King Of My Castle?

I had a beautiful day date with Someone New yesterday. This post might get a little slushy. I don’t know. Just a warning. I’ve been beaming ear to ear ever since so it could go either way.

I didn’t want to stay at his. Shark Week has come, plus I’m waiting for a wax… Shaving now would mean cancelling the appointment, and that means waiting another few weeks. It’s hard work being a girl, I swear.

Anyway, we decided on a day date, and had already swapped Tuesday for Thursday. We met in a little historic town not far from where I lived, and we spent the day just walking, and talking, and holding hands. I fell in love with him yesterday. Well, perhaps not fell in love. But I started bumping my way down, put it that way.

He made me go the very top of an old, abandoned castle – a local tourist attraction. We also wandered to the nearby cathedral, holding hands, laughing and kissing as we went around. It sounds cheesy and like something out of a movie, and it was. Like, it really, really was. We had coffee’s sat outside cute little cafe’s, people watching. We judged everyone and anyone that walked past, occasionally taking the piss out of each other, and it was adorable. Like actually adorable.

Sickly sweet stuff aside, we actually talked. Sat outside the various cafe’s we stopped at, drinking our coffee’s and eating our cake’s, we really talked. About stuff that was really important, not just fluff and frivolity.

I told him his “not-wanting” of kids worried me. I think I definitely do want kids, and I think that is something that has been growing more evident throughout the last three years of this blog. It is more than likely going to become a stronger need as time goes on. He told me he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted them. It wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes either. If the right girl came along, he’s sure it’ll all click into place. But what if it doesn’t?

What if we are still here, three or four years down the line, still wondering and waiting? What happens then? When time is starting to run out for me, and my chances of conceiving naturally goes down with every period that passes?

I probably DO want to have kids. I probably DO want to get married again. I thought I could have kids and get married to Jock, so I’m sure that feeling will come again and hopefully, if and when it does, it won’t be with a complete and utter twat. I know we’ve only been dating six months but I’m starting to wonder if maybe Someone New could be something long term. He made it this far, didn’t he? There’s a reason I don’t want to let him go. And I’m glad I didn’t / haven’t. He is starting to become a very important little part of my life. I’m starting to miss him more, and not want to blow him out. I want to see him, even if we can only manage a few hours here and there, and he should have the opportunity to see me more often than once every two or three weeks. That’s hardly fair on him, is it? He deserves better than that.

I want to make him happy. I want him to want me more, not just in the bedroom, but out of it too. I want to be a good girlfriend for him because he is such a good boyfriend to me. I couldn’t ask for anything better. If I have a concern, I can talk to him about it. I even told him about the little jealous patch I had with that girl that liked all his Facebook statuses. Turns out, she’s a long term friend, she has a long-term partner, and he’s been good friends with them BOTH for over ten years. Well, don’t I feel like a twat? A twat yes, but I felt better for talking to him about it. You see – he’s so super approachable. There’s nothing I can’t talk to him about. I’m starting to have a great fondness for the weird, bumpy, often-misunderstood honesty we have with each other. It’s not perfect, but it’s getting there. We are evolving as a couple. It’s actually pretty cool to realise that.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we are the shittest couple ever and we are changing everything about ourselves to fit together. It’s not like that at all. We are just learning little things about each other, and it’s often the little tweaks that make the difference. I don’t like it when he posts a load of crap on my Facebook wall, for example. I can’t tell if he’s being clingy or marking his territory via social media, but it really pisses me off. I told him that, he stopped doing it, job done.

It’s like that about everything too – not just the Facebook thing. I didn’t like it when he bugged me in the evenings when I was working. He told me last night that he knew I wasn’t always working and he knew I was watching some shitty reality TV show, or playing Call of Duty with Bestie. But he leaves me to it anyway because he knows I need my personal space, and he knows we don’t need to communicate every minute of every day. I told him I didn’t like it when he bugged me, he stopped doing it, job done.

