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5 good thing about getting dumped right before Christmas

17 Dec

1) It’s one less gift to buy…
2) …but you can spend the money you saved on something for yourself instead. Like a new dress, or a massage, or a Rampant Rabbit ;)
3) You can take advantage of the abundance of mistletoe. It’s never been so socially acceptable to kiss complete strangers in the name of tradition.
4) You can eat as many yummy little pigs-in-blankets as you want without worrying about anyone seeing your Christmas belly outside the confines of your festive jumper.
5) No need to shave your legs. Helloooo opaque tights!

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Double fail: I get rejected for my dream job AND I get dumped

16 Dec

I haven’t written anything on here for a month. But in my defence, it’s been a really tough, shitty month.

I got an interview for my dream job at a national newspaper, a place I interned at while I was at university and have been desperate to get my foot back in the door there ever since. I cancelled all my plans – including an annual trip to see my oldest and bestest girlfriends and a Beth Orton concert with my sister – and spent a week solidly prepping for it.

The interview went well, or so I thought. Then last week I got a rejection email. Apparently I was a “very strong candidate” but some of my answers were not quite “specific enough”. I spent the rest of the day at work with a smile so fixed it felt like my face might crack and then bawled my eyes out in the car on the way home for the entire 45 minute journey, with nothing to dry my tears and wipe my snotty nose except the gross yellow duster I use to clean my windscreen.

The annoying thing is, the job was nothing I hadn’t done before in previous roles. I think perhaps nerves got the better of me at the interview and I rambled a bit. I should have popped two Beta Blockers beforehand instead of one. Or maybe three.

Then today I got dumped. For the second time this year.

I was due to go and see T. in London this weekend, and when I texted him to see what train I should book, he called me. I figured something was wrong because he never calls me, he only ever texts. We chatted for a bit about our weekend and I started to think I was just being paranoid as he was being perfectly normal. Then I decided to bite the bullet and asked if he still wanted me to visit.

To cut a long story short, he likes me but he doesn’t want to lead me on; he’s not sure he’s ready for this to get more serious as he just got out of an eight year relationship earlier this year; he drunkenly kissed another girl a couple of weeks ago (!) and feels really guilty about it, if I’d got the job at the national newspaper things might be different because I’d be moving to London but keeping things going long distance feels like a lot of pressure, blah, blah, blah.

The thing is, he was so nice about it that I actually ended up consoling him. “It doesn’t matter that you kissed someone else because we’d never really talked about what was going on between us” … “If you’re not comfortable with this then I’d rather you say so now rather than stringing me along” … “Thanks for being honest with me”… “Don’t worry, I’m not half as devastated as I was about the job”….

I am a fool and a push-over and right now it feels like I’m destined to be single and stuck in a job that’s about as creatively fulfilling as peeling onions with a spoon FOREVER.

Hurrah! I get the all clear

1 Nov

I don’t have an STD after all. After doing the pee-in-a-pot chlamydia self-test before work and then worrying through a busy day of meetings and Googling on my iPhone to find my nearest GUM clinic – all the while ignoring vitriolic text messages from Jealous Ex – he eventually confessed that he’d made the whole thing up. Although he didn’t exactly say “made up”. He gave the following explanation:

It turns out while I was on holiday he convinced himself that he’d caught something (just like he convinced himself I was cheating on him) and went to get tested, only he was too impatient to wait the two weeks for the results. So he got a friend to prescribe him antibiotics for chlamydia and gonorrhoea (I have no idea who he knows that has access to that kind of shit). His ‘symptoms’ cleared up soon afterwards and when his test results came back from the clinic they were negative. But that didn’t stop him from using his fictional STD as solid evidence that I’d been unfaithful and using it to justify a tirade of abuse against me the other night.

None of this actually matters anymore because right now all I can feel is relief. 1) That I don’t have an STD, and 2) That just at the point where I was starting to question whether breaking up with JE was for the best, he proved to me what an unhinged asshole he is. I texted him “Goodbye” before deleting his number for good and poured myself a large glass of wine to celebrate.

And besides, I have another date with T. to look forward to this weekend ;)

Oh shit. I think I have an STD.

30 Oct

I’m so angry I have to write this down. Today a package arrived from Jealous Ex, with the wallet I left in his car three months ago, before I knew that would be the last time I saw him because he would dump me over the phone the day after I got back from holiday.

(Actually the package was from my former flatmate in Bristol, who’d posted it after JE dropped it off at my old flat because he couldn’t be bothered to post it himself. This is probably not relevant though.)

Anyway I texted JE to say thanks for dropping it off finally. And because I was still feeling bad that we never got to say a proper goodbye and had been arguing a lot towards the end, mostly because he was obsessed with the idea I’d been cheating on him, I sent him what I thought was a nice lets-get-some-closure-now text. Notice how I apologise even though I did nothing wrong because I’m trying to offer an olive branch. The very same one I’d like to crack over his head at this moment.

