It’s moving day. We’ve finally brought our first home together, picked out the chairs, the table and the TV. Both loved the kitchen so saved a bit of money not changing it. The first night will be strange. I’ll be sleeping here alone. She has things she needs to do early tomorrow so it’s more convenient for her to stay with her mum. I know tonight I’ll order and India or a pizza. But when it comes to bed time being alone I know I’ll be dreaming on something.. someone. It’s been years and years. Yet I’m still linked to you. I don’t know what that means but it feels supernatural. Like my destiny was to be yours. Like I’ve only been yours in this world of has been and could’ve beens. I’m living on a shelf when it came to loving. But you were the future, you were everything. This house was for us but you don’t have a key. She does. Don’t worry I love her. I wouldn’t be with a soul I didn’t love. I’m just stuck between the world I had and the world I have.



There is nothing better to bring a smile to my face than seeing a girl I love in nothing but my tshirt on. Then getting into bed to snuggle. Nothing better.


Did I just mess up. I like her so much. She makes me heart beat fast. I feel warm when I talk to her, almost nervous. Like that moment when you go for your first kiss with someone you really like. Well I like her that much. So we talk everyday and I dream of her every night. I like her pictures, I like everything. I can’t construct sentences properly because I like her that much. Does she like me more than a friend? I doubt it. Does that make me foolish?


I dreamt about you last night. Now I can’t get you out my head.

I’ve been thinking about every kiss. Every word we ever said.

I believe I’ll love you forever. You’re someone I can’t forget.

Despite the unhappy ending you’re somebody I’ll never regret.

It’s amazing how perfectly imperfect we are for each other. It’s amazing how imperfectly perfect we are for each other.

The rest is unknown to a future untold. I’ll be without you till my last days when old.

With every bum wiggle that leads to a sniggle. It’s a different place to call home tonight.


Wow I miss her. The way we instantly clicked together was like we were part of the same jigsaw set with the two last pieces that fit together. She made the first move. I remember the first night we met in 2015. We went for a drink which we both ended up having a great time so she invited me to hers for a game of Mario kart on Nintendo 64. She kicked my arse at it. That was an excuse to get me back to hers. As the evening followed through to the next day I knew I wanted to keep seeing her. So I did. It became a regular thing. A few times a week at least. We made plans for a picnic. I turned up at hers and she was on the phone to her friend who wasn’t in a good place. I offered to drive her to Colchester to see her friend. So we did. We drove there. We made a day of it. We were like a couple. Holding hands exploring the town. It was a beautiful day and I’m not just on about the weather. That was the day she thought she could really fall for me. I’d go out my way for her and I still would now. See anxiety took over and as much as I wanted to make it real go of being with her I just couldn’t. I had fallen for her but was trapped in a glass box of mental issues I couldn’t break through. It’s been a couple of months since I last saw her. But eight months since I was last with her. It really does suck that she has a boyfriend now. But in the long run all that really matters is that she’s happy. Her happiness becomes before anything else. Merry Christmas to you. The one that got away.

The Diary of Lewis Sandler


Weddings are meant to be joyous occasions. Love and white doves. Families coming together. Three tire cake and white gold bands. Not forgetting someone’s drunk uncle break dancing to Kylie and Jason. Nobody wanted to claim him either. Which makes me believe one of two things. One, he was a wedding crasher or two, he was that embarrassing no side of the family could admit to themselves he’s a relative. All I know is he’s uncle Terry, but who’s uncle remains the mystery.

The saying always the bridesmaid, never the bride comes to mind when people talk about me. Except I’m not a bridesmaid, just a guest. Weddings are joyous, don’t get me wrong. They just remind me how alone I am. I’ve never had a date let alone a date for a wedding. So when Claire and Hugh announced their engagement I was more than happy for them, on the inside. My face on the other hand was telling a different story. The tears were real. Each one like an acid drop dripping from my eyes. The splattering of fluids when I tried to respond to their guest asking am I okay didn’t go so well once her future maid of honour caught some spit in her mouth.

I don’t know how I do it but if I’m around love, or just women in general my life falls to pieces. It’s a curse. And its not like I’ve done bad things or rubbed people up the wrong way before to even deserve this.

My friends stopped adding plus one to my invitations about three years ago or since I was twenty two. Not just to weddings but to parties and other events too. If I can’t get a date in a room full of lonely single women at Claire’s engagement, which naturally makes most women feel like they’ll never find love like they have, then I’m really screwed. After the ‘what’s wrong with you’s?’ and the ‘what kind of disgusting person are you’s?’ I had to respond “I’m Lewis, nothing’s wrong with me I’m just disgusting.” I left. But the universe couldn’t let me leave with my head down. It really wanted to screw me over. Big time. Maybe I’m just karma for the bad things people do. I go to leave, standing by the door is a one of the ladies who shouted abuse. She turned in disgust and I closed the door behind me. I heard loud gasps and a scream. Stopping in my tracks I felt something under foot. I’m standing on tail end of a dress, the rest of it caught in the door. I did the noblest thing I could think of and legged it. Welcome to my life. No wonder I am single.

July 5th 2010.

I’ve Been keeping myself on the down low since the engagement was announced. I faked being ill for the first time in my life. I did a few cool things around the flat. I moved the living room around. I hated it so I moved it back again. I ordered one of those Nintendo Wii things, I sprained my wrist playing tennis and broke a lamp. I thought the strap thing was for hanging up the controllers. Not for locking them to your wrist. Teaches me for not reading the instructions. I decided to teach myself to cook. I don’t think its heard of very often but I burnt the rice for my chilli con carne and I mixed up table spoon with tea spoon when adding the curry paste. It wasn’t until I reread the instructions that I realised curry paste wasn’t supposed to be in the pot.

I developed a thing known to a few as the fear. I decided to eat the curry con carne as a tribute to how bad my life is. Countdown was on, I started crying. I was having hot flushes. I was fine throughout eating the meal. At first I thought has countdown got me feeling things I haven’t felt before. I had to call my mum. “Mum, hello it’s son. Mum I think I’m having an anxiety attack over countdown.” She’s like ‘what? You’re watching countdown?’

“Look mum, I don’t have time to get into this right now. What should I do?”

She asked what I’ve eaten today? Have I taken anything? Nurofen? Cocaine? LSD?

I told her straight. “Mum, I feel like my world is ending. I’m guts are making funny noises and it hurts to move.”

‘It’s nothing.’ She said. ‘Trapped wind.’ She said. She hung up and I held confident in what she said. Oh she couldn’t be far from wrong could she. I tried to release the pressure and shit myself all over my cream leather sofa. Teaches me a lesson for eating in just a dressing gown. The thing that surprised me wasn’t that I shit myself. It was I failed to noticed the window cleaner standing on his ladder lathering up the window witnessing me make a mess of my life. A mess I’d like to have kept a secret.