Saturday, 2 August 2014

A Final Word

Just under two years ago, I got a pixie cut to distract a boy I was sleeping with from the girl he was in love with. Six months later I dyed my hair brown because he liked brunettes. A year later, I dyed it purple because he'd slept with someone and couldn't stop talking about her blue hair. The way I looked became a costume.

Just under two years ago, I starved myself out of three stone after a boy defended the girl who called me fat. The boy later slept with someone who weighed two hundred and forty pounds and bemoaned the fact that I struggled to eat. So I relapsed into bulimia to make everybody happy. Merely functioning became a performance.

Just under two years ago, a boy accused me of 'being all over him' because the girl he was in love with couldn't touch him. She had a boyfriend, you see. So I backed off. Months later he accused me of making him feel ugly and worthless because I'd become distant. Affection became duty.

Please do not let a boy who doesn't care about you become your world.
They do not deserve it.
And you deserve more.

x

Sunday, 8 June 2014

Eurgh.

The last week has been AWFUL.

I thought my former-Crazy-Bitch-self had prepared me for the worst, but I had no idea of what people were actually capable of when they had been handed your feelings.

We're going to drill down to the bedrock of this, so DO TRY TO KEEP UP.

Doughnut.

We've been 'seeing each other' (probably not even that) for about two years. (EDIT: Two years EXACTLY, this Tuesday coming. What a coincidence.)

For that two years I would estimate that only twenty percent of that time has not been marred by him either chasing after or sleeping with someone else.

I was undoubtedly used by him, emotionally and physically, and can't help but feel as though I was part of a cruel experiment. Like, a little test to see if he could do a relationship before he moved on and found someone that he thinks is worth his time.

I mean, he introduced me to family and friends. We went away together. We spent A LOT of time together. He also forced me into close quarters with his best friend, which means that I am now not only being stung by the loss of him as a Whatever (more on this later) but also by the loss of her.

To the average onlooker, I would imagine we looked every inch the couple.

Naturally, to counteract that, he ensured that I knew FULL WELL where I stood, but you put up with that kind of thing when your self-esteem has been trampled into the ground.

Eurgh.

Anyway, recently things started getting too comfortable and Doughnut freaked out (as he is entitled to do) and decided that what the situation called for was the CEASING OF ALL CONTACT.

Awesome and grown-up, as is his trademark.

He didn't actually let me know about this though. Had he done so, I would have backed off immediately. He literally ended our last conversation with "Can I pick you up in a few days?"

So, not just miscommunicating but flat-out lying about his intentions.

I tried to get in touch. Obviously. I always try to get in touch.

The most unfortunate thing about him, however, is that he does this thing, even in my physical presence, where my every action is interpreted as either manipulative, spiteful or insane. There is a picture of me in his head - probably to help justify the pain he deliberately causes - that is entirely alien compared to Actual Me.

As a result, this week has been punctuated by the sound of me being spat at via text and email for imagined slights, and I have been accused of being possessive, needy and all of those words thrown at women to frighten them, simply for wanting some clarity.

Apparently I was called all of those things by his friends too.

Lovely.

He's currently playing the same games I have seen him play with other girls. He's tweeting about being happy (an emotion I'm pretty sure he does not have access to) and having a fantastic time without me. Anything I do hear from him is either abusive or dismissive. Nothing short of disrespectful. Having heard the way he speaks about his past conquests, it sadly does not surprise me.

And, enough's enough.

Monday, 2 June 2014

You're Being A Dick

We may or may not have touched upon this before.

I have very strong feelings about the phrase I Love You, in the sense that I think it is FUCKING STUPID AND OVER-HYPED.

I understand that we have all grown up on Friends and Scrubs and other horrible things that have made us think that I Love You is some kind of monumental life-altering utterance, but it isn't. It's just words. Non-mattering words.

The feelings behind the words matter, of course, but...

HERE IS WHAT I AM GETTING AT.

I literally cannot remember a time when I have said I Love You out loud to a human boy (which is where my sexual interest mostly lies), but it doesn't mean that I didn't love them or have feelings for them or whatever.

I have a lot of feelings but because some of them are stuck behind a wall of fear, panic and self-loathing, it may not always be obvious.

People express themselves in different ways. NUANCE.

"You're being a dick", for example, is just the most wonderfully underrated expression of affection when it's said by someone who's sticking around.

THINK FOR A SECOND ABOUT WHAT THAT MEANS.

It means that even AT YOUR WORST, someone still thinks you're a solid investment.

And then there are the little things.

Like, "here's some toast to keep you alive, because that's important to me." Or, "I've caught this spider but I promise I won't wave it in your face because I know how you get."

Maybe, "I'm going to watch this thing because it's important to you and I will try my best to be diplomatic even when it is stupid." Or, "look, I'm going to offer you the last biscuit even though I really want it."

Also if you offer someone the last biscuit and they don't take it, THAT may be a lovely and beautiful gesture.

You see?

NUANCE.

So, you might have a moment where I Love You is a thing that it makes sense to say aloud, but you are doing yourself a disservice if you will accept nothing less or if you think, even for a second, that the words are what matter. You don't need to hear it. You need the other bits.

x

Tuesday, 20 May 2014

Ex-Boyfriends and their UNWANTED OPINIONS

I am in the worst mood of my LIFE today.



I’m just going to copy and paste some emails, if that’s okay.

THEN WE CAN ALL BE ENRAGED TOGETHER.



So, I was just about to go to sleep last night when I received this message from an ex-boyfriend who has definitely been featured on this blog and who just HAPPENS to have recently moved in with his new girlfriend.



As a disclaimer, I think this was possibly provoked by my accidentally favouriting one of his tweets when I was trying to see what his new girlfriend looked like. Maybe he thought I ACTUALLY LIKED SOMETHING HE SAID WHICH HAS LITERALLY NEVER HAPPENED, and if that is the case, I’M SORRY. 



Oh, I am so angry.



02:44



I never stopped having second thoughts about us. Do you think you made the right choice?


That was shortly followed by this:

03:15



I worry about you. Here you were loved and admired and now you’re barely tolerated. I check up on you once in a while and I’m always given cause to be concerned about you.
 

I ignored both messages. Particularly the first one, because WHO CONCLUDES THAT THEY MADE GOOD LIFE DECISIONS WHEN THEY ARE THINKING ABOUT THEM AT 3AM?



And BARELY TOLERATED?!

In answer to those emails, I present the following statement:

I could be in a relationship that requires me to SET MYSELF ON FIRE EVERY SINGLE MORNING AT 7.22AM and I would still feel as though I made the right choice. Please save your concern for your live-in girlfriend.

Ew.

x

Saturday, 10 May 2014

Small Talk

I am simply not wired to deal with the societal pressure to make small talk with strangers.

I don't even make small talk with people I LIKE.

I have sat mere metres away from people I love - in the same house or flat or room - for HOURS and DAYS without feeling the need to say a single word to them and all the while I have heard nary a peep from them either. Why? Because we are comfortable in the knowledge that we are as impressed by each other as we will ever be.

Comfortable silence.

The kind of silence that says, "I'm happy you're here, but nothing either of us says at this point is going to be more important than the game you are playing or the book I am reading. Please let me know when you are hungry." 

x