That thing between life and death…what a bitch!

These are the words of a text I received from The Ex today. What a headfucker of a day. At 4.15am, my phone buzzed and woke me up – which doesn’t often happen. It was a text from my Ex (a particularly boisterous text) followed by another asking for me to call him. I replied, asking if his text was meant for me. No, was the reply. Fair enough. I turned around to fall back asleep, and then my phone rang. What followed was a 3 hour conversation.

We covered a lot of ground. Initially, he was calling because a mutual friend of ours (ish) had told him I was doing coke, sleeping with his friends etc etc. I know who he was talking about and I don’t understand why she’s saying this. I haven’t done coke. I tried a little on my gums on a night out with Mr Music because I wanted to know what the fuss was about. It was disgusting. And I’d told my friend this while we were talking about coke in general. As for me sleeping with his mates, well. I haven’t! One of them tried it on with me, twice, but I said no. Furthermore, the friend of his who tried it on is now sleeping with the friend whose been stirring shit. Lastly, I wouldn’t dip into that genetically inbred pool if you paid me. So, of course, I told him all this. He said he believed me, he just couldn’t understand why she was saying these things. The conversation then covered our relationship, our new relationships and everything in between.

The worst thing he said, was that this time last year, when I was begging and dying for him to take me back, he said no because he didn’t want to feel like I was doing it out of pity for him and the way he acted when I left him. He wanted me to take the time to really think about what I wanted, but that he did want to get back together. That hurt. A lot. I don’t know how I could have made it any clearer that I wanted him back. When he left me crying until I thought I’d vomit up my insides, twice. When I’d call and text and call and text. I don’t understand how he could have thought it was pity. He said saying no was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. I felt incredibly sad and I told him that. Throughout our relationship he could be the master manipulator. He could pull anyone’s strings and have them marching to the beat of his drum. But there’d be times he’d do things and I wouldn’t understand why. He used to tell me he wanted me to figure out the reasons why instead of him telling me. He said, that there were certain things in life that he didn’t want to influence people over, so he would do things without explanation to make them think about why he was doing what he was doing. And if that sounds complicated, it’s because it was. I don’t know how many times I’d told him while we were together not to do this. I could never figure it out and it inevitably led to arguments. It seems that him rejecting me, almost a year ago to the day, was borne out of the same idea. He said he wanted me to want to be with him (which he would know was for real after a period of absence), and make that want known, followed by ‘hint, hint, nudge, nudge’. He said there was one point when we’d met and I was so upset, but I still couldn’t tell him I wanted to come back. And that even now, he knows I wouldn’t be able to say that, even if that’s what I still wanted because I’m that stubborn.

It was a hard conversation. Very emotional, very deep. Despite that, we still laughed like we were old friends. He told me I sounded strong and sexy, like the 17 year old girl he fell in love with and not the 27 year old woman who left. He told me he wanted me to give 100% of myself to the next guy, like I didn’t with him. And for his part, he told me about what he’s been up to. About his relief at easily being able to make a woman come in bed, which he did maybe three or four times with me, though not through lack of trying. In fairness, his new girlfriend sounds nice  enough. It sounds like she’s giving him everything he wants and was never able to get from me. We spoke about friends we used to hang out with. His best friend (who’s friends with Gym Buddy and the reason we met in the first place) is back with his girlfriend. When they were together, we all used to hang out. I really liked her and then when they split (in a particularly nasty fashion), I never heard from her again. I actually contacted her again this year and we swapped a couple of emails before she dropped off again. Turns out they’re back together now after being apart for a couple of years and expecting a baby. I don’t know why but that news really got to me. In my head, we were always going to be the ones to do that first. We were always the couple our friends used to talk about as the pinnacle of what relationships were. Hard, yes, but solid. Which was the case for many years. We were meant to get married first, have kids first. Now, that’s happening to them instead of us. He said the same thing, that I was meant to be the grandmother of his grandchildren and now that’s not going to happen. In the end, he started to get upset and said he had to go, at 7.30am.

