Archive | November, 2013

Backwards motion

24 Nov

I had decided I was going to feel a lot better when I got back from holiday. I thought the time away would have put distance between me and the horrible, horrible past few months.

But for some reason I’m unable to stop crying.

When I booked my holiday, I still thought I was going to be living with him by now. After all, that’s what he had planned. I thought – for once – I would be coming home to someone. To the heating turned on. To food in the fridge. To a cuddle.

I came home to an empty flat. Empty fridge. Empty heart.

Sometimes it feels like my life is going backwards.

The Noodle Doodle, SWB, and The Ex

23 Nov

Today I was thinking about all my exes. And it dawned on me that the only guys I have been really, really into have all been very similar. What’s more, they all rejected me. There were other guys along the way, but the three that stick in my mind and who I still long for are The Noodle Doodle, SWB, and my current ex.

The Noodle Doodle was much ado about nothing, really. Not even properly an ex. When I was working in New York (nearly five years ago which makes me feel very old), I got an email on a UK dating site from this guy who seemed just perfect. Tall, handsome, a lawyer, loved dogs, played the guitar, lived near me in London. I was only going to be in New York for three months so… We started emailing every day, talking on msn every day, we started talking on the phone. I was in love.

He told me everything I wanted to hear. I couldn’t wait to get back to London and finally meet him. Which I did, a few days after arriving back in the UK. Our first date was fabulous. We kissed a lot. We arranged to go out again that Saturday. On the Saturday he stood me up. A week later his best friend came with us on our second date. Which was weird. I went back to his that night (The Noodle Doodle, not the best friend), and there was a lot of kissing and touching, but no sex. When I left the next morning I just knew I was never going to see him again. And, indeed, he stopped replying to emails, texts, etc. Yup, he had just been using me. But he was so intelligent, so sexually grrrrrrr, so confident.

Why was The Noodle Doodle called The Noodle Doodle? Long story involving his last name and the fact that he sent me a picture of his penis for my birthday. Charming. I know.

Then there was SWB. The Secret Work Boyfriend. We had worked together for a couple of years. I always fancied him, but he was in a long-term relationship. Until he wasn’t. He accidentally saw a text I had sent my friend which alluded to the fact I liked him, and he called and asked me out.

On our first date he was so shy. We both drank about sixteen vodkas before finally agreeing that we were rubbish at this and just getting on with all the kissing. But over the next three months, as I grew more and more into him, I felt him losing interest. He got frustrated with my opinions on things. He didn’t want anyone at work to know about our relationship. Finally, I had to ask if he wanted to break up with me after he ignored me for a week. We worked about ten steps from one another. It was kind of awkward.

I was so upset. It was right before Christmas! And he was so intelligent, so sexually grrrrrrr, so confident.

And then my current ex. Again, so intelligent, so sexually grrrrrr, so confident.

These are the guys I lose my mind over. These are the guys I am drawn to. So, I’m kind of screwed, because these guys are all not just confident: they’re arrogant. They send photos of their penises, ignore you in an office of thirty people, and eat pizza before ending the relationship you thought was going to lead to marriage.

Next time around I’ll take intelligent and sexually grrrrrr without the side order of arrogance.

And a little warning would be great before opening pornographic images on my work computer.

Hell. Yes. My year is looking up.

23 Nov

Guess who just got upgraded to first class for an eight-hour flight to London?

This girl did.

I am sitting in the first-class lounge, unable to decide which snacks to eat and drinks to drink. Kind of a mystery as to why they upgraded the girl in shorts, t-shirt and flip flops, but I’m not complaining.

Bring on the champagne.

Moving on (in baby steps)

22 Nov

I fly home tomorrow night.

I’m not sure what to make of this holiday. In the end, it was relaxing. But it also gave me a lot of time with my own thoughts. Too much, maybe. Or maybe just enough to start to process things.

The hurt still feels like a burn right through me. I still miss him. But, for goodness sakes, it’s been nearly four months. There must be an end in sight.

Meanwhile, I will confess to you, my blogger buddies, that I have been chatting to someone from eharmony.

Although I haven’t been “using” the site, I was checking up on who had checked me out every day. This was – blatantly – for a little ego boost. Anyway, this guy emailed me, let’s call him B. And he seemed really nice. Like, really nice.

We messaged back and forth a few times. At the start of my holiday when I felt super down, I didn’t respond for a few days. This was following an mail from him in which he teased me about being Scottish. I did not mind the teasing. I would rather not be Scottish.

Anyway, after I didn’t respond, he emailed apologising for being offensive about Scottish people. Which I thought was kind of charming, and I replied. Now he has asked if I want to meet up next week.

Next week is actually crazy busy with seeing friends, counsellor, pilates, so I’m going to suggest the week after.

Am I crazy? Is this a disaster waiting to happen?

I keep reminding myself that in my lifetime I have been on maybe sixty online dates and only two of them turned into second dates – one of which was the ex, the other was The Noodle Doodle (more about him another time).

I also keep reminding myself that I cry a lot these days.

A great day to be alive

21 Nov


I had a blissful day. Just look at how it started. A chilled red velvet latte on the beach. Could a girl ask for anything more?

