In my veins

Inspired by the wonderful song written by Andrew Belle, and all the other beautiful songs out there written about lost love...

This is not a love story with a happy ending.

How many times have I written that sentence for fictional characters; not knowing I'd have to write this story about myself?


I hate that word. I scrawl the word HATE in bold black letters. Love is great at first, you find someone you treasure, the one you spend so much time with. But now – it's an ugly wound in your heart – someone stabbing you repeatedly again and again.

I miss him. I whisper his name softly.

Please come back. Don't go. You love me too right?

He's gone.

Tears roll down my cheeks as I choke, sobbing quietly. What is wrong with me? I smile bitterly as I remember the good old Skins quote: "nothing good ever stays with me".

One and a half fucking months.


No more hugs and kisses. No more of us cuddling together on sofas, on his bed, on my bed. No more foreplay – the fingering, the jobs – no more. We had never needed sex – I was ready to lose my virginity to him in the end. I wanted that, to lose it to the guy I love the most in the world.

There would be no more PDA – his friends and ours shouting "Get a room! Move out of the way lovebirds!"

And he'd simply reply with a finger plainly saying he loves me.

"Tweet fucking tweet." He used to say, and I'd grin and laugh – while he'd kiss me softly.

Oh god, no more of those rude interruptions, where he'd kiss me while I was trying to sleep. No more of that teasing – poking and tickling.

Even now, I can clearly see his love bites shining on my neck. I hated it when he did that – not wanting our affection to be too obvious. Now, I treasure every love bite – despising the fact they would fade eventually and never be replaced.

Oh fuck the pain!

I always hated swearing – but he swears like a trooper.

I miss you.

Before him, I had always hated pet names – thinking they were stupid. But for him, I'd always been 'baby' or 'babe' – I wish I could hear those words spoken from his lips to me again.

Oh his teasing phrases - "Can't take you anywhere" "Special Child" - I want those phrases back.

I want him back. I want my boyfriend back, not just a friend.

The thought of him fucking some girl makes me cry even harder. Why would this happen to me? I love him.

I stare blankly at the wall, feeling the tears roll faster.


We had them everyday for a month.

But we soon stopped, they became more infrequent – but he didn't want us anymore. He'd made that clear – there is no us anymore.

Come back.

Kiss me.

Tell me you love me.

No more. It's over.