I like to think it works both ways too. For example, I never seem to message him in the morning. In fact, I rarely manage to send him a message before 1/2pm. I didn’t realise that – I’m just not that social first thing in the morning, mostly because I hate the entire world. But it bugged him, and he told me about it and I realised how that must look to him. I realised how selfish I was being. So although I don’t manage it every morning, I do try to send him “Good morning” messages when I remember. I also know I need to get better at that. I know how much that morning message means. Not getting it from ex-boyfriends has ruined my mood for the entire day in past relationships, so I should practice what I preach and work a little harder.

It’s like we’re in a real adult relationship. It’s bonkers. There’s no game playing. There’s no lies. There’s no skeletons in the closet and if there is, they are coming out slowly and gingerly. It’s actually quite nice. I would like to think we’ve both got the major bombshells out the way, and we’re still standing pretty strong. There’s something to be said for that.

Even after telling him I was scared he wasn’t man enough for me, he was still sat there at that table, holding my hand, smiling at me. I know the way words come out of my mouth isn’t always the best way to put things because that’s not really how I meant it, but he gets me every time. He knows what I’m saying. He knows I never mean it as harshly as it sounds. He knows I just meant I wanted him to be more ‘real him’ with me, rather than the well-behaved version he keeps portraying. I want the guy that he keeps telling me about – the guy that falls over, says the wrong thing, and has no social filter. He knows that and he said that. He also has a rebuttal for everything. He’s still getting to know me so he doesn’t want to go all out with the usual pranking, piss-taking behaviour he would normally display. Part of him is still on his best behaviour. In fact, that can be said for both of us, can’t it? He’s only seen a fraction of the personalities I have to offer.

But yesterday, at the top of that castle, when I should have been shitting my pants, fearful for my life (it was really high, the wind was blowing, I was scared I was going to drop my phone…), I wasn’t scared. I was breathless and shaky, but it wasn’t the heights. It was him. I wasn’t scared because I knew he was there, and it was at that point I realised something. He makes me feel safe. The world isn’t such a scary place when he’s in it. I trust him. He’s in. That moment right there, at the top of the castle, I fell in love with him. A little bit anyway.

Ha – maybe I have finally found the King of my castle…? 

King Of My Castle?

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had – Part Three

Have you read Part One and Part Two yet? You might want to go back and read those first! 🙂

The last story I seemed to have a hard time with as I didn’t want to re-mention old stories. Like the guy with the silk boxer shorts that waddled towards me whilst pulling on a condom, and almost suffocated me with his huge, tall body on the couch. Or the Prison Warden guy with this knee-high football socks and THAT awkward threesome.

Gosh I really was a slut. Notice the was though – I’m nothing like that now thankfully. My behaviour back then makes me cringe. I’m just glad social media hadn’t been invented at that point.

I think I’m going to have to go with Number 18 for this one. The Prison Guy.

I don’t really know what happened with this guy. He had just gotten out of prison and was honestly, not an attractive creature. I don’t even know how I met him, although I used to hang around with his girlfriend and we worked together for a while, so I can only assume it was that. Honestly though – she wasn’t all that either and she could have done so much better than this guy. He really was a fucking skank.

He was my friend though, and one night we found ourselves alone in his halfway house that I found myself hanging out in for a spell. I was living with my Grandmother and seriously rebelling I think – drinking too much and smoking too much pot. It wasn’t long before we were stripping and when his pants were removed, I literally stopped dead.

He had no penis. Like, I’m not even kidding. He had NO penis. It was smaller than my little finger ERECT and I have really small hands. It was tiny. And it was no bigger in girth either. Perhaps a tad but not much. I remember trying to close my mouth around it at one point and there was nothing to it, it was impossible to blow!

I don’t actually think we can class what we did as real, actual sex. I’m sure it didn’t even go in far enough to warrant calling it sex. Plus he came real quick. Clearly I was the best thing he’d had in his bed for a while.

