On being cheated

I always knew what you were doing. I knew it in my stomach, I knew it in my heart. The lies that didn’t add up. The accusations that didn’t have any basis. The control and mistrust.

I guess I did not think it would happen to me. And then I didn’t think it would happen again. And not again (again). But it did. Rather, you did. A leopard never changes his spots the first girl told me. Leave him.

But I had given you so much – too much – to walk away now. So I stayed, telling myself that things would get better. Because I would be better. All the while knowing that nothing was enough. My time, my mind, my money, my words, my energy. Nothing of it was every going to be enough for you. You took and you took. From me, from her, from her, from her. The black hole in your chest sucking up all of our love, nothing could escape.

I know it wasn’t me. It was all you. I don’t understand why. And that’s what bugs me the most. 

Written in response to the prompt “your opinion on being cheated” as part of the 30 day challenge.

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Sticks and stones may break my bones but your words cut me deeper

I was going through my notes on my phone, deleting things that don’t mean anything anymore. And then across a note I had last updated in 19th January 2013. They contain the words of my ex. Words he would say whilst we were arguing. And I’d write them down so I would not go back to him but like a fool I always did. Even after all those years they still hurt and I’m so disappointed in myself for staying with it for so long.

Finally those words are deleted out of my life. And slowly but surely I am deleting the memorise of him out too.

Once a whore always a whore

Your tears don’t mean shit to me. You look pathetic when you cry

You’re such a pathetic little shit

What I said, ok it was wrong, but see how angry YOU make me?

Don’t call me again or I’ll chuck my phone in your face

Me: I love you

You: Whatever, bye

When they move on 

The jerk when I see you with her is something I’m not prepared for. I don’t love you. That I know is true. But seeing you with her brings up the butterflies and warmth from when I was her.

And the pain, the tear and the anger.

And the anger lingers. How dare you be happy when you tore me up and left me so empty, broken and unhappy.

You’re smiling and travelling. And I’m doing the same. But I expected me leaving you to leave you as empty, broken and unhappy. I did not expect you to pick up the pieces as I have. I did not think you could move on without me.

I feel a build up of almost hate. Like I don’t want you to be happy. But I’m not a hateful person. “Of course I want you to be happy” I tell myself. And it would break my heart to see you suffering – despite the suffering you caused me.

I suppose I just didn’t think you could be. I expected you to come back – try and come back, beg even – believe that your life would be nothing without me. And yes I would have said no. And you know this. But seeing you move on makes me feel so useless. Like I didn’t even matter. Like I’m replaceable.

First Date: the pre-nerves

I’m going on my first date since the big break up. I haven’t really blogged about it before but I mention both him and the new guy here. This is the guy who I said isn’t the perfect someone because the initial attraction just wasn’t there. Since then we’ve bumped into each other a few times – we have a tonne of mutal friends – so I learnt a little more about him. He’s actually a pretty awesome guy but also very humble. So we’ve decided to give it a go.

I’ve never been on a date before. My ex is the only person I have ever been with and we were good friends before he asked me out, so there wasn’t any awkward getting to know each other period. So, naturally, I’m feeling super nervous.  Continue reading