“I’m sorry it ended so badly with us. I hope if our paths ever cross again at some point we can be friendly. After all, we had some good times too! Bye x”

What I received back can only be described as a barrage of abuse, beginning with the line: “You’re so proud and so stubborn. I loved you and would have done anything for you. But you still went ahead and fucked me around.”

There it is. He still thinks I cheated on him, even though I never did and there is nothing to suggest otherwise.

I text back: “No need to be mean. I did love you too & if you believe that you’ll know I never fucked you around because I’m not that kind of girl.”

And get this: “You are a compulsive liar! You gave me an STD you fucking lack wit!”

At which point three things flash into my head:
1) Shit. I might have an STD.
2) Which one?
3) If I didn’t cheat on him (and I definitely didn’t) that means he must have cheated on ME.

There’s only one explanation I can think of. When JE and I broke up briefly at the beginning of the year, because he made me cry on my birthday by being an utter arse, he then went and slept with someone else. So maybe she gave him an STD, which means he probably passed it to me. I don’t have any symptoms, although I know with chlamydia there sometimes aren’t any. I’ve never even had crabs before. I’m freaking out a bit right now.

Actually, there is another possible explanation. JE is making the whole thing up because freaking me out is exactly what he wants to do. This hypotheses is strengthened by the fact that he won’t tell me what the alleged STD is because “why should I tell you the truth when you have never offered me the same courtesy. You lie all the time!!! See where it gets you…? I know you cheated on me. I hope it was worth it…”

Luckily my sister just happens to be a sexual health advisor and has kitted me out with a free chlamydia test where you just pee in a bottle and stick in in the post (after putting it in a sealed envelope first, of course). Her opinion is that JE is a psychotic jealous liar, which I’m inclined to agree with, although I’m going to get tested at the GUM clinic after work just in case. I’m still seeing T. in London every other weekend or so and thank God we’re using condoms, apart from recently when one broke and I had to get the morning-after pill. I’m going to wait for the test result before I mention anything to him.

If JE discovered he had an STD and didn’t warn me to get checked out that’s so fucked up and irresponsible I can’t even comprehend it. And if he’s lying, that’s just as bad. I can’t believe he’s being so nasty.

But really, it’s time for a reality check. Step away from the rose-tinted glasses. He was like this for pretty much our whole realtionship.

The last text I sent him read: “Thanks for being such a dick. I was actually starting to miss you.”

I get the break-up blues

3 Oct

I can’t find my favourite coat. It’s a navy blue duffle coat with wooden togs and I wear it all the time, or at least I did before I lost it. I’ve asked around my family and friends but no one has seen it. And so, as a last resort, I text my ex.

“Hi, did I by any chance leave a navy duffle coat at your house? Cant find it anywhere! Hope things are good with you x”

An hour later he texts back: “Oh hello. I know the coat you mean, but it isn’t here. I hope things are good with you too! x”

But I want to know more. I want to know how his new job is going and if he ever managed to pass his degree (after failing it twice). I want to know if his annoying housemate ever moved out and I want to tell him some of the things about my holiday that I’d been looking forward to sharing when I was away, but then never did because he dumped me right out of the blue. I don’t want the the last time we ever see each other to be when he was driving in circles around the centre of Birmingham and I was in the passenger seat in tears because my airport transfer was set to leave in less than two minutes and we couldn’t find the bus stop because he refused to use the bloody satnav.

So I text back: “Ahh that’s too bad, I think it’s lost :( I have a couple of your books and a t-shirt that I can drop round next time I’m in Bristol if you like?”

To which he replies: “No it’s ok, take them to a charity shop if you don’t want them. Take care x”

I hate that phrase “take care”. It always sounds so much more final than “goodbye”. It’s what people always say when they know they’re never going to see you again.

And now I feel unexpectedly very sad. Not because I think we made a good couple, because we most definitely did not. I feel sad because we never got to say a proper goodbye. My sister thinks that it’s a bad idea and that if I saw him again we’d just end up sleeping together or arguing, or both. She’s probably right. But even so, I find it hard to accept that always when a relationship ends there’s never a chance to say all of the things you really want to say.
Like, I actually never cheated on you.
And, I think you need therapy for your jealousy issues.
And, do you KNOW how many times I paid for dinner?

Even so, I should probably stop sleeping in his old t-shirt.

I get dumped – for NOT being unfaithful

2 Sep

“I’ve been kind of dreading this call,” he said.

I groaned. But hadn’t I seen it coming? Hadn’t I been mentally rehearsing my break-up speech on the 12-hour flight home from Sri Lanka only a day earlier? Had I bought him a sweet but inexpensive souvenir gift that I could easily palm off on somebody else just in case we split up? Hadn’t I spilled my guts out to my friends on holiday about how his jealous streak was out of control, Continue reading

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