I’m not proud of that moment, and I don’t admit it to anyone else. Mostly because she announced she was pregnant the next day, and the day after that he was arrested for robbing my Grandmother’s friend who lived up the road in the middle of the night. I remember hiding his stuff and trying to keep a straight face as I lied to the police about knowing his whereabouts but now I kick myself. He would have robbed my Grandmother in a heartbeat. I don’t know why I helped him, or why I classed him as a friend. I definitely have no idea why I got into bed with him. I can only assume I was rebelling to a very serious degree.

That’s what I’m putting it down to anyway.

I always thought I had no regrets in life and that I learned from every sexual experience but that one is a genuine regret. I’m pretty sure they’re still together and have probably had an estate’s worth of children by now. They deserved each other. They were both skanks. I always knew I was better than that. Except at the time, I wasn’t.

So yeah. Those are what I would class to be my three weirdest, strangest, most bizarre sexual experiences ever. Why don’t you carry on and tell me yours? Link to me – I want to read allllllllll about it.

Seriously though. Not proud of these moments of my life. I’m hanging my head in shame right now. All experience I guess…..

The Weirdest Sexual Experiences I've Ever Had

The Bullying Bitch

I watched a video on Facebook last night and I really feel the need to talk about it. This has nothing to do with my life, but it definitely had an effect on it. It was a video about bullying. Maybe you should watch it for yourself. You can find the video on my Facebook page, or read the news articles that followed:

ITV News – Birmingham Girl Arrested Over Facebook Bullying Video Goes Viral

The Bullying Bitch

I shared the video on my Facebook wall which I appreciate makes me a bit of a hypocrite. Some may see this as bullying too – naming and shaming a bully to six million people over social media. I don’t think so. Let me explain myself.

We live in a world that rotates around technology now. When you do something in public, you MUST be prepared for other people to see it. Whether that’s by CCTV or a video / photo taken on someone’s mobile phone, there’s a good chance your every move is being documented somehow. It’s a sad state of affairs but that’s the way it is, and when things like this happen, I am glad of it. If this video hadn’t been made, and made public, there’s a good chance this incident would never have been brought to justice, and thankfully, this evil, vindictive bitch is now in custody, being investigated by police.

As someone that has been on the nasty little end of one of these ‘playground pranks’, I can wholeheartedly sympathise with the embarrassment, shame and fear that the two girls on the end of this bully’s actions would have felt. I remember being in the centre of the school yard where all the bags were kept, trying to get to my own right at the back. One of the popular girls in school grabbed my bag, held it up in front of everyone, and mocked it. It wasn’t the Morgan designer one that all the other girls had that year. I wasn’t really up with the latest fashion trends. I wasn’t a skank, by any means, but I just wasn’t a designer baby. My parent’s struggled financially, as I’m sure many other’s did, and although I had everything I needed, I was more likely to have Primark than Prada.

She wouldn’t give me my bag back, and more and more kids were coming out of the dining hall. Before I knew it, there was a small crowd forming. She belittled me, my lack of designer clothing, and my shitty bag for what like eternity in front of everyone else. In reality it was probably only around 10 minutes. She made me crawl halfway over the bags to try and get to her, to get my bag out of her hand, and then she threw it right to the other end so that I had to crawl my way back out again. It was mortifying. My skirt went up as I was crawling around on my hands and knees like a dog, and I’m pretty sure one of the lads shouted he could see my underwear. Right there, at that particular moment, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Everyone was watching. Everyone was laughing. Lots of things like that happened to me at school. I was bullied pretty badly, to the point where I attempted suicide one Sunday night, terrified at the prospect of going back to the school the next day. Terrified at the thought of facing the loneliness and abandonment that every day brought with it. I was so isolated. I didn’t fit in anywhere. I didn’t really have any friends. I guess I was the weird kid.