I was confused. I was tearful and I was sad. He was such a huge part of my life for so long and I couldn’t understand, why now? Why are you telling me this now? We’ve had comms throughout the year, it’s not like this was the first time we’d spoken since the split. We ended up texting until around midday. What have I deduced from this?

He feels regret. He says he thinks he loves his new girlfriend, but she isn’t me. I almost felt like sending him the link to my post about moving on. He said he felt like he’d ruined me and it had been playing on his mind for a long time. That he felt I’d become someone else as a result of what went on during our relationship. To be honest, I think he felt guilt. He’s really into his new girlfriend but it isn’t the same. He said that a lot. The sex is great, but it’s not you. She’s very reactive, but she’s not you. She’s great, but she’s not you. I told him that of course it’s not the same. It’s not meant to be. But if he really likes her then he owes it to her and himself to really try, instead of holding onto memories of what we had. He said he’s learned a lot from our break up (though he’s still on the coke??) and he understands why I left. He doesn’t want me to only tell people about the bad times because he has apparently never badmouthed me. To his friends, to his new girlfriend. It sounded a lot like a case of ‘what could have been’. ‘If only’. If only he hadn’t of played this mind game with me last year. If only I’d have tried for one more week to get him back. He sounded like he didn’t know what he wanted. He said he didn’t know what he wanted. Distracted by memories and nostalgia and I told him that it wasn’t fair to put me through this just because of those two things. He replied by saying he thinks he knows what he wants, he just hadn’t properly dealt with things until today. And knowing that I’m happy makes that easier. I’ll always be the love of his life and even though he’s old school and therefore bound to hate The Frenchman or anyone else, he’s also an adult and wants me to be happy.

By the time we said our goodbyes, I felt a bit better. It felt like he just needed to talk some things out and figure things out in his head. And although I shouldn’t be the person he goes to for that, I can’t deny it was nice to talk to him again. Our break up was hard and messy, but the comms we’ve had since then have been friendly enough. After ten years, of course I care about him. Of course I want him to be happy. He’s such a strong person, I know how much it takes for him to talk about his deep feelings, let alone cry. It goes against everything he was brought up to believe, so I knew how much he needed to talk last night.

It’s left me unfocused and with a headache. My trip to the National Gallery turned out to be a waste of time because I couldn’t focus on anything at all. Not because I’m confused about my feelings, or anything like that, but because I’ve been left with this feeling that I can’t describe. This feeling of…..this. I have to agree with his text. Life is a bitch and full of what ifs and regrets. But I do know that this year I’ve been happy. I can’t lay my unhappiness all on him – I know I could have done things differently to make myself happy – but I wouldn’t have done even a quarter of the things I’ve done this year if we’d have got back together. And it’s only after I’ve done said thing that I realise how much I’ve changed since I left. Or reverted back to my old self.

But I still can’t help the feeling that all of this shouldn’t have happened. And because of a massive case of crossed wires, miscommunications etc, it has. And that is such a shame.

A little bit of this and that

Hmm yes, it’s been a while since my last post hasn’t it? Fear not, I’ll update shortly. In the meantime, here are some beautifully inspiring words…at the risk of sounding a bit poncy

image

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
– William Yeats

Love in all its forms…

French is apparently a ‘romance’ language. Which doesn’t actually mean much to do with romance in that context but it’s fitting for this post.


I got an email from The Frenchman earlier this evening, in which he signed off “bisous de ton petit Francais qui t’adore’ which means, ‘kisses from your little Frenchman who loves you.”

The ‘little’ made me laugh because he’s definitely not that and when I read the sentence, I did a happy dance. But then…

I’m sure 99% of people have heard of the phrase “Je t’aime” at least because of some song that was practically pornographic back in the day. Usually, in films and the like, “Je t’aime” is the way to say ‘I love you.’ As in, ‘I’m in love with you.’ So what the hell does “je t’adore” mean? The results I’ve found are pretty inconclusive. Even amongst French natives. Some think “je t’aime” is stronger than “je t’adore” regardless of the fact that ‘aimer’ means to like and ‘adore’ means to love.

