Thy art so fickle

He never fails to confuse me.

So yeah, he told he'd stopped seeing Niamh. Now he's backtracking and saying that he's not seeing her "much." Whatev like. But it's not fair that he gets to have something "really really good," while I'm all alone. I could be fine and I will be fine, but I just need a man. Seriously like. And like now. I don't necessarily care about the intimacy; I'm just so ridiculously horny that I even caved in for a quick moment when Niall tried to seduce me online. Bah! At least I have some willpower not to go any further.

He said it'd be weird that he's seeing someone else, but what happens if I find someone in Belfast as well? Could he handle seeing me smooch the guy right in front of him? I suspect not, given that he was jealous of Kipp with Leigh when they weren't even together. I'd like to think I'd have enough tact to not do that crap in front of him, but given that Belfast itself has been a no-holds-barred arena for me (and Jules apparently!), I can only hope that I will be able to restrain myself. But again, I have quite the self-control skills. Only time I ever let my guard down when I shouldn't have is with J, though something good did come out of it eventually.

I think J likes to keep women on a leash. Like even though Leigh wasn't his, he still got upset about her being with Kipp (though he masqueraded the hurt as a I'm-just-pissed-cos-they-felt-they-had-to-hide-it-from-me dealie). He likes to keep his options open... and in the process, he's not letting the girls move on.

On another note, add Grace to the short list of people I hate. At the top is Robert, cos he's just a bad and fake person, but Grace is pretty evil in my eyes, too. So absolutely immature, I can't even fathom how Lorcan's gonna turn out. The poor child, being raised by another child. Lord knows if Paddy knew what he was getting himself into before this all happened. Bless their hearts, cos they'll need all the luck they can get in dealing with Grace.

Better luck next time

A few days ago, J told me he's no longer seeing Niamh. Whatev.

I didn't get the message right away. I was too busy ignoring him, cos he'd previously whipped me into a fury by slagging my taste in Oasis and accusing me of liking certain songs just to be different. (You don't know me at all, J...) I didn't bother responding to it. So when he randomly told me it was over, I was in prime position not to give a crap. Which, surprisingly, I didn't.

I think it was the way he went about it. He thought I'd be happy to hear about it, but I honestly just felt guilt and disappointment. First of all, I never wanted to get in anyone's way while I am there. She expects that we'll fight -- and she, according to J, is not a confrontation person. And I am? Why does she expect me to rage at her? If I haven't done so already, why would she think I'd do it now? I confront ideas and issues, not people. I'm so not the throw-it-down, let's-take-it-outside, dueling-type person. But again, whatev. I only ever worried about getting in Eman and Claire's way tbh.

And disappointed, why? I should be happy, right? I'm actually really irked by J's treatment of women -- as if they can be dispensed of at his will. Yeah, maybe their undoing was initiated by Niamh, but I find it slightly offensive that he could be arsed to try harder to keep it going -- a repeat of our own relationship in a way. He said that she didn't want to deal with me and that he didn't want to deal with Dublin. J, grow up. Sometimes, you're going to have to work for the things you care about most. In the end, your lack of effort makes me, maybe Niamh as well, feel like we don't matter that much.

It was also just so much easier believing that J ditched me for something substantial. That was obviously not the case. Was our relationship so dead in its tracks that he needed ANY excuse -- and one that pulled him off the moral high ground he held so dear! -- to give us a reason to be over? It makes me nauseous.

I've lost so much respect for J recently. It's so sad. And it's weird to have this highly inflammatory entry juxtaposed against the wistful and romantic nostalgia of the last one. What happened? Am I completely out of love for him now? It's all new to me.

Hehe, probably cos I'm mad fer P again. It's so funny how our relationship functions. Jules and I went on a wee version of an Irish pub crawl, and it ruled. (I've never had so much fun on a non-U2 night with Jules, though the one with Matt Murphy's comes close.) We spent most of the evening talking about how much we love certain people, and Barile and Perella (as well as Eman) were at the top of our list. Jules finally told me that when she visited him to give him the Bono pic, a day after I had dropped by, he randomly said: "Molee's changed..." lol! I giggled like a giddy schoolgirl when she said this and kept probing into the circumstances of such a random statement. Apparently, it was within the context of how everyone else seems to have stayed the same. It's so cute for him to notice but SO strange for him to relate that to Jules.