My experience back then in the school yard with my bag – if that had happened now, it would have gone something like that video. Except the entire school will probably see that video, and have a constant reminder of it too. The evolution of bullying. Can you believe it?

I’m very anti-bullying now. I might be a bitch and say it straight, but I’m not a bully. If I see someone being bullied, I will instantly jump to their defence. I don’t mind the odd prank, but there is a fine line, and I won’t sit back and watch if someone crosses it.

You see, after watching that video, I toyed with the idea of sharing it on my Facebook page. If I shared it, I would be just as bad, wouldn’t I? Instead of belittling her and shaming her to a small group of my friends however, I would be joining the masses – 6 million other people – to publicly shame and humiliate her across the world.

I chose to do it anyway. And this is my reason why….

Teachers, policemen, parents – these adults have no authority over kids these days. This is becoming increasingly apparent. I had a fairly strict upbringing, and I was disciplined if I did something wrong. I would be given a warning the first time and if I ignored it and did it again, I would get a swift, sharp slap across the back of the tops of my legs. Sometimes a handprint would be left behind, and it would sting for a while, but it never caused me any serious damage and you can bet your last buck I wouldn’t do whatever it was again. I feel that parenting is too soft these days. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with beating your child black and blue, but discipline is important. Smacking a child’s hand when they repeatedly reach for a candle isn’t battering them, or child abuse, it’s education and discipline. If you don’t slap the child’s hand away when they don’t listen to you say “No”, it will burn itself on the candle. Of course, you could always just remove the candle entirely and wrap the child up in cotton wool. But that’s a different kind of parenting technique altogether.

The point I’m trying to make here is that the ONLY way to teach kids just like this bully these days, is by naming and shaming. Do you think that she would have listened to her parents about this incident? Do you think anything her parents could have said or done would have made a difference to her behaviour? No, she would have gotten her phone taken away from her for a week or so, would have been made to apologise to the other girls, and life would have gone on as normal. She probably would have gone on to do it again to someone else.

Even if the cops had been involved before the whole Facebook name-and-shame, do you think they would have been able to do anything? If that video hadn’t existed, they wouldn’t have. There wouldn’t have been enough evidence. And if the Facebook sharing situation hadn’t happened, the incident would never have been brought to the cop’s attention anyway. It even says on the news report that a ‘Facebook post has been brought to their attention’.

This aside, kids don’t learn from parents. They don’t listen to cops, or teachers, or anyone meant to have authority. If they did, getting grounded and getting detention would still work. When I got grounded, I didn’t do what I did wrong again. I hated being grounded. If a kid gets grounded now, my younger sister being a classic example, they would just shout and scream so loud and for so long, the parents let them out the house anyway, in a bid to shut them up.

There is no discipline.

Do you want to know what will make a difference to this girl’s behaviour though? The opinions of her peers – the opinions and thoughts of the six million other people over the internet. She will be mortified by this event, so much so that I can personally guarantee she probably won’t do it again. Looking at her pictures, she’s clearly a girl that makes an effort with the way she looks, which would suggest she would care what people think about her. So the fact that right now, six million people think so badly about her, they would adorn their Facebook walls with videos of her ugly actions, will hurt her deep. She will be too scared to be a bully again.

Facing the judgemental looks of your friends, parents, and teachers is one thing. Facing the judgemental looks of the entire world is something else entirely.

If prison, detention, grounding, or a good telling-off worked, the world wouldn’t be the way it is today. It would still be the way it was twenty years ago, thirty years ago, whatever – when people were frightened about going to prison, and the thought of getting told off by your parents simply terrified you. The world is very different, and the internet makes a massive difference to how we all live our lives. As much as most of us would wish it weren’t true, this Facebook naming and shaming is probably one of the only things that would have worked to stop this bully. And regardless of what may have happened in the lead up to this; regardless of what the two bullied girls may have said or done, THIS was the part that was on video and shared to the entire world. And for that, the bully herself is to blame. If she hadn’t done that; if she hadn’t treated those two girls like utter shit, disrespecting them in a way that girls really shouldn’t disrespect each other, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about. And if she hadn’t stupidly let her friends record her, in a bid to saviour the memory to make herself feel better later on, to laugh at and to mock those two poor girls one more time, it would never have ended up on Facebook.