I can tell you one thing. After 5 months of learning French, the biggest thing I’ve learned is that even they don’t really understand their language! Things are just the way they are – having one word with a gazillion different meanings is just one example. Regardless, I’m going to revel in this. It looks like things are moving in the right direction, regardless of what the EXACT translation is.

The end result is that I’m smiling. Which is definitely a good thing 😀

 

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.’

My One Year Anniversary

Today I’m celebrating an anniversary of sorts. It’s a year since I left my boyfriend of 9 and a half years. I can’t really celebrate a proper year of singledom since things were very tumultous until the end of December but still, it’s a milestone.

Thinking back on the things I’ve done in the last twelve months, and the things I have to look forward to, is nuts. Aside from the male related activities I’ve enjoyed, I’ve reconnected with old friends, had a fabulous weekend away, started to learn a new language, learned to enjoy my own company, had fabulous nights out, got a step closer to
having my book published and generally had lots amd lots of fun. A
year ago, I’d have said the next year of my life would be much the same as it was then, which was OK. I didn’t realise how much I’d settled for. And now I think, what if I’d have stayed? I’d possibly be a mum, or pregnant. I’d no doubt still be angry at coming second to class A narcotics and I’d think that it was the way the rest of my
life would pan out.

Thank fuck I’m out of that.

I’m not going to deny the months after the break up were hard – at times I literally wanted to die – but now I can actually look back and say I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I made the right choice. I’ve got so much to look forward to. Marseilles, Ibiza, Glastonbury, spending more time with my friends and making lots of new memories along the way. And even better, I know what I want out of a
relationship now, and I know what I absolutely will not settle for.

I have to say a massive, massive thank you to my friends: Miss Sunshine, Miss Yoyo, Miss America and Miss Comeback for their words of advice and support over the past 12 months. I love you all.

Time flies when you’re having fun 😉

5 Things Men Don’t Understand About Women

I’m genuinely perplexed about this. I have no idea why this thought popped into my head today, it’s random, I know. It’s common knowledge that men just don’t get women and, here’s a newsflash, we don’t always get you either! But really, what is it that guys don’t get? I’ve done some research (not really anything that could substantiate a government grant or anything) and here are the most common things that came back:

  • Mood Swings

It’s no secret that us girlies are homornal beings and PMS is just a small part of it. We women are very ‘feelings’ led, but here’s a tip. Don’t draw attention to it because that will only make it worse. You may have a woman who knows she’s prone to extreme mood swings, especially around her period, or you might have someone who is adamant they don’t suffer from it (like me). Don’t moan at her, just grin and bear it – it’s not a permanent affliction (in most cases). The fact is, a boyfriend is the only person to vent to. Most women, for some unknown reason, sync their periods with their closest friends and female family members. No way are we going to vent to them when they’re undoubtedly suffering too, we’re far too conscientious for that! When your woman is pouting, give her a kiss. Make her a cup of tea. Pass on a random act of kindness and you’ll probably find your Ice Queen will melt.

  • Why We Don’t Like Other Girls

The honest truth? Girls are bitches. They all think they’re something special and they’ll all talk about each other once backs are turned. Apart from us and our friends, obviously. All of my closest friends were people I didn’t like at first. Hated on sight even. For me anyway, a girl has to prove herself if she’s going to be my friend. If you’re a guy and you have a close girl-friend, then please don’t throw your toys out of the pram when your new missus says or acts like she doesn’t like her. It may or may not be about feeling threatened, but it will almost certainly be about the fact that there’s a new girl on the block and it’s exhausting when you have to go through the rigmarole of trying to find common ground with someone who’s undoubtedly a bitch inside. It doesn’t matter if she’s an out and out bitch or the kind of girl who’s nice and smiley and will always be the one to buy a massive bag of posh crisps in a pub, open them and get everyone else to dig in while she natters away and ‘forgets’ to eat any herself (note, these are the worst kind of girls) because she’ll be a bitch too. This is why we keep our friends extremely close, because good girlfriends are bloody hard to find.

