• "Cause I'm walking down this road alone and it figures all I'm thinking about is you...Is you, my love. My head is in a cloud of rain and the world it seems so far away. And I'm just waiting for the droplets, the droplets."

  Wow. So, life without a best friend's really difficult. I've heard what she's been saying about me from Nonie, Maria, Ed, Emma, Amelia, Rachel and Annie. Seven people at least that she's felt the need to bitch & moan about me to. I mean, I understand if she needs to vent some frustration - that's what all teenage girls seem to do - but fucking hell, there are a lot of less destructive methods that I can think about.

  So for 9 months she's dead set against the fact that I've a boyfriend. Only negative things to say to me when I'm at my happiest. Suddenly along comes Julian; two weeks later she's seeing him almost every day and making us all uncomfortable with her inappropriate PDAs. She's complained about that as well - the fact that I want to spend time with Xavi when we're at parties. The times when people care the least about what other people are doing.

  She told Julian the ONE thing I've told her in confidence in the last - what, 3 years? It wasn't even my own secret to keep. I know that ultimatey I am to blame, but really...The number of secrets I've kept for her in the past year, I thought I could at least trust her to care enough not to mention it to other people.

  Shit, this isn't sorting itself out fast enough.

  I saw Xavi for 40 effing minutes today - that's my quota for the next 7 days. We sat in the Close in the dark, facing the Cathedral, talking about jazzing up G chords and almost kissing Izzy (yeah, that was me this week...long, funny story). He rolled up his jumper sleeves to make his biceps look more impressive and I laughed at how squidgy it made him look. When his mum decided he had to catch the next bus in 15 minutes we sat in silence and tried to get enough of each other to last us the rest of the week. I miss him so much it's silly sometimes, and I can't articulate the horrible feeling I get sometimes at home, and I think about how much nicer it'd be if he was curled up next to me, and there's a horrible swelling in my throat that won't go away until he's told me he loves me or I manage to think about something in the past that's made me happy. It's only a temporary feeling.

   The maths calculator paper went well. I spent the whole 2 hours working. Nonie was in the row next to me and she looked upset. Emma's over the freaky 35-year-old man and is back to her usual dopey self. We spent the entire DT lesson today reading Cyanide & Happiness webcomics with Lolz reading them out loud in an Irish accent.

  Life's good when I think about the good points. I've just a week to get through and I'll try to ease the difficulty by concentrating on exams and coursework and figuring out how to get all my friendships back on track again. I need to go to bed. (I love you so much (: xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx)

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