You see, your consequences have actions these days, especially over social media. And this is a lesson this bully has now learned. Let’s hope it’s a mistake she doesn’t repeat.

So yes, as much as publicly naming and shaming this girl may ruin her life, she is already well on her way to ruining two other girls lives. The only difference is, her Facebook fame will be over and done with in a couple of weeks, with the general public moving onto their next victim. The two girls that she bullied – that will have a lasting impact on their mental health – the way they think about themselves, for the rest of their lives. Because bullying does have a long-lasting effect. And before you say that the naming and shaming will affect the bully for the rest of her life too, so will prison, or whatever sentence she gets from her crime. If it even gets that far. She did the crime – she deserves to do the time. That’s called justice.

Plus, those videos would have been made in a bid to mock those girls later on. There was no other purpose to keeping the memory of that bullying event. They did that to either share on Facebook themselves later on, or just to keep and have something to laugh at. Either way, it’s sick and it’s twisted, and something needs to be done to stop it. It’s abuse. If it were sexual, we wouldn’t stand for it. If it were physical (which it was at one point), we wouldn’t stand for it. So why do we stand for it when it is mental abuse? Deliberately humiliating people in front of others, making them beg or apologise, getting them to bow down on their knees…. Sorry, but doesn’t this behaviour set a lot of alarm bells going off? If we let that kind of behaviour grow and evolve, what would happen? In five years time, or ten years time, how far on will this bullying have got? How long before this girl carries a knife? Or decides to throw a girls bag into the road again and get her killed by a passing car?

Not just treating this bully a lesson, it also teaches the world a valuable lesson. I bet a lot of her friends will be re-evaluating their behaviour right now. I bet some of them will question what they are doing before they do it, or what they say before they say it. I bet it will put at least one of them off being a bully ever again. And if we can stop just one bully from this, that’s only a good thing.

A little out of control – most definitely.

Needed to prove a point to society, especially impressionable, silly young girls – 100%.

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had – Part Two

You may remember that I wrote a post a couple of days ago – The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had? Well…. This is the second part of it! 🙂

The second weirdest sexual experience I’ve had doesn’t involve a garden shed. I was about the same age however, this time I was single. And didn’t I know it.

Bestie and I lived together in this tiny little apartment that we trashed, quite frankly. We had a Halloween party one night and it was quite the talk of the town. We had covered all the walls of the apartment in black garbage bags, and had scattered fake spiders, glow in the dark silly string, and all manner of other halloweeny-themed decorations around.

I was dressed as a sexy vampire with a corset that tucked my boobs right under my chin. I looked good that night with my high platform boots and the fangs that made me look so much naughtier than normal. My main intention that night was to get laid. That’s why I wore that corset. It made my waist look tiny and my tits look massive. There is no other reason to wear a corset. It’s not like they’re a comfortable item of clothing.

However, my main intention was to get laid. What I didn’t expect was quite as many options…

I had invited a number of people to the party, some of which were ex work colleagues. There was Goth Guy – the Marilyn Manson lookalike with a MASSIVE cock. One of my female friends dated him for a while (I slept with her too – oops), and apparently, he had the biggest cock she had ever seen in her life. I didn’t get that far. We had a few nights where we came pretty close but for some reason, the deed was never done. I don’t know why.

Anyway, by the end of the night, he was naked in my bed, waiting for me to join him. The only problem with this is that there was ALSO the cute, curly-haired guy from work chatting me up in the kitchen, and he clearly thought he was in with a chance too. I needed to make my mind up because the end of the night was getting really close. Plus Bestie was getting annoyed. He knew he’d probably end up having to get rid of the ones I didn’t want for the night. Male best friend duties…? (I’d do the same for him, and have done a few times.)

