I had a dream about you last night. It was so weird. You acted like everything was normal and like you had never left or broke up with me. You kissed me in front of someone like you didn't even care they were watching. At that time in life, it just seemed like we were the only people in our bubble. I was so confused and you were frankly saying, "all over me like a rash". I don't understand.. How can I still be dreaming about you? 

I think I'm over you. I've kind of gotten used to the fact that I'll never see you again. It's like my life has gone backwards or erased you from it. Its been easier since I've come home and I'm not in hull. Not feeling your presence and being in a town where I'm not being reminded of you, makes everything less painful. 

I remember I was all over the place, especially those last few days coming up to your departure. I would cry just looking at a packet of crisps. Or cry when I stood in the bathroom. Pathetic. I felt so pathetic. I underestimated how much you meant to me. But now I can just treat you as if you're a crush. Like a celebrity crush. This is because I know that I can't ever have you. But I will always care and adore you and stupidly I will also want to know what you've been up to. 

Your name still makes my heart flutter but you seem to become more like a stranger to me as the days past by. I had a long conversation catching up with Franklyn yesterday. He told me about how you've started to ignore his messages now. Really Diesel? You're doing this to one of your housemates? Not the Diesel I used to know. You would have your morals and principles and you hated owing people money and vice versa so why be such a dick now? You were loyal, caring and affectionate, in the least homo way possible. But hearing about what you did makes me think you were just pretending to be who you were in Hull. You put on some act for a whole year and this is what you're actually like. I don't get it. Why be such a dickhead? Just fucking why. 

The new pictures that you've been tagged in on Facebook just show such a different character, like this is the "real Diesel" or the Portuguese "lad" you hid from us. I've never seen you in a blazer, formal shirt, jeans and proper shoes. Just what the actual fuck? The Diesel I know hates shoes. Hates them with a passion. He tells shoes to fuck off. He wears flip flops all the time, even with socks. Or he occasionally wears white converses when we have to go out, ones that he lets me stand and trample on, whilst he tries to punish me by throwing me in the bin for. Never would he wear proper shoes. The Diesel I know hates wearing formal clothing and bums out in his flannel shirts, loose fitted vests and hoodies. Blazers? Shirts!? What are they? They weren't you. They never existed in that suitcase you lived out of. Who are you now? Who the hell is this? Someone I don't fucking know. I just want you back. My Diesel. 

I'm glad you left though. I'm glad you left before you ruined this perfect image I had of you. I'm glad I don't have to deal with you being so crazily different anymore. And I'm glad I don't have to deal with the mindfuck you put me through. 

Someone said I was pathetic because I keep your scarf on my bed and sleep with it next to me. But honestly, I've really struggled sleeping back home. It sort of emphasises the fact you're gone. I still remember us so clearly and when I remember these memories, I have a huge grin on my face but then tears run down my face too. So being able to smell your scent as I sleep, allows me to imagine that you're sleeping beside me, smiling like a cute little bear. Soon I'll be able to sleep without your scarf but until then, let me mope in peace because I still miss you.