(By the way, no trouble getting parked at the beach, but serious issues getting parked at Dunkin Donuts. I’m not surprised. Those guys really know what they are doing with sugar and caffeine.)

Anyway. I digress.

I heard a couple of old men talking on the beach. One said to the other, “Another great day to be alive.”

For the first time in a very long time, I’ve got to agree.

And you can have this heart to break

20 Nov

If something good has come from the pizza of doom (other than the weight loss and new appreciation for fantastically depressing music) it’s you, my blogger buddies.

I check WordPress several times a day. Sometimes your stories make me smile. Sometimes they make me sad. And sometimes I get mad as hell at some of the things your exes have done to you. I’m pretty loyal. Your exes appall me.

But, despite this, I do understand.

There are things my ex did that, looking back, I’m ashamed that I put up with. Being told it would be “healthier for our relationship” if we had no contact whenever I had PMS. Not great. Being told off for getting grass on his hardwood floors, when he had already trampled paint into my white carpets. Grrrrr. Being told he was, “never in love” with me. Ouch. The fact that he ate that f***ing pizza. Despite all this, I still love him and think about him all the time. I long for him. I miss him. I don’t know how to move on from him.

The dude who eats a pizza before breaking my heart.

Yes, that dude.

It’s something my counsellor brought up with me. That I was so in love with him, he could have done anything. I made myself completely vulnerable.

There’s a line in an old Billy Joel song, “And you can have this heart to break”.

My heart was his.

But does this make me stupid or weak or silly or naive? No. It does not. I got unlucky. I shouldn’t have trusted him. But, to make a relationship work, I think you have to give your all. To make it worthwhile you certainly do. You have to give your heart. Yes, the risk is there, but so is the promise.

I know that I feel things wildly. I’ve done Myers Briggs and other personality tests. I come out with a crazy tendency towards ‘feeling’. But that’s what will make me the best thing to ever happen to someone. One day.

So, to all you lovely people who have been through sh**, put up with sh**, been treated like sh**, and are still head-over-heels for the person dispensing the sh**, I get it. I’ll keep on feeling mad on your behalf, but I get it.

Because I still love him.

Even after he ate the pizza.

Me vs. the Universe

19 Nov

This is actually starting to get pretty funny. The love of my life breaks my heart just before I start a new job, and I keep going keep going keep going til I reach my holiday.

On holiday:
– I have a cold that will not shift
– I get migraines every other day
– My wisdom tooth starts hurting me
– I get sunburnt

This afternoon my cold felt better and I went to lie by the pool. I felt something tickling my hip, put my hand down to investigate, and promptly got stung by a bee. True story.

I headed back to the apartment to sit on the balcony and enjoy a Sam Adams. As I picked up my glass, it slipped from my hand and spilt beer everywhere.

Oh, Universe. What else have you got in store for me in 2013?

Whatever it is, bring it on.

What will it take to get over my ex?

18 Nov

I’m kind of mad at myself. I am ruining my own holiday. I am thinking about him constantly. And I don’t know how to turn it off.

I’m here with my parents who clearly think, after nearly four months, I must be OK. They are very much of the ‘suck it up and get on with your life’ school of thought. I’ve tried to bring it up a few times, commenting on how shot my immune system is because I haven’t slept since July, telling them I am really not that interested in Christmas because I’m just a spare part hanging around my sister’s family, and even (last night) saying that 2013 has been the worst year of my life. On all accounts, no comment.

It’s not that they don’t care. They were actually great when it all happened. I just don’t think they have any experience or comprehension of this kind of thing. My sister is perfectly married with kids. I’m the emotional nut job with nobody.

But I don’t like the fact I can feel myself reverting back to being a surly teenager (I was a horrible teenager), when I’m 31.

I just don’t know how to snap out of it. I don’t know what will ever make me feel OK.

I have a good job.

I have a lovely flat filled with lovely things.

I have gorgeous, wonderful friends.

I have a nice family who are just the right amount of crazy.

I have my health. Usually I am superhero healthy, it’s just recently that I’m constantly ill.

I have great hair.

But, honestly, a lot of the time I feel like there’s no point to my life. And I feel bad saying that because I know how many people are so much worse off than me. Also I sound so embarrassingly dramatic (I told you I’m reverting to my teenage self, next thing you know I’ll be dressing like a Spice Girl).

I just wonder what it’s going to take to feel good again.

Unlike my teenage self, I’m going to canvass opinion. So, blogger buddies, any ideas?

Silly me

17 Nov

Apparently I misunderstood when you said that you loved me.

Clearly I got the wrong impression when you told me you’d never felt his way about anyone.

Obviously I got my wires crossed when you said you’d hate to ever do anything to mess this up.

And I had it wrong when you said – again and again – that you wanted me to move in. That we’d have two kids. And grow old together.

I must have misheard when you said you’d spent your whole life looking for me, and would never ever let me go.

My mistake.

Jennifer Aniston

16 Nov

In some of my darkest moments (and there are many, even when on holiday in Florida), I think about Jennifer Aniston.

I think about what a sh** time she’s had with love. What an arsehole Brad Pitt is. And how angry she must be about that episode of Friends he was in. The Thanksgiving one. Personally, it’s a favourite. But I reckon Jen probably can’t watch it back.

At least I don’t have Angelina Jolie to contend with.