There was one other guy at the party – a guy whose name I can’t remember, but I invited him because he was my ‘back-up guy’. I knew I could have him if it all fell through with everyone else. Well, he thought he was going to be more than my back-up plan and got really clingy and annoying, so I started with a fight with him just so I could get him to leave.

Just as I was making my mind up, right at the end of the night, The Fireman – the guy mentioned in the first weird sex story, knocked on my door. He had been on a night out himself. One minute we were talking by the front door and the next, he was hanging out the back of me, as I was hanging out my bathroom window. Everyone else was still partying away and getting in the last of the booze before the daylight hours hit, and I was getting fucked in my bathroom. The naked guy was still in my bed, and the curly haired guy was still waiting for me in the kitchen… Right next door to the bathroom.

(The fuck was I thinking?)

I could hear Bestie calling me from the living room so I did what I do best – I ran. The Fireman only lived a little way down the road, so without even grabbing my shoes, we waited until there was no longer anyone in the kitchen, bolted down the stairs, and headed for his where we had a night of what always happens when we get between the sheets – AMAZING sex.

Of course, the morning after the night before was a total nightmare. I didn’t even think to grab my purse before I left, and I didn’t grab a pair of shoes either. He didn’t have any cash on him, so at 8am the next morning, I did the walk of shame pure-tramp style, with no shoes on, a halloween corset tucking my tits under my chin, and last night’s horror makeup smeared all around my face.

I can only imagine it was an attractive look…

But yeah, having that many guys literally panting for me in one house was definitely one of the weirdest experiences I’ve ever had. It’s not one I think I’d like to recreate anytime soon. It still makes me cringe.

I don’t really know what I was thinking back then. I was bullied pretty badly at school so male attention was something that never really came easy for me. That was, of course, until I left school and got my first job where I happened to be surrounded by teenage lads with raging hormones… and I was a pretty little blonde thing who was finding herself sexually. That’s what I blame – finding myself sexually. I guess in reality, I was just a bit of a slut. And why not? Who cares? I used a condom, was sexually smart, and I like to think I learned a few things along the way.

Not that I’m justifying it, of course. I don’t need to justify it to anyone.

So that’s my second weird sex story. The night I was part of an actual mating ritual.

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I've Ever Had

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I’ve Ever Had

I read this thing on Facebook on one of those article sites that gets shared a thousand times, and it was all about this one girl’s three weirdest and funniest sexual experiences, and man, were they funny.

My 3 Most Horrible (And Hilarious) Sexual Encounters

I decided to have a go at this myself seeing as we all know how weird and wonderful my sex life has been over the years. I have decided to share with you the three weirdest sexual experiences  I’ve ever had.

Are you ready? Sitting comfortably? Ready to cringe with me?

I had to put some serious thought into this as, I’m going to be honest, I’ve had more bad, nasty, and downright weird sexual occurrences than I would openly like to admit to.

Guy Number 3 on my list was a pretty weird situation, so I’m going to put this one at number three on this list.

It was me, my boyfriend (Number 4 – The Fireman), Number 3, and his girlfriend. We’d been out drinking together until the early hours of the morning, aged around 18/19, and after the pubs were done and we were all good and kicked out, we decided to keep the party going.

On the way home to my guy’s house, someone mentioned a foursome, and the idea kinda picked up speed from there. Fuelled with amounts of booze that a sailor on leave would be proud of, we stormed back to boyfy’s house, only to remember that not only was his entire family home, but he had relatives staying on the living room floor as well.

We were so far gone in our alcohol-fuelled horn-dog states, we would have carried on that particular party anywhere and we did…. In my boyfriend’s garden shed.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like a falling down wreck or anything like that. In fact, it was a relatively new shed and once we were done with it, was quite the romantic get-up with candles, soft music, and plenty more booze. Before I knew it, we were stripping off, and there was a lot of things happening all at once.

