You Mustn't Give Your Heart To A Wild Thing

London...the city of promise and opportunity. Well that's what I thought anyway when I decided to make the biggest, most risky decision of my life so far (a very eventful 25 years I must say) and move here. I was looking for a change of pace....what I wasn't expecting was more fun, love, trouble and strife in the space of 5 months, than I ever experienced in my rather cosy little past life in Somerset. So this was the right decision? Ask me again in another 5 months.

The story goes that a little while ago I met Mr Perfect who, for the purpose of this exercise, we shall name Gally. I won't take up too much of my blogging space drooling over his unchartered sex appeal and confidence, or talk for too long about all the little quirks we had in common and how we crossed the Rubicon from 'just friends' to 'lovers' in a matter of perfect fun filled weeks. We were the Fred and Holly of modern-day London and every moment I spent with Gally took me right back to those 'Disney' moments all little girls dream of. Enough said!

But like all good things, it seems....it came to a rather abrupt, uncontrollable and unfathomable end. There were no problems or arguments, which is often the most tormenting factor. Just an awkward conversation that set that little spark up and running in Gally's brain, paralysing him in the scary present. I knew he had relationship issues, I just never thought he would a) hurt me and b) seemingly make a decision to cut me out of his life altogether without so much as a reasonable explanation.

And to think I lent him my very best hand cream and treated him to a slice of some of the best cheesecake in the world! Well I'll never see that again!

The timing also could not have been more perfect given that it was both on my week off and a mere twelve hours before I was due to attend a second interview for a job I reeeaaalllly wanted. The last I saw of Gally was a sloppy kiss on the cheek and a half-hearted 'Good Luck' to send me on my way as I slumped off towards the Northern Line. Cut to days spent in pyjamas trying not to correlate '500 Days of Summer' with my own life and even having to be dragged to a gig I had so been looking forward to for months.

The trouble is when you don't have answers you tend to sit and try and make them up yourself, well I do anyway;I have deliciously neurotic tendencies. Having considered anything from blatant homosexual preferences to the mysteries of Divine Timing to blaming myself for....nothing, here we are nearly two weeks later and I am still no nearer to knowing what exactly went wrong or where we go from here. For the record, I got the job...thank God I'm a good actress!

So what's a girl to do? Sit by her phone and wait for the call to end all calls? Cajole the man into facing his feelings? I may potentially have lost a lover and a very good friend all in the space of two weeks but something happened today. My dignity and pride re-surfaced, all in tact and telling me to go forth.... and cause a little chaos.

I had a very productive morning, I made a list of goals that had somewhat fallen by the way side in my haze of Gally-less depression, laughed a little at some Youtube interviews, read my Angel cards one last time before metaphorically casting off the emotional shackles of my short-lived relationship and dug out the world's most enviably inspirational book... 'I'm With The Band' by Pamela Des Barres! And after hanging on every word the genius Miss Pamela writes, I know there are bigger and better things out there to conquer. My head feels clearer, focused. I can feel the dull thud of my heart Rock and Rolling back to life and I am screaming to start chasing my dreams again.

I guess the only way to get over giving my heart to a wild thing...is to become a wild thing myself. So long Gally...... I think the world of you, but I just can't tear myself apart anymore...