The One With The Hit And Run

I was too happy wasnt I? I'd finally moved back to Barcelona, got a gorgeous flat near the beach, met the most amazing guy who for once doesnt treat me like shit and then what happens? I get hit by a car.

I went out on Tuesday night with one of my girlfriends. It started off with an intercambio drinks thing in town where people meet up to pratice their Spanish and English. This was the first time we were going and I was VERY excited. Afterwards we went back to mine for dinner and then headed out to my favourite bar for a drink or two. At 2am we decided to leave and go our separate ways. As we said goodbye and I went to cross the busy road, I saw a bright light coming towards me and then bang!

I was on the floor.

I got up. Only a month earlier I had been knocked off my bike in London. I was fine, I told myself. I was more embarassed about the fact that I had been hit by a car rather than the fact that I couldnt feel the left side of my body. A crowd surrounded me, I couldnt speak. As I sat there with my head in my hands, I realised that I could of just died. Panicking I tried to think of who to call....and thats when it hit me. No one. Im all alone in this town. Bambi's in Ibiza, I dont talk to The Womanizer or any of his friends anymore and Ive decided to cut Tiger out of my life. I called The Russian, crying down the phone, I told him I'd just been hit by a car.

Shocked, he said he would be there ASAP, he was on the other side of town where he had just moved to and I knew he had a busy week ahead of him. As I sat there, surrounded by a group of Catalan people looking after me, I felt an sudden urge of homesickness coming on. I didnt understand a word anyone was saying, a man sitting next to me kept freaking out and wanted me to go somewhere with him. I thought it might of been the driver but later got told he had already driven off after he had hit me. As the police and ambulance turned up, I spotted The Russian walking towards us. The look of shock on his face said it all, I had cuts all over my arms and face and I was bleeding everywhere.

As they wheeled me off into the ambulance, I saw him telling me to answer my phone. Within seconds he was calling asking where they were taking me so they could follow. It was now just past half 2 and he looked shattered. I told him to go home, I was gonna be a while, I needed x rays done on my jaw and leg. I needed to be cleaned up and as he argued his case, I realised how unbelievably amazing he really was. This was a man I had only met a mere week ago, a man that I had only really spent 2 days with before the accident and yet here he was trying to look after me. Any of my ex's would of run half a mile in the opposite direction. The irony of it all was that The Russian would always cross the street making sure he was in the direction of the oncoming traffic with one arm on my back and the other holding my hand.

As I sat in the hospital wondering my fate, he texted me every half an hour to see if there was any progress, eventually he fell asleep and when I left I texted him what had happened. At half 6, I hopped out the hospital with a broken meta tarsal in my left ankle, damaged tendons and cuts and bruises.

Yesterday was spent at home, pretending to work but getting bored by the lack of freedom. Watching back to back DVDs and bitching about the fact that I couldnt eat because of my locked jaw. My desire for food has gone out the window and for the first time in 5 years I smoked weed hoping it would make me feel hungry.

Unfortunately I now have a job where if I dont come in, the whole place falls apart. This morning I had to come in, not only because Im needed but also because I need to pay the rent at the end of the month. I cant walk properly, I can barely walk and I came in stoned and have continued to smoke at my desk.

Im drugged up on a mixture of meds, making sure I dont have some freak OD and earlier in the day I was thinking about topping myself off. I finish work in 10 minutes and Im hoping tomorrow isnt that bad.

Whereever the bastard is that hit me and ran, I hope hes burning in hell.

Alex The Cocaine Dealer Pt 2

Alex and the boys had a long history of trouble. The boys had gone into his offices and destroyed the place and in response, Alex had sent the local mafia to break The Womanizers legs. Time had passed and the boys had put all this business behind them...that was all until all hell broke loose when I attacked Alex.

By the time I got out of the bath, The Womanizer and Bambi were in the bedroom, sat on the bed talking. The smile on her face told me things were good and I shouldnt worry about my future with him. After I changed, I walked into the living room to find more people had arrived with more drugs and more drink. The party was well and truly under way and at half 8 in the morning, where most people were on their way to work, this lot were only just getting started.

The thing with drug taking is, when you stopped and take yourself out of the zone, no matter how long for, whether its 5 minutes or 5 hours, we dont want to get back into it when you see the way everyone else is behaving. Instead of sitting down with the rest of them, I went back into the bedroom and asked if I could get into bed while Bambi and TW chilled out. Within 5 minutes, Alex had walked in and got into bed with me. I sat in silence while the other two looked over and TW asked me if I was okay. Replying I was tired and needed to sleep, I asked Alex if he minded leaving so I could sleep. He wouldnt listen to neither my pleeds or TW's so when he pushed himself on me, I flipped.

Having grown up with an abusive step-dad I wasnt scared of being attacked by a man and knowing that TW was only inches away gave me the strength and stupidity to tell Alex to fuck off before I bitch slapped him. Within seconds, he flipped and started screaming he wanted money for his drugs. Back at the house I hadnt done anything and so I walked off into the living room where the rest of the boys were. Alex came following me in and grab me by the neck and pushed me up against the wall, telling me he would kill me unless I gave him €50.

