Delusion and moving on

I just had a hilarious telephone conversation with the girlfriend of my Ex’s best friend. Apparently he went round there and told them that  I’d texted him to go for a drink but he said no because he was convinced I wanted him back. Don’t make me laugh. I had texted in the early summer and asked if he wanted to go for a drink after our conversation, purely because I thought even though we weren’t together any more, we had spent almost ten years together and still evidently cared for each other. We didn’t meet up but it was no skin off my nose. So he’s told them he thinks I want to get back together with him and that I must still be miserable having made the biggest mistake of my life by leaving him. Oh and he was bitching because I went to Ibiza after having said I’d never go there, ever, and why couldn’t I have done that with him?

I had to laugh. Getting back with him has to be the very last thing on my mind and I don’t know where he’s getting the impression that I’m miserable. When I do see him, I’m always bouncy and happy, and that’s not fake. I am genuinely loving my life and having him in it as a friend, or not, makes no difference to me. I went to Ibiza without him because if I’d have gone with him, he’d have spent 90% of the time high. And as for me making the biggest mistake of my life by leaving, considering he’s still in exactly the same place as he was a year, two years, three years ago, I’d say it was the best thing I’ve ever done. When I look at what I’ve done this year – the nights out, my trips to Ireland, Ibiza and Toulouse, even taking my first flight alone – I feel proud. I’m actually living my life instead of watching it pass me by, whereas he is still wasting his weekends away with a cocktail of drugs. The fact that he’s still doing this, coupled with the fact he thinks I’m the one who made the mistake, tells me he’s learned nothing. Zero. Zilch. I can imagine he’s done nothing more exciting than try meth for the first time.

He has, at least, moved on. When I blogged about his ketamine and meth usage earlier in the year, I mentioned that he’d been sleeping with his drug buddy’s sister. It now seems they’re actually a couple. She does cocaine too, which is obviously not a good thing, but I’m happy for him. It makes no bearing on my life to know this and I do still care about his happiness after all. I will admit to being a bit miffed when she told me he apparently said he wanted to marry and have kids with her though. Not out of jealousy, but because I thought ‘why not me?’. Obviously, getting married and having kids with him would have been a colossal mistake, but I put in so much bloody effort with him. Ten years of battling the ignorance, underlying racism and non-acceptance from some of his family, putting up with his drug use, running errands like a bitch and being a good little housewife, and after a few months with his new chick, he’s actually thinking of settling down. It made me feel second best until I realised that it’s probably because it’s so much easier for him. His Kosovan family will love her white-ness and because she uses drugs too, she’s always going to be on his wavelength and understand the chase and the buzz of getting off her face. And if that is the  case then good luck to him, I guess.

The fact is, I know now that I deserve so, so much more than what I got. I deserve someone who will put me first, instead of being domineering and chauvinistic. I deserve someone who’d do anything for me, the same way I would for them. And I want a guy who isn’t an habitual drug taker. I’m not the same girl. To put it in Gotye’s words, I’m just somebody that he used to know.

After all the heartache, ups and downs and questioning if I made the right move by leaving, I’ve moved on. I’m happy, which is just about all I could ask for right now. I’m enjoying my life and learning from my mistakes all the time. And I can honestly say that leaving him wasn’t one of them. If anything, my mistake was staying in the relationship and trying to make it work for so long. If he ever comes out of his drugged up haze and off his know-it-all high horse, he’ll realise that.

As someone once said, ‘I’m not the girl that got away. I’m the girl you failed to keep.’

Coke, K-Holes and Meth. A downward spiral…

So, I was going to write about my encounter with Mr Soldier, but that will have to wait. I’ve just got off the phone to my ex’s best friend’s girlfriend (keep up!). Fortunately for me, she’s had a couple of glasses of vino and her tongue was a bit loose. Turns out, my ex has now progressed from Coke to Ketamine and, wait for it, crystal meth. WTF.

