He made me happy for a while and then he made me sad. I thought I had feelings and maybe I did, maybe I didn't. All I know is they shattered like a glass that falls to the floor.
He never respected me, never felt for me, and now I know that.
I've thrown myself into work because to think of him hurts like hell - I can't and wont let myself do it too often. I hurts me in my head and in my heart and it makes my stopmach go weak. I stop eating and make myself ill and that can't happen.
I still haven't touched anything since it all happened. Smoking is my vice (we all have to have at least one vice, whether it's a cigarette or that glass of wine when you get home from work or the gram of speed you have on a friday night) and music keeps me sane.
I'm working my arse off to pay myself back the £150 that he owes me and I'm doing quite well, if I do say so myself. I'm enjoying working more than ever, I'm doing a combination of bar and kitchen work and it's one of the only things that's keeping me happy. My regulars come in on a Thursday and always manage to raise a smile and the kitchen banter keeps me laughing all day long.
I'm trying to get things in place for moving back home in the next couple of years - I think it's the best thing for me. It's a big step, halfway across the world but I've come to realise that it's probably the best thing for me. I need to get myself driving as soon as possible and get myself some kind of trade. I don't feel that nursing is right for me anymore, I'm not going to be able to cope with all the emotional shit that it'll involve. Maybe I can go back an retrain when I'm older. When my heads not a mess.
I'm thinking about perhaps asking to train to do catering at work, I'm not sure if they'll let me? But it's worth a try - you never know until you ask. If not there, then somewhere else, I just don't know how to go about finding somwehere else that wants a trainee chef! Scary, really...