Bloody Exes.
Nine weeks ago I was the best thing since sliced bread, the nicest girl in the world, so special, no one else has ever made him feel this way.
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Self Portrait</center>
Eight Weeks ago he needed some space.
Seven Weeks ago he didn't want a relationship
Six weeks ago he never wanted to speak to me ever again
Five weeks ago he vanished into thin air, switched his phone off, ignored my texts.
Four weeks ago I gave up trying.
Ben Stein
The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want.
I made my choice.
It wasn't a nice choice, it wasn't what I really wanted but sometimes what you want isn't the same as what someone else wants and if they don't want you then what can you do?
Still, it was a decision and it finalised the situation.
I'd have waited for as long as it took but I wasn't prepared to be walked all over so that was that. Finished, all done and dusted. I'd finally seen my ex for the muppet he really is.
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****head boyfriend</center>
*giggles* If he ever see's this he really will flip!
But that's not the point.
For the last few weeks I've been putting myself back together, clearing up the mess he left me in, sorting my head out and just generally getting my sparkle back.
It was a mission but I did it.
Three weeks ago I packed his stuff, sorted my flat out, paid my bills, resigned myself to being skint for the next month and rediscoverd my playstation.
Two weeks ago I started going out on the town again.
One week ago I stopped feeling lonely.
12 hours ago I got a text message.
Ex-boyf
I'm sorry for being a s**t to you. Over all we were frineds and I'm sorry I forgot that. I know it's 3am but when you have a moment of clarity you just have to share. I'll come and see you tomorrow if that's ok. x
Dammitdammitdammit!
Now I'm all confused again!
It's not good enough that I wanted to keep things friendly, it's not me ignoring the calls and spreading the rumours and generally being a s**t. It's not me who's dictated where and when I'm allowed to speak to him, made it hard to be friendly, lied, bitched and embarrased.
But now it's ok for me to be his friend because he's changed his mind, it's ok for me to drop every thing and forget the last two months ever happened. It's ok for me to ignore the fact that he broke my heart and pretend like it's all ok.
Something is telling me that this situation is not at all fair and I'd be an idiot of supreme proportions to even speak to him again. But the inner Pixie just can't be arsed with being cross anymore!
I give in.
Someone's having a laugh and I don't get it.