Maybe I was naive but there were certain drugs I was positive he’d never try. I mean, horse tranquilisers? Really? He’d always made noise about them being dirty drugs, but now he’s talking about being in a ‘K-hole’ and bragging about taking meth. I had no idea what a K-Hole was, so I had to Google it. Suffice to say, it sounded like the usual out of body, psychedelic trip associated with hallucinogens. As for the meth…well…I’ve seen enough pictures of meth heads to know what that does.

He has a drugs buddy, a woman I’ve known about for a while and apparently he’s spending weekends holed up at hers, getting off his face and sleeping with her sister – who he’s termed his K-Whore.

My head is reeling a bit. He has an addictive personality anyway and I know what he’s like. He has no limits when it comes to drugs or alcohol. He can keep going til the end, and what will his end be? An overdose on a cocktail of Class A drugs? A coma? A heart attack? What scares me most is that he knows what he’s doing is wrong. He knows its killed his relationship and is eating away at his money. But yet he continues, which says to me that something drastic is going to have to happen for him to snap out of it because he’s not the kind of person that will get bored and decide to get back on the straight and narrow.

I’m trying not to think the worst. I saw him on the way to work the other day and he looked normal. Maybe he does have it all under control. But part of me wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake the living daylights out of him. We may not be together any more but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. The worst thing is knowing that with him, there are no limits. He’ll always chase the unattainable and push himself as far as he can. The only thing I can do is pray for him, and I’m really not that religious. I just hope he finds his way before he really finds himself in a bind.

The Ex-Factor

So I received a text from my ex a little while ago. Given that I’d seen him on the way to work yesterday I was kind of expecting it. Turns out, he misses me. Finds it hard to understand life without me etc etc etc. Given that I’d have pretty much sold my soul to get back with him at one point, all I could do was shrug my shoulders. The fact he’s still shovelling coke up his nose and living like a party animal speaks volumes, though apparently its because he feels guilty for it taking over our relationship.

Apparently he thought I looked good yesterday (I didn’t) and reckoned it was because I looked more confident. And you know, maybe that’s because I am. It sounds so cheesy, but I feel like I’ve found myself again, and yes, I am confident. I walk around with a smile on my face and a bounce in my step. It would appear that I’m finding this altogether easier than he is.

A month ago, I’d have read into his text messages, thinking, maybe he wants me back. But now, I know better. He’s feeling lonely and has caught a glimpse of me at my best and now he’s thinking about the good times we had together. Nothing more and nothing less. Like I said yesterday, I change my mind more than most girls change their knickers, but I’m not changing my mind on this. Because the fact is, if he loved me, and I mean really loved me, and really missed me and wanted to do something about it, he’d have made changes. He’d stop spending obscene amounts of money on Columbia’s finest and sort himself out. He’d put me first for once. And even if he did, I honestly don’t think I’d go back anyway.

I love my life now. I haven’t felt so happy for a sustained period for years. I feel like for the first time in a long time, I’m excited about things. I want to go out and meet people and have fun instead of being cooped up indoors. I don’t want to have to sit up until stupid o’clock while my boyfriend gets off his nut and chats ten to the dozen. I want to live my life the way I want to.

I think some people find it weird that I can be so OK about everything after such a long relationship, but I genuinely am. I’m not big headed, but I know I have a lot of good qualities about me. I have plenty to offer to the right guy. I’m smart, I’m independent, I have a great job and great prospects, and when I love, I love hard, with everything I have. While I’m sad for him having to block out reality through a haze of Class A substances, I’m not going to sacrifice myself for anyone. Love, I’ve discovered, is not the be all and end all, and in a relationship, it’s most definitely not enough on its own.

I devoted almost 10 years to him, I’ll always love him on some level, he was my best friend and I owe him a lot. If I hadn’t met him, I definitely wouldn’t be in the job I’m in now, since he pushed me to study, and I wouldn’t have met my closest friends. But I deserve  a hell of a lot more than I got. All I can say is that I wish him well.