. Madeline and I made our way to the cinema and purchased our tickets for the 7:40pm showing of the movie, “Christmas with the Kranks”.

We waited, we waited even more and eventually, at 7:12pm, we got into the cinema. I bought Peanut M&M’s and we made our way through them.

After the movie, we made our way down to Central Station. I had to use the toilet under the bridge there and I’m sure the guy who came out before me was using drugs in there. I pissed. Thank God I’m a man so I didn’t have to sit down.

“Doesn’t the trip back always seem shorter compared to the trip there?” I said to Madeline.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Wouldn’t it be so much better if this wasn’t the Metro, but it was in fact the Subway, in New York, and, we weren’t on our way home, we were on our way to our Manhattan studio apartments?”

She nodded, and smiled, I could tell it was forced but I didn’t care. I was too caught up in the fantasy of being on the Subway, in New York City, and going to my Manhattan studio apartment.

Picture this:One night later, I was lying in bed watching a rerun of “Sex and The City”. My phone signalled to me that I had a new text message. Nush. I wondered if my life was bound down to these text messages from her.

“Hi. Long time no speak. How are you? What have you been up to? Text me back, Nush x”

I had a thought: what if this was the girl I was meant to fall in love with?I decided to reply to her message.

“Yeah, long time no speak,” what she doesn’t know was I had been writing about her two nights before, “I’ve been up to nothing, how about you? Noah x”

Nine text messages, nine chances to ask her out on a date, and nine songs later on my iPod, Nush said she was going to bed. I told her to have sweet dreams.

"The Relationship Famine"

2004-12-30T15:57:00.001Z

“I have to go, my girlfriend’s coming over.” I lied. It was one of those lies you know will never come back to haunt you because you lied so you could block the ‘buddy’ who IM-ed you first, who you never talked to in your life before that first “hey” or “how are you?”

Even though it wasn’t true, and I knew it wasn’t true, it felt so good to have that sense of security that relationships bring flash before my eyes in the chat box. I quickly shut down the chat box and blocked the ‘buddy’. But when the chat box disappeared, so did that sense of security that comes with relationships.

Not being in a relationship didn’t bother me until I realised that maybe it’s been too long since my last relationship. Two years, has it really been that long? ‘Maybe I miscounted’ I thought to myself, but I hadn’t, it really had been two years.

Six, maybe seven, months ago, this famine of relationships in my life nearly ended, but it was my fear of commitment that kept it going. Legally known as Anouska, but socially known as Nush. She was a beautiful, olive-skinned, girl who was two years younger than me, but her perfume reeked maturity. We met through Jason, at a fair ground in Durham, a smaller city just outside of Newcastle. We didn’t initially click. I was more interested in her friend Lisa, who was a year older than me. She had long, dark hair and the most striking eyes. She didn’t seem interested so I was keen to play with Nush.

We flirted all afternoon. We exchanged numbers and began sending text messages everyday. A week later, and over one hundred messages sent, Nush phoned. It wasn’t meant to be as serious as she was making it. She made me promise to not answer with a no, and that was when I knew what her question was.

“Noah, will you just promise me you won’t say no?” She sounded as if she was almost crying as she asked me.

“It depends what the question is.” I replied. This went on for a good five minutes; I was trying to stall the situation, even though I knew what was eventually going to come.

“Will you go out with me?” she quickly asked.

I knew what she asked, but I need to validate it, “What did you say?”

“Will you go out with me?” she said, almost as if it were the most shameful thing in the world.

The next thing I did would come to be one of the shittiest things that I may have ever done. I hung up. I don’t know why I did it. I think it may have been because I couldn’t handle letting someone down, face-to-face, or voice-to-voice.

I sent her a text message saying, “Sorry, my battery ran out, I have been meaning to charge this for days. Anyway, I just don’t think it’s a good time to be going out with someone, I mean, I’ve just got out of a serious relationship and all I want is a bit of freedom. Sorry, Noah x”

The truth was that I hadn’t just ended a serious relationship and the one thing I didn’t need was freedom, if anything I was sick of freedom.

Was being so used to freedom holding me back from relationships as I thought they’d take my freedom away? It was an interesting thought.

I, again, needed validation; so I turned to my friend of around four years, Mischa Richards. We first began talking when I found her email address on some pen pal website and we clicked there and then. I ran to her with most of my problems. She is very open about most things and not scared to shy away from her own opinions.

“So how long have you been single for?” I asked her.

“Um…lets see, around nine months maybe,” she replied.

“I’ve been single for nearly two years!” I said, as if it was some sort of contest and I was topping her answer with mine.

“It’s no big deal Noah, some of my friends have never even been in a relationship.”

I suppose that made me feel better, knowing that at least I had some experience to help me in the future.

I wanted to know more about relationships so I asked Milly, she was an old friend of Mischa and so that’s how we met.

“Are you single?” I asked.

“Yeah, since about April, so that’s about, eight months.”

“Oh.”The more and more I enquired, the more and more normal it seemed for people to leave long gaps between relationships, but it still played on my mind that it was two years, which is twenty four months, while these two girls had so far left nine and eight months, retrospectively, between relationships.

