Procrastination

Mostly because it's tricky to type while I'm having a nice little cry, so my bad for typos that may occur, I'll spell check it before I post but it doesn't do grammar so ya know.
I'm clearly in a self-depreciating mood, because I have chosen to play Little Lion Man and read through all the emails Harry has sent me.
Hence the crying.
I honestly thought I was done with the crying.
It's not because I miss the relationship, or because I want him back or anything.
It's just miserable reading what he says and knowing I can't help him.
Because I don't know how much of this he is telling anyone else.
And it's pretty serious in some bits.
And he should be telling other people, because I cannot help him.
He was one of my best mates for so fucking long, and I can do sod all to help him and that feels so, so awful.
Thing is, I could cope with all the hideous mood swings while we were together because he was my boyfriend and so it was okay.
I can't now.
I can't text him and ask him how his day went and have a barrage of swears thrown back at me.  I barely coped with that when we were going out, let alone now.
I've got back as far as September with the emails, and I have decided to stop.
I honestly would quite like him back as a friend, and he would like me back as a friend, but I don't think we can be until he has sorted himself out, which he has indirectly agreed with.
I kind of miss his cuddles, actually.
They were pretty awesome.
I'd like to think I'm not fucked up in the head, and I'm just hormonal, but I think I'm just letting some shit out that I've bottled up for a while.
I think I've decided in my head that actually, I am more than happy to move on and be with someone else and not feel guilty about it, I am just still somewhat upset by the destruction of the last relationship.
I really have no idea about whether or not this is a bad thing.  All of the rules I had in my head about getting over people and starting new relationships have just been thrown out of the window in the last few months because I decided to sod being sensible and do what I wanted exactly at that moment.
Mostly because of something I found on Bebo when I was thirteen, but that's beside the point.
It is now, ofc, cheesy, but when I was thirteen it was a revelation.
I have no idea what I want anymore.
The last time I had no idea what I wanted, I blogged to work it out, but that was before people actually read my blog at all, and especially not the people it would end up being about.
Truth?
I miss Harry, but not enough to go back into a relationship with him.
I would very much like to continue on whatever road I have put myself on with, ahem, "Adam" because it's making me happy.
And frankly, isn't that the whole point?
Not just in a small way, but I would assume that being happy and actually enjoying yourself is the whole fucking point in life.
Which is why I do things like paint my toenails all different colours, and bake.
Fuck this shit, I'll do whatever I damn well please.
Which right now means soup.