Sorting things out

Allan didn't take it as well as I thought he had, if the text stalking was anything to go by.
I met him in the pub tonight to try and explain things a bit better, and to tell him to stop trying to protect me from stuff I don't need protecting from, and to stop apologising for things that aren't his fault, and to stop trying to wrap me in cotton wool, and to basically stop worrying about me. Oh and also to stop texting Sarah at 7am to tell her to look after me...like I can't look after myself. Well I guess I can't very well, but I need to do it or I'll never learn to cope with life.
Anyway we talked a lot, and he said he can't help how he feels, and he'll try not to worry about me so much and will stop being so irritatingly nice about everything, and he wants to be friends, which is what I want too...he's a nice guy, and he will make somebody a wonderful boyfriend. Just not me.
So we parted tonight on good terms, after a few tears and stuff.

And the fool still thinks I am a nice person. There's no accounting for some people.
Apparently he's not the only one either.

But I have come to the fairly harsh and painful conclusion that you can't make yourself love someone, no matter how hard you try, or how much you want to. Love is something evil and unexplainable that can't be controlled or subjugated. I hate love, it is a fickle and cruel creature.