My boyfriend was kissing me, and Number 3 was kissing his girlfriend. Then I heard noises that suggested they weren’t just kissing anymore and all of a sudden, we weren’t just kissing anymore either. I don’t remember an awful lot of the night, mostly because of the vast amount of booze we drank but also because it was about a million years ago, but I do remember both of us girls being on my boyfriend’s dick at one point. When it was time for me to enjoy my fill, with all three of the others focusing all of their attention on me, my boyfriend decided he ‘couldn’t do it anymore’. He pulled out the safe word – Eeyore.

Hey, don’t judge – it’s a safe word that works!

We had a massive fight after that night came to an abrupt end, and he accused me of cheating on him which was quite ironic seeing as he got played with and I didn’t, so to speak.

I slept with Number 3 in the end anyway, a while later. In fact, I’m pretty sure he cheated on the same girlfriend with me. They are married now and have had a couple of kids, but I bet he didn’t forget that night in the shed, or the night we had, just us two, that followed.

So, part one done. I realised this post was going to be much longer than anticipated so I’ll do the good thing and break it up for you.

Keep your eyes peeled for part two, and while you’re there – tell me your most embarrassing / weird sex stories. It can’t just be me…

The 3 Weirdest Sexual Experiences I've Ever Had

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Right, I’m naming and shaming. Well, not quite. But seriously though, what is up with girls airing their dirty linen in public? Or rather, on Facebook? Get a fucking grip.

When I woke up this morning, I checked my Instagram to see what’s going on in the world, and one of my female friends who I shall call The Sad-Act, had uploaded no fewer than 26 soppy, sad, depressing Instagram quote-posts. Honestly, it was almost vomit-inducing.

“Relationships are about trust. If you have to play detective, it’s time to move on.”

“Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.”

“A man is only insecure about a female when he knows she deserves better.”

“Romeo and Juliet is just another examples of why communication within a relationship is so crucial.”

God, it’s depressing isn’t it? There were twenty-fucking-six of them. As if my morning hadn’t started out depressing enough already.

Why do girls do this? Guys NEVER do this, or at least, very rarely. I’ve never seen a guy go on for weeks and weeks on his Facebook / Twitter / Instagram accounts about how much he misses the girl, or how much his heart is breaking because she is no longer in his life. You never see that, do you? If you have seen that, please tell me, I’d really like to see it. And laugh, obviously. Wimp.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Now, don’t get me wrong, I know how heartbreaking a breakup can be. I’m still going through one of them myself, aren’t I? I know it’s heartbreaking and I know it feels as if the end of your life has come. But it hasn’t. As sad as I was, I knew I wouldn’t feel sad forever. I knew that although the pain would always be there, that the man I once loved would no longer be in my bed or in my life, it would subside, and one day I would ever find love again in someone new. That’s part of life isn’t it? Is there any real need to be soooooooo melodramatic about it in public?

The thing that really gets to me is the fact that she is PUBLICLY plastering her business all over social media. Surely she has more dignity than that? What happened to walking away from a breakup “winning” – head held high, no regrets, getting on just fine? On the outside at least. You would never know I was going through a breakup in the ‘real world’. There is no mention of it on Facebook. I don’t make my relationship status ‘single’, I just hide it so no one can see it, and then make it ‘single’ when I’m good and ready. I don’t change it so that anyone can see – I’m certainly not joining the pity party.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

Why would you let a man have that much control over your happiness? Why would you let a man have that much control in front of 500 of your ‘closest’ friends? It makes no sense to me. I would just rather have a bit more dignity. I don’t need a man to complete me, and even if that’s not strictly true, I don’t need to admit as such to the entire world. Why would you let him know he still bugs you that much? If he did that bad shit to you, bad shit to warrant 26 Instagram posts hating on him, why would you even give him five seconds of your day? Clearly he’s not worth it if he fucked you up that much.