That night I could see myself dreaming of being alone forever. Two years turned to three years, three years turned to six years and eventually six years turned to an eternity. I was shit scared of being alone. I longed for that security and warmth relationships provide. So why did I turn Nush down? That still plays on my mind now.

Only a few days ago I received a text message from her, Nush.

“Hey Jason, how are you doing? We haven’t spoke in a while so I thought I would just check up on you. Text me back, Nush x x x”

Jason? She knows I’m not Jason, and we have spoken ‘in a while’, we fucking spoke last week. What kind of game is she playing? Does she know that I’m not Jason and just saying it to piss me off, or, has she genuinely made a mistake? I’ll go with the first, reason being I seldom reply to her text messages, and maybe she is getting pissed off at me ignoring her. Oh well, what is she going to do?

"The People We've Come To Hate"

2004-12-29T01:27:00.001Z

At 9:40am on a typically English ice-cold morning, two streets away, Madeline was just waking up. Madeline Sandshaw was one of my closest friends and probably the only one who knows the most about my life without me having to tell her verbally. I’ve known her now for the better part of five years. She’s classy and sophisticated, with a brain “to die for”. I had already been awake for close to twenty minutes when we postponed our trip to the city by thirty minutes.

She was early by ten minutes, when she knocked on my door, and I was nowhere near ready, so I rushed around the house and she stood there in silence.

A bus ride and metro ride later and we were there. We wandered down Northumberland Street as Madeline smoked her way through a ‘Marlborough Light’.After our quick break at the ‘popular’ Starbucks, the conversation turned to our friend Skye Manning.

“I’ve kind of given up on Skye.” Madeline told me, as she sipped on her ‘tall mocha to take away’ (she once proclaimed ‘mochas’ as man’s greatest invention.)

“Every time I try to talk to her it’s always Aidan that she talks about, whether I’m talking to her or not, he always becomes the subject we talk about.” I couldn’t do anything else but agree, even though I hated doing so because I once loved Skye non-platonically. We both loved each other non-platonically, strangely at the same time, but neither of us had the balls to do anything about it. It was only a few weeks ago we admitted this to each other, when she and Aidan were going through one of their weekly rough patches.

“I know how it is.” I replied in agreement, “but you don’t have to go to school with her and see her talk about him everyday, every single day, and you don’t have to watch him break her heart as he wanders off into the hallway with Nathaniel.”

“I suppose. I love her I really do but I, but...” Madeline struggled to find the words she was looking for, “…but I don’t know anymore, their relationship seems to be wrong, but saying that the relationship I am in, or I’m not in, at the moment is in tatters.”

I had a thought: was Skye turning into one of those people Madeline and I hated, the ones that obsess over their partners until their partners break up with them? I would always be there for Skye, but I felt like things were eventually going to come to head. We were talking about Christmas over an MSN Messenger conversation and she suddenly interrupted with, “do you think I’m ugly? Aidan says I am and he only went out with me for my good personality.” I don’t even know why I replied.

Madeline and I carried on walking until she broke the silence with, “I don’t mean to bitch about her, but there’s nothing else I can do when I’m seeing one of my oldest friends being sucked into a relationship that I can see ending in disaster.”

I nodded. I was still thinking about Skye possibly turning into one of the ‘obsessive partners’. How could the once innocent, sweet, and kind girl I knew turn into one of the ‘obsessive partners’ that I read about on the Internet? It just didn’t feel real.

That afternoon, after Joe, Madeline’s on/off/on-again/off-again boyfriend drove us home, I spoke with my friend Jason Matthews; the biggest whore I know, for a man anyway. At a party not too long ago, I, and four other people, walked in on him fucking some virgin’s brains out. When I asked him about it later he said, “She was as tight as, as tight as,” there was a pause as he tried to think of something really tight, then, I filled in the blanks for him.
“A virgin?”
“Yes, a virgin.” He replied.

He said he’d also noticed a change in Skye. “She seems to have become more distant from our group of friends and more dependant on Aidan.” Just like before I couldn’t help but agree, even if it did hurt me in the process.“It hurts me to say it,” I said, “but I have to agree. To me, it seems like she needs Aidan’s approval of everything she does. If I had arranged to go into the city with her, and Aidan wasn’t happy about it, she’d make up some excuse as to why she couldn’t go.” She’d done that so many times, I remember them all though.

“Yeah, she did that with me. Now, I just don’t invite her anywhere. Anyway Noah, I’m meeting up with Victoria again, I know, I know, you don’t have to say it.” He replied.

“Yeah, I know I don’t have to say it, but I will anyway, you’re fucking crazy! She cheats on you every time but you just keep on running back.”

“But Noah, the sex is so good. Her parents caught us in their bed the other day, it was hot stuff dude.”“Okay, that’s all I can take, I’m still fragile from my morning mocha. Speak to you soon.”

I put down the phone. I wondered: was it this same obsession that made Jason keep going back to Victoria, and would it be the same obsession that could make Skye go back to Aidan, no matter what?

I made myself an instant coffee; you only get the good stuff from Starbucks around here. After thirty minutes of research on the Internet I learned nothing. Ignorance is bliss I guess.