It feels as though I have begun a systematic destruction of my body. I have documented my growing nicotine addiction, and not cared. I have analysed each thought and craving, and gratified each whim. I look forward to the first cigarette of the morning. In the past, I have been more than satisfied with being a social smoker, and now it has become essential to my functioning.
At night, I look out to the lights in the distance from my Brighton garden. Smoking. Thinking. Is this it? I once had, what felt to be, such a perfect life. I was in college, I had two jobs, a large group of friends, and a boyfriend who I never even once believed would break his fidelity. How naive I was.

Since this point in my life, I have broken up with no less than two boyfriends. Again, both my decisions. Now, at somewhat of a parallel; two jobs, and at university, with a fair selection of friends. No boyfriend. This is not to say that I mind, in fact, I have become quite complacent with this situation. I do not fuck around, and merely imagine, fantasise about the great romance that could be with him, or him, or him, if he were a complete gentleman. But, this is hardly ever the case.

Upon watching 'Queer as Folk', my thoughts have become occupied with the gay lifestyle, and what it means to be a) a man, and b) homosexual, and the consequences of this pairing. It is not a happy result. I have immersed my housemates, and a few friends in this lifestyle because I am curious to know whether it is indeed outrageous, and different. It is. An ex of mine is under the impression that it is inconceivable, or at least very difficult, for a couple to stay faithful over decades of 'loving'/loving. Is it? And that, you should try to forgive their mistakes, having built upon something for so long. It has become somewhat apparent that I have backed out of relationships when the possibility of being used has cropped up. I have felt myself slipping into contentedness, and feared the ignorance overwhelming my senses. You see, I, do not want to be fooled.
Men fuck, and women love. But people are still people.

Pain is an expression of humanity, and creation is not always pretty.
So desperate to not be used, that at every given opportunity it became easier to sever emotional ties, one way or another. To relocate, and begin anew, to repeat the same cycle; enjoy fleeting happiness for the fear of potential hardship. It is with this that I took great delight in punishment - to set an example of those who do wrong. I am not a god, and just barely a human. Where does the line reside? Possibly under my feet, or more than likely, within my head. As an understanding person, I do understand human behaviour, but I am unable to fathom its reaches at the same time. That is, I do not accept the wrongs we do. I can only assume that regret becomes a staple feature in one's life. To give my whole, and not some, to those who take interest. As it is truly rare that people are interested in people. One might debate their motivations, but we could be forever in doubt, and most likely will be forever in doubt. But you cannot deny the surface, which is all we are ever able to know.

I don't believe that I will ever meet someone who wants me, and just me.
The trains still run, and I still board them. I still get drunk, and I still dance.
If there is an attractive boy sitting opposite me then I can relinquish the control reality has on me, and dream of happier times with him. I can picture him holding my hand, and smiling; eyes lit...
But the boys still get off of the train a stop too early, and then I am reminded that I am alone.

I would love nothing more than to build a life with somebody, but then in turn, I am aware of the troubles with this lifestyle. The boredom, the predictability, the heightened risk of cheating. Still, I would rather that was my life than what I witness.
I have less than a year left in Brighton. The final Halloween has already been; next Bonfire night, my 22nd birthday, Christmas, New Year's, Easter, and the last summer by the seaside. I can't pretend to know what the future holds, but I know the romance.