Sort Yourself Out Ladies

I don’t know. Those 26 posts just really annoyed me. Get a grip of yourself. NO man in the world is worth that. I wouldn’t even let David Beckham have 26 posts telling him how much he won this breakup war. Na uh. No way.

Sort yourself out ladies. That’s all I’m saying.

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It’s Not A Good Morning

It's Not A Good Morning

I woke up to this photo and it was like a stab to the heart. I’m starting to really hate my TimeHop app, but I’m a masochist and for some reason, I just can’t delete it. Or turn off the notifications. Nope – I decide to give myself daily reminders of past loves gone by. Past loves that aren’t entirely in the past.

I’m pretty sure I’ve told you about this day before. It was the day after the night before. We’d gotten drunk and had our first fight. He was throwing his cash around and generally getting on my nerves, and before I knew it, I was drunk and I slapped him around the face. I’m still not one hundred percent sure why I did that, but it sure was funny afterwards. I’m glad he never took that seriously. I think he knew it was just my way of seeing how far I could push him. After being married to a man that would punch me in the face basically every time he got drunk, I needed to be sure that wasn’t going to happen with Jock too.

The next day, we were hungover as balls and we got ourselves a prepared sandwich and pork-pie picnic and headed to the beach. Lying on the big rocks on the secluded sea front, enjoying the cool breeze and forgetting about sun cream in the baking summer sun… It was a perfect day. Or it would have been if it weren’t for the hangover.

I’m pretty sure we had bumped into his ex that night, and he’d made a comment that upset me. It was the first night she ruined our time together but it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. I wish I had know two years ago today how much hassle she was going to cause me. I don’t think I would have gone through with it all a second time around.

When I saw that photo though, it wasn’t that fight I remembered. It was the amazing day afterwards where we apologised profusely to each other and promised it wouldn’t happen again. It rarely did, thankfully but that’s only because we didn’t drink together that often. It was probably for the best. Every time we did, it was a total disaster.

I still want him back so much, you know. It’s not as bad now as it was a few months ago, but my longing for him is still much stronger than it should be. I’m still convinced that somehow, someday we’ll get back together. I’m still sure he was my Prince Charming. I just think we both fucked it up. I made mistakes too. It wasn’t all him.

As much as my Someone New is starting to nestle his way into my heart, I can’t get Jock out of my head completely. Nor do I want to. Even after all this time, there is still a very big part of me that wants him right back in my life again. It was all so easy when he was in my life and although we fought like cat and dog sometimes, I was happy. I was. I really, really was.

I’m starting to wonder if maybe there was something in us, and whether we both gave up too soon. He stretched out to me and sent that message a few months ago, didn’t he? What happens if I am right, and you’re all wrong? All you people telling me he’s no good for me… What if you’re wrong? You only see things from my point of view, don’t you? You don’t hear about how unreasonable HE thinks I’m being. Because trust me, unreasonable is my middle name sometimes. Even Someone New has realised that now.

The point I’m trying to make here is, what if he was my one? I know we had down’s but man, did we have up’s too. I know I deserved more, and sometimes he did too, but he’s all I want. Even right now, sat in my bed at 01:24 in the morning, crying, listening to Paolo Nutini’s Better Man. Because he sent me that song and I like to think that at the time, he meant every word of it.

I love him. And I’m starting to wonder if this heartache will ever go away. Because right now, as pissed off and sad as he made me sometimes, it still wasn’t halfway near as bad as the pain I feel when I realise we aren’t together anymore. Like this morning when I woke up to that godamn photo that broke my heart all over again. I love him and I miss him. And I really want him back.

But still, I don’t message him because everyone keeps telling me I shouldn’t. I don’t un-block him in the hope he and sends me another message. I don’t do any of the things I want to do, because it’s ‘bad’.

But honestly, why is it so bad? If it would make me happy, having him back in my life, why would it be so bad?