I want
Someone to hear me,
Someone to need me,
Someone to care for,
Someone to share with,
Someone to stay with,
Someone to lay with.

If only I could find somebody,
Someone who will understand,
If only I could find the one to give me what I need.
If only I could find somebody who'll give me a helping hand,
I can't let life pass me by; I'm tired of being me.

I've been lonely for too long, and selfishly I've cried,
I need to pull myself back up,
I need to turn the tide.

I want
Someone to hear me,
Someone to need me,
Someone to care for,
Someone to share with,
Someone to stay with,
Someone to lay with.

If only I could find somebody,
Someone who will understand,
If only I could find the one to give me what I need.
If only I could find somebody who'll give me a helping hand,
I can't let life pass me by; I'm tired of being me.

So how long will it be?
So I can let go.

I need to turn the tide.

I want
Someone to hear me,
Someone to need me,
Someone to care for,
Someone to share with,
Someone to stay with,
Someone to lay with.

If only I could find somebody,
Someone who will understand,
If only I could find the one to give me what I need.
If only I could find somebody who'll give me a helping hand,
I can't let life pass me by; I'm tired of being me.
So tired, so how long will it be?

If only I could find somebody,
Someone who will understand,
If only I could find the one to give me what I need.
If only I could find somebody who'll give me a helping hand,
I can't let life pass me by; I'm tired of being me.
So how long will it be, till I can let go?
'Til I can let go.

Suddenly the thought of sitting at home with the television and several glasses of red wine doesn't seem so appealing, when you're actually doing it. I glance at the luminous numbers of the clock on my DVD player on a shelf under my television and sigh. Ten-thirty. My shift starts at nine tomorrow, I should sleep. I would sleep, if I could.

The bright orange glow of the street lights bores holes in the curtains, an unwelcome light. The constant roar of drunks falling all over themselves as they wander from pub to pub getting more hammered with each step, taking turns to take a swig from a can of beer bought from the Off licence up the road.

I point the remote control at the TV and push buttons aimlessly, catching a glimpse of a horror film, then of a romantic comedy. I stop on the romantic comedy and sit watching, my mind wandering elsewhere.

The comedy makes me think of my own love life, or rather my lack of one. I think of Ric, of his clear skin, his dark, caring eyes and his strong, loving arms, and of how I turned him down.

~*~*~*~

I slam the receiver down, instantly regretting calling him in the first place. I watch the numbers on the DVD player flick to eleven fifty-nine as a single tear rolls down my cheek. As soon as I heard his warm voice answer the phone sleepily I knew it was a bad idea. I'd dialled one-four-one so I was safe, he wouldn't have known it was me.

The dim glow of the lamp behind my chair cast eerie shadows across the ever-darkening room. I flicked the television off and sat in silence.

The phone rang, it's shrill bell shaking the dark, silent room. My hand still on the receiver, I ignored the persistent noise. I knew who it was. It was Ric. Who else would ring me at this time of night? I'm not on call, so Donna or whoever was working tonight would have no reason to.

Pretty soon my answering machine cut in. I heard my voice sounding unusually chirpy, apologising for the fact that I was unable to answer the call, and asking whoever was at the other end of the line to leave a message for me.

'Diane, it's Ric. I know you're there Diane, c'mon, pick up the phone'

Salty tears rolled down my face. I knew it was him. I lifted the receiver then slammed it down bitterly. I felt guilty, Ric is my best friend and I hate lying to him, I hate ignoring him.

The phone rang again, and I yanked the plug out of the back of the phone. More tears rolled down my face in a steady flow, tears of guilt and of loneliness.

My eyes felt heavy as I forced them open. Half past midnight. The doorbell rang, filling the house with yet more unwanted noise. I knew I had no choice but to answer it.

Shakily, I stood up and put my half empty glass of wine on the coffee table as I headed for the front door. I fumbled in the dark to unbolt it, as Ric stood shivering, waiting for me to let him in.

'Diane… I was worried about you. Why did you hang up on me? Why didn't you answer the phone when I rang?'

I shook my head. I tried to speak but nothing came out, only an incoherent murmur. Ric pushed past me, flicking the lights on as he walked into the house.

He walked back to me; he took my hand and made me follow him into the living room, which was now lit by the white ceiling light. He sat down on the sofa, and I did the same, only I sat back in my chair.

'Come on, Diane. What's going on?' Ric asked. 'You've been ignoring me for days, you've been so distant. It's not like you, Diane, you're worrying me.'

Tears continue to roll down my face, burning holes in my skin. Ric reaches over and touched my arm. I flinch at the touch of his warm hand; I shuffle over to the other side of the chair.

'Has someone hurt you? Diane? Talk to me, Diane' Ric pleaded. I shook my head and swallowed hard, fighting the lump in my throat.

I wanted to believe him, I wanted him to take me home and hold me safe, in his strong, loving arms, I wanted him to love me, to promise me he'd never let anyone or anything hurt me, I wanted him to love me, to need me, to care for me, I wanted someone to love, someone to care for, and someone to share my life with.

'What is it, Diane?' Ric pleaded. 'Please talk to me'

I let out a sob. I longed to tell him how I felt, that I loved him more than anything, that all I wanted was for him to take me in his arms and care for me endlessly; all I wanted was for someone to share my life with. I longed to tell him this, but I knew I couldn't. I knew he was what I wanted, but was he the one who could give me what I needed? A helping hand, a guiding light, understanding.

I've been on my own for five years, on my own ever since I turned down his proposal of marriage. I've regretted turning him down ever since. I've been on my own for so long, too long some might say. Too long, even I say that now, and I've been selfish about it, I've cried over it and I've longed for someone to need me, I've longed to love and share my life with someone. I've relied on others, wanted someone to hear me and tell me I'm everything to them and that they'd never let me go.

I needed to turn the tide, I needed to be loved and I just want someone to love.

Ric's eyes bore holes into my head as I turned slowly, so I can see his face. He looked upset, worried, concerned. I felt guilty; guilty for hurting him; guilty for making him feel as though he has to come and see me so late, guilty that I made him worry so much. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out, only incomprehensible whispers.

'I…'

I tried to force words out, but all that came out is a gasp, a sob.

Ric stood up and walked over. He took my hands and pulled me to my feet, he pulled me into a huge hug.

'I still love you, Diane, I don't want to see you hurt,' he whispered into my hair as I cried into his shoulder. I looked up as he spoke, tears glistening in my eyes. It was written all over my face, he knew I loved him too. He pulled me closer, he held me tight.

All I wanted was someone to love me, someone to care for me, someone to promise noone would ever hurt me.

He was here, he was here with me all the time. If only I'd have realised sooner.