BBH intervined and pushed Alex aside while Swedish Boy handed him over his last €50 which he was meant to use to get to the airport. Shaken by what had just happened, I walked back into the bedroom, half fuming, half teary. Not wanting them to see how upset I was, I sat on the bed with my back to the door. Bambi made the mistake of walking out into the living room and got caught in the middle. Alex threatened to kill her and she broke down. Furniture was thrown around and BBH gave Alex his €3,000 jacket and told him to fuck off and leave.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, The Womanizer tried to persuad me into bed but I wasnt having any of it. Bambi and Swedish Boy left to go home so he could pack his stuff and I sat down with The Womanizer and wondered what I was doing with him.

Nor Here Nor There

I moved to Barcelona last wednesday. Did you know that? It was possibly one of the most difficult decisions I have made in my life, possibly more difficult than deciding to move here in the first place. You see, I moved to Barcelona last June. I met The Womanizer, I drank too much, partied too much, did way too many drugs and the only way to get away from him and all the madness was to move back to London. Did it work? Did it fuck.

After promising my family I wouldnt ever move back here, I left without saying goodbye and jumped on the plane. I havent spoke to my parents since. The truth is, when you immigrate from your own country and move to somewhere where the cultural shock is completely opposite to where you grew up, its very hard to go back to what you knew.

After spending 10 months in Spain where time is no concept and you can get hamburgers and beer at half 6 in the morning on the way to work, to moving to London where you have to be in a restaurant by half 9 to get a meal was a major shocker. All my friends had stayed in the same little circle, going to the shitty local clubs, falling out of cabs and into arms of strangers. Whereas as I had seen more to the world, saw countless sunrises on the Med, met stunningly gorgeous men, partied til I couldnt take anymore, explored Gaudi, ate Paella with the locals and made a complete nuisance of myself.

The reality of it was, I outgrew where I came from. I made mistakes, I fell for the wrong guy, I made myself ill by doing too many drugs, I made friends, I lost friends, I starved, I cried, I laughed but most of all, I lived. The six or so months I was in London, I wasnt living. I was exisitng. I was trying to pretend to be something and someone I wasnt and it drove me insane.

For the first time this year, I am free from any man in my life, free to any judgements made by family members and it feels fantastic. I´ve always thought of London as home. I am and always will be a proud Londoner, born and breed but when I stepped off that plane late last Wednesday night, I realised for now, Barcelona is more home than anywhere else.

Until my next post, hasta pronto!

STOP PRESS*** August only means one thing...my birthday is around the corner. Next Saturdays post will be a personal inside to moi (of course!) so you can ask me anything you wish. Remember, thats only another 8 days to go. You can either leave your question(s) - there are no limits in the comments below or email me at missmiadickinsonATgmailDOTcom.

We can make this work

When The Spartan answered the phone, Mia melted. All the memories of their love affair had come rushing back to her. She pretended she had seen him out recently and told him she didn't want to come over in case he was with Recurring Problem. He told her that they weren't together and that what happened between the three of them had ruined whatever might of happened. Mia told him about Vain Man cheating on her and held back the tears. He asked her where she was living and she replied that she was back at her parents, down the road from his. They planned to meet up in a few hours and see each other. Mia was nervous and spent the next few hours confused as to what she was doing. She needed a distraction from VM but she also knew that she really liked TS and couldn't fuck things up again.

When they met up at The Spot, the place that was exactly equal distances from each other's houses, they held each other and kissed passionately. Hands everywhere, they hardly stopped for air. As they walked to his house, Mia remembered all the things she had liked about him, his smells, his strong arms, his intellect. Eventually when they got inside, they jumped on each other and explored their hungry bodies. Whereas Vain Man rushed everything and was more about the act rather than the foreplay, The Spartan took his time and controlled the situation. Not knowing how she would feel about sleeping with another man so soon after walking out on her husband, she pushed her fears aside and let go.

When the moment came to it, they realised that they had the same problem. Although they were now able to do it, it caused too many issues and The Spartan complained that he was in pain. The angles and movements meant that there were too many positions they couldn't do. As they spooned afterwards, they spoke for the first time about what was going wrong with them. They decided to give it another go and decided with the right amount of time and care, it would be fine. For two months they tried until one day, The Spartan hurt Mia so much that she had to have stitches.

Then one night, Disappointed Dad threatened to kill Mia once again and she lost the plot and called the police. She had him arrested and her whole family turned against her. Within the space of an hour, she was homeless with no where to go. Not able to go to any of her family or seek any help from Vain Man, she slept rough for weeks on her friends couches and floors. She never once told The Spartan about what was going on and tried to get the council to help her but was unsuccessful. Soon, word spread round her extended family about what had happened and she couldn't take the pressure anymore.

As she sat in her friends apartment, she downed 20 Nurofens and a bottle of vodka. She couldn't cope anymore and didn't want to live. After all, she had nothing to live for...