Second novel

We are at 82677 words.
A fully fleshed out plot.

Today I realised that Mr N has been there since I started the novel, and he's still there as I finish it. It's been five years now.

I thought I could exorcise him through writing, but I was horribly wrong. I think I just made it worse.

Sometimes we send these angry/wistful 'what if' emails to each other, wishing that things had turned out differently.  How could they have? I wanted love, he wanted adventure. I wanted him to be mine and only mine, he wanted to sleep with other women. Which some women are alright with, but it's just not ok for me. I don't want someone who can't make me feel special. Sure, he made me feel sexy and wanted, but I never felt like I was what he wanted the most. I felt like I was one of many. I don't blame him at all - I still find it really difficult to understand how I feel about him, so how was I meant to articulate it to him? He made me so curious all the time, but eventually that wears off - you don't want to know any more because it'll only hurt.

Every year I start the second novel, then I realise I've put bits of reality in - he's there, staring at me again.


Last week I started a new one.  It's entirely fictional.