I was already swooning over him again cos of his funnily-titled emails with super-sketch subjects ("And I'm feeling Minnesota, oh yeah..."). I relistened to his mixes and convinced myself again that he wants my hot Asian (and now legal) bod -- even though I'm sure he's only in it for the ego boost. His shadily sexy mix (with the Barry White song that still makes me blush every time I hear it) could have been a duplicate he made for Andy -- who knows? Ha, it's not as if I ever expect this go anywhere, but it'd do my self-esteem a world of good, knowing that my first love (omg so cheesy!) finally has a crush on me too! :D So good. For his children's sake, I would never try to get involved with P in that scandalous way... though if a few years down the road, he's already chosen not to be with her, I'll drop everything I'm doing to be by his side. How pathetic. :(

I sent Patrick a bday present earlier last week but he's made no attempt to thank me, nor has he even bothered to tell me his new mobile number. Effed up a bit, ain't it? I know he wants me to repent, and I am trying to make it up in my own little ways, but this unidirectionality is complete shite. I think I might be done with him. :-/

Yesterday, I went out to get some stuff to make people presents. Before I left, I called Freddie, and he made me so unbelievably happy. He's the cutest little man with the sweetest Norn Aron accent ever. Too bad he'll never be my daddy-by-law anymore. :( But anyway, taking full advantage of this kick of creativity, I worked all night on one of Jules' presents, and Eman's is nearly done. I, usually critical of my own crafty endeavours, am quite pleased with the results, so I'm hoping they love them too.

All in all, I'm really happy and in wonderful spirits. I got so excited to hear NSync's Xmas album at Building #19, and now I've gotta watch Charlie Brown Christmas. This excitement's taking hold, and the only place I have to go is up. Yay! I love my life. :D

And I deserve a little more...

So many days ago, I told Eman that I regretted ever getting into a relationship with J. I thought that I would've preferred keeping our friendship on a strictly platonic but sexually tense level, so that J would never have had a chance to piss all over the memory of us like this.

I'm slowly starting to give in though. Not necessarily cos of anything J's recently done himself -- since he still finds ways to get upset at me -- but because of what's happened thereafter with my other friendships. I hadn't a clue that Iain cared THAT much about me, that he could be arsed to hear me like that. (But again, he's also one of the nicest and most cordial people I know, so I may not have been a special case.)

Jules is also being incredibly supportive, reassuring me that I deserve better. (Which I do!) We had one of the best nights in a really long time last night, as we spent the day shopping and at Matt Murphy's, just discussing everything under the sun. And one of our favourite topics was just how much we love Eman.

What I'm most grateful for out of all this is that I've never felt closer to Eman. If there's anyone in this world that can make you feel wanted and appreciated, it's him. I wondered whether it was a mix of alcohol, a convenient absence of anyone else to chat with, and a newfound empathy from having been in my position before that got us delving into the deepest of philosophical miscellany. Still, it may just be that I've always been so preoccupied with J that I'm only now allowing this friendship to flourish as it should. Imagine loving someone SO much -- without the slightest hint of sexual attraction to confound the relationship (though he's obv super hot) -- and desperately wanting to keep that smile on his/her face, and you might understand just the teeniest bit how much I adore that boy. It's almost a maternal emotion, with this fierce desire to protect him with all that it takes. I'm not quite sure what all these feelings are rooted in, but I can tell you that it's been magnified a million times over, after what transpired between J and me.

As for salvaging the memory of the relationship between J and me, I figure it's worth a shot. But what I fear most from doing this is realising that I'm still madly in love with him. Cos as it stands, I'm thinking back to all that talk about emotional vs. sexual jealousy and how, had he not fallen out of love with me and in whatever-he-calls-it with her, I would've taken him back in a second. Shitty, huh? Ms. B and Jules have already warned me against it, and Eman keeps reassuring me that I deserve better. But if I'm honest, I've never had better, and, at one point and for a long time, he had me on top of the world.

So why do I want to do this? To dredge up old, happy memories to torture myself some more? Well, two reasons: (1) Cos I have to live with him for the next 4 months and I'd prefer not to hate him, and (2) If he's truly sorry about what he did (which it still doesn't sound like at this point), then we, as friends, deserve another chance that requires me remembering that we did share some kind of bond before it all shattered. Here it goes:

1.) Reading HBP to each other in Botanic Garden. We laid on the grass (getting my new Primark shirt dirty!) and alternated reading to each other until we realised neither of us was paying attention to the other. Me giggling randomly what I realised that passersby probably thought J was reading to me cos I couldn't read English!

