I broke up with my girlfriend last year. I loved her with every part of myself. She didn't feel the same way. It was messy, it was painful, and it left me in a really bad place.
It took a very long time and a lot of lost weight for me to get to a place where I felt better. I realised that I could survive if I focused on the good stuff, my friends and family, comedy and music, and didn't think about love.
I told the world, "I'll be ok, just as long as everyone keeps their love off me."
Unsurprisingly, this didn't last. Why? Someone decided to unleash their love all over me. Covered in the stuff. Revolting.
A girl I met at Rangers and got on brilliantly with, sent me a text message. Sort of loves me, apparently. Over the months, this has increased to a level of needing me, and frequently threatening suicide. They are relatively empty threats, I can tell the difference between teenage defiance and true depression.
I try to counsel her, hold her hand, explain to her that it's possible to get through it, it's about living for the good bits, and for heaven's sake, lady, suicide is not an option! I like her a lot, and I try to be her friend, but in the end I am both her counsellor and torturess.
We sat and talked for a long time last night. We both felt we couldn't go on as we are. The other options are that I disappear, and she learns to live without, or we give 'togetherness' a go. For me, the latter is not an option. I live 150 miles away most of the time, and I haven't felt any form of physical attraction to anyone since Gemma - I couldn't make her happy. For my admirer, the former is not an option. She can't imagine living without me being there.
So, we carry on as we are. Awkward, unhappy and dismally hopeful.
I never thought this would happen to me again, but I received a text message from my new friend Shaun just the other day...
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