Tag Archives: no contact with ex

Breaking the connections

29 Apr


My keys arrived this morning. Sent from the ex in a package addressed to a friend at work (as requested). Wrapped in tissue. No note. He had already told my friend who was good enough to email and organise the whole thing that he wasn’t putting in a note as he assumed I didn’t want any communication. I wouldn’t have minded a note. I’d have liked an apology.

But the main thing is, I have my keys back.

Just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, I logged onto LinkedIn and saw an update of him connecting with some blonde lawyer girl. My stomach lurched. Clearly this was his new girlfriend. There could be no other explanation, right?

Craziness set in as I came over all Nev from Catfish googling the poor girl on every social network. Turns out she’s married to someone else, so not his girlfriend.

I took this as a sign. It’s time to step back from being mental. I deleted him as a contact on LinkedIn.

There is nothing left connecting us. Nothing at all.

Except the memory of the happiest time in my life. And the pictures in my head of him, our walks in the park, his family, his friends, drinking negronis, kissing (lots), waking up together, blurry Sunday mornings in bed, and that safe, warm feeling of being totally besotted with my life.

And the horrible realisation that is was all fake.

The darkest moments

25 Apr

I’m sat at my desk trying to finish copy that was due hours (well, to be more precise days) ago. I just can’t get my head around it.

Today my lovely friend Kate did me a great favour and emailed the ex. She asked him to send my keys back.

He responded to her. He posted the keys. He said he hoped that I was well. He thanked her for supporting me (what a weird thing to say?).

I’m just adrift with emotions. Part of me is relieved. I’m really trying to think of this as the pulling off of the final plaster. I’m free now. Once I get those keys in my paw, I never have to think about him again.

But I think we all know that it’s just not that easy. The pain is with me every day. The injustice of it all still taunts me. And maybe life just isn’t fair, but it’s a crushing realisation. It hurts. It worries me. It makes me so mad.

I’ve changed a lot in the past nine months. I’m not the person who I used to be. I don’t feel things the way that I used to. I don’t think the way that I used to.

So, if I’m not the same person, why does it feel like I’m going through the same break up all over again?

In my darker moments I hope he’s miserable. I hope he feels like utter sh** this afternoon, and that it rained on him when he went to the post office. And that his shoes got wet. And maybe a dog bit him.

In my darkest moments, I wish I could disappear altogether.

I love Taylor Swift (Part 1)

30 Aug

How does she know what is in my brain?

The whole ‘no contact with the ex’ thing

25 Aug

So. When the pizza of doom happened three weeks ago, I was in shock. He kept saying, “Is there anything you want to ask me? Are you going to be OK? You can call me anytime.” But I couldn’t get him out of my flat fast enough. He turned around at the door, I guess to hug me or something, and I asked him just to leave. I hate that memory.

Yes, I was in shock. But I think some kind of self-preservation thing kicked in. From the moment he said he had something to talk to me about (and it was clear this was not something fun), I knew that any contact we had was going to hurt me. And I cannot take being hurt any more right now. I immediately unfriended him on Facebook and deleted him from my gmail chat contacts too. I don’t need to torture myself by stalking him.

It was a few days before I realised that every website and self-help book wanted me to do just this and have no contact with him. Yay me.

Of course I’ve also been on the websites that say this is the best way to get him back. Boo me.

I haven’t really found it hard to have no contact, though. I miss him like hell. I think about him all the time. Everything reminds me of him. I cry constantly. But I know that any text or email or phone call is going to make me feel even worse. There is nothing he could say that would make this hurt less.

There’s also the fact that we’re kind of in breakup purgatory. I still have a lot of his things, including his house keys. He has my things. He has my house keys. At some point there is going to need to be contact. And I guess until then I don’t need to face that he is no longer a part of my life. Forever.

You know when you meet up with an ex (usually to exchange things or for some kind of closure) and you know it’s the last time you will ever see the person? I don’t think I can face that. I think I’ll have to tell him he can come and pick up his things when I’m not here. Which means the last time I saw him will forever be that awkward moment when he turned around to hug me.

I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t been in touch at all. I’m surprised he hasn’t checked in to see if I’m ok, or at least wanted his things back. But then I was surprised when he ate half a pizza, stroked me, cuddled me, and then promptly broke up with me. 

He’s back in New York now for two weeks. I guess I won’t be hearing from him til he gets back to London. And so the no contact continues. Well, according to the books, at least I’m doing something right.