2.) That first night when we were actually together. I got off the bus and snogged him straightaway. I'm usually pretty PDA-resistant, but all I could think about was being in his arms again and having his lips on mine. You know those cringeworthy, melodramatic moments in the films when the two lovers run toward each other in slow-mo after a long separation? Yeah, it was like that. But real... and the most wonderful I"ve ever felt in my life.

And then I felt it again and again and again. We got to the stoop of Rugby Ave, and J couldn't keep his hands off me or his mouth off my skin. We ventured inside and finished what we'd started the week before. It's like having all your muscles and emotions in synergy with each other, but you're about to burst from frustration, because all you have are these lovely little movements to explain what your words can't even touch. I was in love, and I already knew it then.

Then we laid in bed basically for the rest of the night without a care in the world. I knew J was feeling what I was feeling -- J: "I hate when people throw the L-word around, but..." M: *smirks* "But what...?" -- but the actual words took til the next day to slip through my lips and cement the serendipitousness of us, coming together... like this.

3.) Meeting his family for the first time. Let's face it; I'm crap at making good first impressions, cos I'm always so self-conscious. But that time, in the hospital in Derry, the only thing I was concerned about was if J was ok. I'd have been damned if I let J see anything but hope inside the situation (see: making wishes on purposely plucked eyelashes and the owningest Dumbledore figurine ever), but J's strong and, in the end, didn't seem to need me much at all. I did my best, and I think his family recognised that (including his aunt Caroline who only adores me cos of the crafty ventriloquism J pulled). I remember seeing Bernie on the hospital bed and me adjusting her oxygen mask. J looked at me and pouted with his puppy dog eyes, frustrated at how utterly unfair it all was.

And then it was ok. The direness of the situation died down, and we went to Omagh to visit her again. I met Louise for the first time, and Bernie farted. A lot! Freddy, never to be outdone, joined in on the action, and I was relegated to stifling my laughing fits on J's shoulder.

Despite these tragic circumstances, we still had our bit of fun. Teaching J how to Su Doku, conversations in the canteen with Simy, and some (completely inappropriate) hospital hanky-panky to relieve the tension... It's always nice to stand by your man when he needs it most.

4.) Taking care of J when he was sick. All of a sudden, his immune system collapsed, and I got to play Ms. Nightingale again. I remember him asking me how many tablets to take -- trusting me with his health -- and him slurping the chicken soup as he was bedridden between the orange sheets. What sticks in my head most is when I tried to cook him a proper Ulster fry. He walked into the kitchen, and my attempt at making him happy reduced his vocabulary singularly to "Awww"s. All those times I felt unappreciated by Patrick -- well J could've shown him how it's done.

5.) Gasp! The realisation that I'm semi-smart. We were laying in bed one night talking, when J made a reference to something exploding. I referenced Vesuvius, and he cooed unexpectedly. I, baffled, lay there while he pulled me close and huggled me, impressed by my one-off Wikipedic moment. (See also my mention of Hearts being at the top of the league.)

6.) All those late and way-too-long conversations at the Chinese interweb cafe talking to J, including the token moment when he opted to embarrass me and showed his wang on webcam. So many nights when I had to be away, we spent together anyway. It was the kind of love where we couldn't bear to be apart any longer than we had to.

7.) One night on Castlefin Road. We stayed up way too late one night -- my last night in the Derg, I think -- and goofed a bit about. J cooked a midnight curry, and I, acting as the human trash compactor, slopped off the last bits. Talking at 2am when everyone else was asleep... It was so nice. We were in a silly little mood, and J giggled over and over at my super unscary face. We decided to take a shower in that wee stall of theirs. Cramped and uberclose, we had some golden moments, as J muffled his laugh when I tried again to contort my face into an expression of intimidation.

8.) Two souls entwined... The final day that I left Belfy, J and I lay in bed holding each other... silent. That is, until both of us randomly said "I wish..." at the exact same time. I don't even remember how each of us finished our sentences, but I do remember thinking, as we giggled together, that we were made for each other. Our relationship was insane, but we were in sync. That's why I rather approach this breakup with denial and false bravado than to let him know that I regret ever letting him get away. I should never have left.