  • Why We Always Skirt Around An Issue

In other words, why we don’t say what we mean. We do say what we mean. You’re just not hearing us right. We don’t want to have to spell something out every single time. So when we say ‘God, I really need a holiday. A weekend away would be such a nice idea, don’t you think?’ we mean ‘I need a holiday. Why don’t you look at something and book it’. Note that I’m not saying you should be spending all your money and whisking us away. It’s not a problem to go halves, it’s the act of a man listening to how we feel and interpreting it properly that we want. There’s no denying men and women communicate differently and there are times when a woman will say exactly what she means, it’s just that this usually happens when she gets fed up of her man not interpreting her correctly and has a mood swing (see above). The only way around this is to actually listen to what she’s saying.

  • Why We Dissect Everything

It’s how we women bond. That image of a group of girls sitting around talking for an hour about what that one word text really meant is not a myth. I’ve seen and done it, many times. We know deep down that if we’ve asked a guy if he loves us (which is a bit of a sin really, but for arguments sake let’s just go with it) and he says ‘yeah’, then he means it. From what I gather, men are simple creatures. But we will still go over what he said. What tone of voice did he use? Did he shrug when he said it? Does he act like he loves me? Why doesn’t he love me? And so it goes. Girls bond by sharing stories and sounding out the other girls who think the same way we do (see above post about bitchy girls). Nine times out of ten, we don’t actually want a solution, we just want to talk. It works with you guys too. When we whinge for an hour about how badly our witch of a boss treats us at work, we’re not asking for you to actually do anything about it, we just need to vent. Now, I get that guys like to fix things, but it’s not what we want. Just listen, or at least look like you are. When we want you to fix something, we’ll say ‘can you fix the cupboard door’. It might sound like ‘that cupboard door looks like it might need fixing’ (see above), but it’s the same thing. It’s our way of getting close to you. The ‘what are you thinking line’ is used because we want to know what’s in your head and why it’s there. Embrace it, because it’s somthing that makes us females female, and you love us for it. Or you should.

  • Why We’re So Insecure

I’m not even going to pretend that we’re not or that guys don’t get insecure either because they do. However, it is universally acknowledged that girls suffer from this way more than guys. Yes, everyone has insecurities – they don’t like their nose, feet, boobs, whatever. With women, it’s a much more complex thing, especially when it comes to insecurities about what your boyfriend/husband/significant other likes in relation to what we have. We’re not stupid, we know that you love our bum, boobs and slightly rounded bellies. We know that in reality, you’d rather be cuddled up to us than some page 3 stunner but like I said above – it’s about the competition. As men get older, they seem to get hotter. It seldom works this way for women. We have kids, things droop and sag. Hairs start sprouting from random places, cellulite becomes permanent, the list goes on. Whilst you as the guy might think they just add to some kind of earthy sexiness about your woman, it will still prey on her mind. There’s always going to be some young, lithe, pert boobed whippersnapper eyeing up her hubby because, as I said, men get better with age. Even those of us who aren’t saggy or hairy yet think this. It’s all about the competition. Guys might think they reassure their women enough, but do you really? Do you ever actually tell her how much you love her un-flat belly, whether it’s stretchmarked or not? It’s not a difficult thing to do. That’s one thing my ex was very good at, and you’d be surprised at how much of a difference it makes. Want to get your missus to ride you like a bull? She wont if she thinks she has cow udders for boobs and  a belly bigger than yours. Tell her you find her sexy, all of her, and in short space of time, she’ll actually begin to hear it. She wants to know that despite the toned, bouncy boobed secretary you have, you’d rather be getting naughty with her. Warts and all.

Like I said, we’re not that complicated (hehe). All it takes is a little effort to yield results. And yes, I know it works both ways, so I may do a reverse post later in the week. I’ve only picked 5 things, but I’m sure there’s a whole host more…

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.