I remember England. I remember the green hills that made you feel like the world was flat and that there was no more beyond the peaks. The narrow twisty roads that looked like a two year old designed them. The stone buildings and the high fashion. How children ran around the super market because it was safe enough to do so, not to mention people never watched where they were pushing their carts - ahem - trolleys, so you were constantly dodging them for the sake of living to see another day. The wind. The rain. The clouds. How a high sixties day was considered nice. No.

I was not an English girl. I was most definitely an American girl.

I loved wide open roads and eighty degree days. Canoeing and tubing. I loved being able to drive everywhere and seeing the sun everyday. Alex said if I moved there I'd be a commodity. People would love to hire me because I'd be different. I would be good for business. But from my experience no one can understand me when I talk.

Me in Subway: "Pickles."
Guy making sandwich: "What? Onions?"
Me: "No, pickles."
Guy: "Cucumber?"
Me: "Yes, because that's exactly what pickles sounds like."
Guy: "Okay,"
Me: "I will murder you in your sleep."
Guy: "Huh?"

I suppose that could be a plus.

But now I find myself at a crossroads. I'm heart broken. Heart broken because I feel for an American man. So I lost more than England, I lost Alex. He gave me another chance, but I refused to leave Frank. And why would I? I'm tired of being alone for months at a time. Frank hasn't done anything terribly wrong yet. Besides chaining me down saying I can't get my motorcycle license or another tattoo. A part of me thinks that's just what I need. Someone to tell me no. But at the same time that makes me feel like I'm trapped and am being punished for no reason. When really Frank loves me and doesn't want me to get killed by a driver ("It's not you, its the other drivers"). And tattoos are addictive and I don't want to go crazy with them, but I've been researching this one for about a year now and I'd really like it. It's text and it would go on the inside of my arm. It's a curse that was inscribed in a pharaohs tomb.

"As for all men who shall enter this my tomb...impure...there will be swift judgement...an end will be made for him...I shall seize his neck like a bird...I shall cast the fear of myself into him."

Lots of double meanings in there too.

But that tattoo is an attempt to distract myself from what's really bothering me. What caused me to have a proper emotional break down. Cut my hair, looking for a drastic change. A motorcycle license to enhance my edginess. Anything to potentially cause self destruction. I've taken an offensive role in hockey and have gotten some requests to join roller derby teams. I'm a tough girl. The only thing that can kick my ass is the emotions from that man. Alex. The man bringing me to my knees and he's not even talking to me anymore. I refuse to take our picture off the entertainment center. And no one has asked me too. I'll take it down when I'm ready. If that day ever comes.

What have I done? I knew what I was doing when I did it. What about our travel tree? How devoted that man was. How loyal and faithful, and all he ever wanted to do was care for me and make my dreams come true. And breakfast in bed (the fastest way to ruin my morning).

I still speak to his Mum on facebook. Trying my best to figure things out and keep in touch. I emailed his work email and he didn't even respond to that. But I knew that wouldn't conjure any results. I've shattered him. And now I'm shattering myself. I'm a shell of who and what I used to be. A broken spirit. I feel dead already. I've thought of suicide. A thought I haven't had since Taylor and I broke up. Not killing myself, but what if I did die? What would I be missing out on? Nothing. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to anymore. Even with Frank, which will probably end up in heart break or divorce someday.

There's no such thing as soul mates. But merely someone who can make us happy. At least for the time being.