9.) That video I made of him the last day I was there. The whole time I was with Patrick, he never bothered to learn a single word of Khmer. J mastered 4 phrases. As I captured a clip of J's silky sweet lilt, saying "Don't do that," "Stop," and "Oh crap, the frog leaps," I fell in love with him all over again. Which was unfortunate, given how I was leaving that day.

10.) Talking to Leigh that first time in the chat. I'm not usually that funny, but I drained the bank account that day from my reserves of wit. J did his :*) thing, actually proud of the impression I made. I surprised myself with how I could be so casual with someone I once viewed with such jealousy and enmity. Thank god I made my peace with her.

11.) The long bus ride to Omagh, when we chatted about the inconsequential and the philosophical. Have you ever felt so comfortable you felt like you could say anything to that person without fear of judgment? That's how we were. Fucking shit that I don't have that any more and that J won't bother to confide in me again.

12.) Scrabble. Only geriatrics find fun in rearranging lettered tiles, right? Not when you play with J and Iain. Along with Iain's ROFLcopter-y "Kabblah" verbal snafu, J induced loads of belly laughs with his invented vocabulary. I remember sitting there, watching him with his forehead muscles tense and his bottom lip pouting outward and never finding him cuter. He was always so adorable when he was concentrating hard.

13.) That lump-in-my-throat, knot-in-my-tummy kind of missingness. I tend to be the type of person who doesn't miss people much. But when I made th permanent move to Curzon and J wasn't there, I literally ached for him. Headed back from the Derg, as soon as he rounded the corner onto Curzon, I ran out the front door and pounced. Why I felt the need to attack him with kisses is beyond me. Ask the stupid little cupid that set this whole tragedy in motion.

At this end of this all, I'm finding that I only love him more than I should and hate him more than I would. We had our fair share of shittiness, but none of that could compare to the joy I felt when our hearts finally collided. He threw all of that way, cos he couldn't handle the distance. :( When he broke up with me, he said, "It's not about you." I know. The blame falls squarely on your shoulders, J.

And now, I see Niamh's and his relationship headed for the same trajectory. For her sake, I hope it turns out all right. Even as karma conspired with our crappy pasts to kick me right in the bum, I still remember what Eman said the night before I left: "I've never seen him as happy as he is when he's with you." Bah. Fuck it all again.

To be continued... maybe. :(

Revelations

I guess all I really needed was Eman's evasion to confirm that J really has moved on. Some hope lingered -- if only from a desire to reel him back in and quickly toss him back in the sea -- but there is very little that keeps me wanting to be with J again.

A proper update is due to the one reader whose attention I have. Ha... and that one reader is the future me, who'll reflect back on all this and wonder, Why in the world did I give such a crap? Making mountains out of molehills is my specialty, you see. :D

Well, here's what's been up since the last time I so graciously made my acquaintance with Blogspot. I took the following week after J broke up with me to heal proper. Didn't speak to him, save for a short email exchange he initiated to see how I was. I thought he was being cordial or at least missing me -- but the email was inspired by guilt, as it turns out. Saturday, when I thought I was pretty over him already and wanted to triple check whether it was ok for me to live at Curzon with them, I found out that he had already moved on with Niamh. After I raged at him for not properly respecting me and the memory of our relationshipo, I found out that he'd actually cheated on me with her -- consequently confirming my insecurities.

I never had a chance. She's cute. She gets his jokes. And best of all, she's only a 3-hr bus ride away, which is what he needs anyway. I flipped, of course, quickly realising that this is what karma had in store for me all along. Poor Patrick... I finally know what he feels like. I shirley didn't deserve this from J -- the biggest of hypocrites, as I see it now -- but life was ready to deliver me one swift kick in the arse for what I did before.

Thankfully, however, there were loads of redeeming moments amidst all this emotional trauma. Realising that there's no way Jules could understand this utter torment, I, dontchaknowit, go to a guy who's never had a proper relationship either. I would've turned to Eman for comfort, but he was completely unintelligible to me earlier -- through no fault of his own, the big ho bag! -- so I went to Iain instead. He didn't have many bits of wisdom to share -- except that our relationship was fucked up from the beginning -- but the act of him listening meant more to me than he can eve rknow. He, who has a super loyal-friend complex, relented that J was in the wrong. He listened to me vent and whine and moan and sob for a good 40 minutes or more with hardly a second thought. Knowing that I'm coming out of this with our friendship intact, even stronger actually, eased a bit of the pain. He kept saying he really wanted to give me a hug, but his voice and his rejection of J's betrayal was just the kind of comfort I needed then.

