Naomi:

Emily left. Early. I don't think she saw me, huddling in the corner, tears drying on my face. Clutching the vodka to my chest – because she'd touched it. Pathetic really.

I think I'm ill. Ever since she left, the room has felt cold.

I've been sitting here for hours, watching the numbers on the screen of my phone, changing.

I woke up at 4:05

I called him at 4:15

She left at 4:37

Its 6:21 now.

My head is spinning; like a thousand and one ideas exploding together at once. But I don't feel anything, nothing in comparison to what she made me feel.

Could I forgive myself if I admitted that now she's gone I miss her already?

Fucks Sake Naomi. Sort it out. She's a girl.

But I can't move. I'm paralysed to the spot. Stuck in this limbo between right and wrong. To feel or not to feel? To pretend or accept? Or what it really came down to…

Love or Hate?

Love? Is that what it comes down to. It can't be. I don't know her.

I'm not a lover. I don't do emotion. It's a sign of weakness. I am not weak, I never have been. Never will be. No matter what she does to me.

Then why when I say love, do I only see red?

I only arrived yesterday. What had she done to me?

All I want to do is move on, forget and regret. Regret is easier to handle. Send it to the back of your mind, where it can sing its fucking song in silence. Forgive, accept. Christ, that's a challenge I don't want to face.

I light the spliff from last night. Fucks sake, even Weed reminds me of her. I feel like burning everything I own, for fear it might remind me of what I did.

What I've done.

She's on the same course as me, I can't avoid her forever. I mean, for Christ sake, she would've been the only friend you'd make.

Apart from fucking cook – whose text was illuminated on my fucking screen:

Arittttttteeeeee blondieee, its fucking messy doawwwnnn here, cum get my cock babeesss

Yum.

Though, on second thoughts, maybe Cook would be the answer. I mean, he's a guy, he wants me. I could want him.

Easily.

Christ. Even when thinking about Cook she's in my fucking head.

I don't know what I'm going to do. Fucking Freddie needs to hurry up….

Sometimes I'm gald I've got him.

I'm slowly uncoiling from my shell, fucking cramp. Its actually quite warm by this window, it could become my new favourite place to sit and think.

Thinking.

Emily.

Fucks Sake.

Its been 3 hours and I'v reached no fucking conclusions. I've got no ideas what to do. I didn't come to Uni for my life to turn into angsty shite.

Fucking Freddie. I need him. I hate to say it, but I do.

Thinking about it, I probably stink. I mean, I drank my body weight in vodka, so that's paint stripper seeping out of my pores. Combined with the rotting smell of lasts night weed and well, what Emily made me feel, I can't be a pretty sight this morning. Not that Freddie would care. Christ, he's always there.

Speak of the devil, well Fuck it. He can wait.

I need to shower.

Review, etc. I'm back, another update later, probably. Love to all, hope you're well! xxx