The End.

I couldn’t sleep anyway and I was messaging The Fireman for something to do until the early hours of Thursday morning. I seemed to be finding myself needing to define and explain the new relationship I had with Someone New to him, and I’ll be honest, that frustrated me a little. How are you meant to define and explain a relationship when you’re not even sure what it is yet?

“Hasn’t it been a few months now?” he asked.

“Yes, almost three but what’s that got to do with anything…?” was my response.

It was when he asked “Is the sex good?” that I kinda lost it a little…

My sex life is between me and Someone New, (or ‘Mr. Lucky’ as The Fireman likes to call him). What happens in our bed stays in our bed. And no, you don’t have a right to know because you ‘know me inside and out’ as you said, because you haven’t been inside or out of me in a very long time.

My rant to The Fireman was unapologetic. Why do guys think they have a right to talk to me like that?

It was at 1:20am that it happened. Oh no, it wasn’t a text from The Fireman that had me in hysterical tears for a good 45 minutes. It was him. Jock. He messaged me.

“you ok ?”

That’s exactly what he wrote, exactly how he wrote it. I bet that took up a full three seconds of his day. I must be grateful for such a snippet of his time, at such a ridiculous hour of the morning. My heart stopped as soon as his name appeared at the top of my phone. It was a moment I never thought would come; a moment I had been dreaming about for so long but had resigned myself to believing it would never happen. And now it had happened. The guy I believed and still do believe to some extent, was the love of my life, the yin to my yang, the night to my day and other such bullshit, had finally gotten back in touch with me after our awful and devastating breakup.

I called Bestie who was sleeping in a room just twenty steps from mine. Bolt upright in my bed, with tears streaming down my face, “It happened. He messaged me…”, was all I could squeak out. He knew who it was right away. He was furious. Absolutely livid. He told me if Jock were to turn up at my doorstep, he’d just punch him.

Why is he messaging me? What does he want? Why has he left it so long to ask if I was OK, to find out if I had CANCER? Why is he doing this to me? The second I think I could be happy, moving on with Someone New, someone who for once, isn’t like a complete and utter douschebag, he drops his sad, pathetic fat ass back into my life and fucks all my shit up.

I seem to be having a really hard time getting to grips with this. You’ll be pleased to know I blocked the dickhead this morning, but something about that message has gotten right under my skin, and it doesn’t appear to be a sensation that’s gonna fuck off at any point soon. I have no intentions of finding out what he wants, but there’s such a big part of me that’s curious. Is it just the drunk booty call as Karen suggested in my last post? Has he realised that the grass isn’t greener on the other side? Does he want me back? Did he see that photo of me and Someone New together? Good. I hope he did. I hope he saw it and it cut him like a knife. I hope he regrets the day he ever did that to me. You see, as curious as I am, getting over him was and is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I ended up in therapy again because of that cunt. Too harsh a word? No, not in the slightest.

I loved him. I still love him. I just can’t have him in my life anymore. It’s nice to know that he still thinks of me but the fact of the matter is this – he doesn’t think about me enough and he never, ever did. After the time that has passed, after what he left me dealing with, I expected a lot more than just “you ok?”. I expect much fucking more than that. And he’s never going to be the guy that gives me that. If he was, we wouldn’t have broken up in the first place.

See, I feel strong now. I reckon I’m on my way over him, you know? It’s been tough, and I’m sure there are plenty more obstacles to come, but not messaging him right back was a massive achievement for me. I’m proud of not ranting my frustrations out on him. I’m glad for not pouring my heart out to him. I’m happy that I blocked him. That chapter of my life is well and truly over, and no amount of his messaging is going to change that now. I’ve moved on. I’m moving on. I’d be better off alone that back with that prick.

The end.

2 thoughts on “The End.

  1. God, well done! Believe me, I know the strength it took t not message back! Remember you are right – if it had meant anything more than a tossed breadcrumb, he would have SAID SO. What he wanted was to mess with your head. OK, he got that, but he doesn’t know and hopefully never will, so YOU WIN this round of Game of Narcissist. Something I learned long ago in this game – quit while you are ahead. WELL DONE YOU xxx

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