After calling Jules and leaving Kali a desperate message, I opted to drink the pain away. Against my best logical defences, I quickly gulped down 8 or so shots of Smirnoff. Not the best idea, but it achieved what I desired -- a magnification of my emotions that quickly led to catharsis. After I chucked much of it back up, most of my resentment was purged along with it. I settled down and fell asleep -- though not before alienating Eman on MSN with my drunken babbles and inadvertent threats of self-harm. But he stood by me and consoled me and assured me that everything would be ok. Trite from everyone else -- but an absolute relief from Eman, whose words I take as truth. Redeeming moment #2, that was.

Jonny also took care of me, and, despite what they all say about him, I still think he's sound. What obligation does a boy who has never met me have towards me? None, and that is why I appreciated that bit extra from him.

When I woke up 3 hours later, sobered up but still a bit ill in the tummy, I felt about a thousand times better. Hurt doesn't describe the emotion I was feeling -- I got rid of that by yelling at J and sweeping it aside with the vodka. It was annoyance. The overwhelming emotion was a mild disgust at J -- someone who I used to think I could spend the rest of my life with, who I would NEVER imagine cheating -- and his impatience. I'm sure we could've worked it out if he had given himself and us the chance. But this new revelation keeps bringing more to me to clarify my perspective. The blinders are off -- I'm not all too aware of the jerk J can be.

First of all, he's nto in the least bit mature. Sure, he's learned to take things with a grain of salt like only those wizened by age have learned to do, but I'm realising more and more that we were never on the same plane. I've graduated uni and I'm dawdling, so I have little right to preach. But I look at J, a guy with SO much talent and promise, going idle, and I'm totally disappointed. I contrast him with Eman, and my opinion only gets worse. It's not out of anger from the breakup but anger from seeing him waste all the energy that everyone and he has put into him to get where he is, to who he is now. It's an utter, utter shame.

The worst is knowing that, to him, I wasn't worth the wait. I gave everything to that guy, and he threw it all away in one night. It's easy to fall into a trap of hating yourself and pitying yourself, but if I'm to come out of this a better person, I also have to learn to not internalise it all. Which, obviously, given this whole written blame game, is not a problem for me at the moment.

So it really was a clash of personalities. I never expected me to be just made for another person. What I would treasure more is the person's willingness to compromise to make me happy. He was, once in a while, but when it came right down to it, he didn't have the strength of will that I need in a partner. I'm worth it, guys. Just fucking wait. No patience and little maturity. At least I didn't prolong the torture.

I also think he wants to find reasons to be pissed off at me still. Makes him feel better when he's the one that's not rightly despised. I talked to Niamh a few days after, never once yelling at her, and he got pissed. He obviously doesn't know the type of person I am. I really really hope he doesn't fuck Niamh in the head like he has with other girls. Winding them up at the beginning, in true whirlwind romance-form, and then settling into his comfort zone where the girls end up dying for and acting out for that continued attention.

I'm slaggin him hardcore here, but to be honest, I must not care THAT much if I'm still talking to him. Yeah, still, and soon after that magical revelation. Why? Cos I has some amazing few days straight after. I've got to say J has great timing with his heart-breaking. The next morning, I woke up wicked early to get my bracelet for the U2 GA line. After freezing my toes off and befriending some Simmons girls, I headed home where my creativity and industry just took off. I quickly charcoaled up a funny ass poster of Bono and Edge kissing that I was really proud of. A reminder that anything that comes at me from the outside can't change all the things that I have to offer on the inside. I have this massive well of energy and excitement that rises up to the surface lots of the time and needs only a spark of initiative to light that fire in me. And boy, was i happy and proud of myself. The poster rocked it hardcore, and I'm glad I made it, though it was not well received.

And karma had at me again, as the 8-ball proved correct. After my slate was cleared cos of this extreme role reversal, I was free to accumulate goodness again and collect it at the most opportune time. Yeah, Jules and I got into the ellipse a THIRD time in Boston. 75%? Well, hell, aren't we some of the luckiest fans ever? :D A brilliant concert -- with THREE encores. Just absolutely insane, the energy rife in the ellipse. Nearly knocked my eardrums out tbh.

