A Head Full of Beauty

See Part One here . I sit down at my desk first thing on Wednesday morning to find an email waiting for me from Aiden, the City Lawyer. I read it hurridly and smiled. "Aw, so sweet...he's so sweet." This is the standard reaction I seem to have from every message he sends me. He's incredibly thoughtful and sincere, a textbook nice guy. He had no reason to email me and I wasn't expecting to hear from him until he was back in the UK at the end of the month. His unsolicited email indicated that he'd been thinking about me. His emails were getting more personal, he was talking about emotions, things he likes, experiences and dreams... With every email he sent I began to recoil from him further. Of course in my replies I gave him just as much back, but I couldn't help thinking that he was giving too much to start with and being too keen. I would never have sent him emails like that - and I'm queen of keen. The final nail in the coffin came with: "I'...

I'm on the train home and the woman opposite me is eating a homemade sandwich from white bread. My face is scrunched up in disgust and I keep giving her snide glances as if she were a filthy person dirtying a spotless carriage. I can't help it. I'm a nasty person. I think she's disgusting and I don't mind letting her know that. I'm so tense and angry that I want to stand up and smash my blackberry on the floor. I hate her because I can't eat a sandwich from white bread but I can still taste it and smell it so potently... oh so potently... I'm a bitch at work too, I ignore people, I wish I could be the kind of person that smiles and is cheerful and lovely to everyone. I'm not. I'm so wrapped up in my own little world, so self-conscious, so tense, so focused on the fabulous act I have to put on for the next 'person who matters'. If you don't matter, I don't care what you think of me, so you don't exist to me. I haven't got t...