The next day, we went to the Ritz and got a prime stalking spot along the velvet rope. Not only did Edge come out and sign Jules' vinyl, which is still lamenting the lack of the final autograph to complete the set, but I got Adam to stare straight into my fake green eyes for 3 long rock-star seconds, and I pat Bono several times on his back. Then it all made sense -- there's SO much more ot life than J. Thank God for U2 for proving that to me (yet again). I think now that the best mate that I could ever hope for -- and in the end, will probably NEED -- is another obsessive U2 fan that just gets me, who's not afraid to communicate about anything and everything. Yeah -- THAT's when I'll know I'm meant to be with someone. I'll forget what I see in those tearjerking, diabetic-seizure-inducing romantic comediies, and find my own way to make my lovey-dovey dreams come true.

On a related side note, I got Andy Carr 3 autographs, and now I've got his loyalty. It's sweet that it took me nothing to make him so happy. It's even sweeter to know that I have that ability, and I'm putting it to good use. I rock so hard sometimes. :D Mr. Perella also loved his prezzie from Bono!

On Wednesday, when I thought they might still be around, I walked by the Ritz, said screw it cos of the cold, and shopped in Chinatown instead. Scored the best deal for a short Chinadoll dress for $17, and I look so good in it (after a bit of mending from XXL to make it an XXXL for me, of course :|).

A bit of backtracking is due, cos on Tuesday, I visited the school in the uppiest of moods. I boasted to Szymanski, showed off my new hotness to Perella, and bonded yet again with Barile. I was UNBELIEVABLY happy. But then it all went downhill.

I clean forgot about Jules' bday. I forgot about wishing her it in all the excitement from the previous day. But given that, I never meant to ruin her special day. But I"m not one who can just let things slide so easily (I aspire to Eman's example), and I, against my best intentions, still let it ruin her birthday. I'm a bad friend, I know. I didn't have a card; I didn't have anything to give her, but an undercurrent of resentment she really didn't need that day.

We had a long discussion about it all last night, with Achtung (minus Zoo Station and EBTTRT, natch) on repeat. It denigrated into her being the 'bad friend,' when I'm so obviously the bad friend. I know it's not her fault that she can't talk back about certain things. Why is it not ok for me not to expect her to anymore? I know better now than to go to her with certain kinds of problems -- it's how I am with all my friends. It sounds a bit crap when I say this, but the people in my life tend to fill some kind of niche for me. Jules straddles the lines for lots of niches, but she can never hope to fill all those holes up for me. Neither can anyone else. I have a zillion different facets of myself, and I switch them on and off as I please. Who can hope to appease the recluse I am on Sunday AND the social butterfly I may be on Saturday all the time? No one. Instead of facing such a reality and accepting it, she takes it as an insult.

She thinks I'm subconsciously pushing her away so I miss her less in Ireland, but I'm not the missing-type person, when I have several people filling these niches. How horrible does that make me sound? I don't miss people? Please. Heartless bitch, I must be. True, ain't no one ever gonna be able to match her and my stalking-U2 bond, but I'm the kind of person that's fine with being mostly self-sufficient. I've learned to distance people away to protect myself from the neediness but now no one wants to get within arm's length and see that, by what I must be conveying, that they're dispensable. It's a damn shame that I'm this way and that I have any power to make people feel any less than they are. It'll still never change the fact that I need her in my life. She's my rock, and despite all the bumps and bruising along the way, my life is a zillion times better with her in it.

At the same time, we were discussing our friendship, Eman solidified ours with a long overdue heart-to-heart about relationships in general. Besides confirming that I need to move on (cos J obviously has) and assuring me that I will have so many opportunities to do so (cos the wee man thinks I'm super hot, hehe), he proved to me that no matter what, he'll always be there for me. He's never wronged me once, and he is THE soundest person I've ever known. My hero, really.

Now what lies ahead? Well my trip to Belfy via BHX is confirmed, so that's a foregone conclusion. With 19 days before I'm back in NI again, I need to scramble hardcore to get everything done. And I desperately need to make up for shitting all over Jules' bday. That'll be easy enough, but the hardest part will be moving on ENOUGH that I won't be irked as hell to see Niamh and J together. I've made my peace with Niamh. The biggest challenge will be letting go of the good memories of J and reaffirming that we were never meant to be together. Ever.