One more, that's it.

Ok. I posted about my need for Saturday night ideas; and I just finished posting about the fact that OMG TONIGHT IT WILL BE ONE WEEK SINCE HE DUMPED ME, and I still don't have anything to do on my Saturday nights.

However, I was thinking, I need to one more post about it, and that's it. One more to get it off my chest, and I can get some closure type crap and move on and possibly even take up my Fantapants Adventure FOR REALS again.

And it will be...what happened the night of 24th March 2007. From my perspective only, of course. But feel free to comment and tell me I was a dickhead and you would have done exactly the same thing, or that he was a dickhead, etc. I don't mind if you don't agree with me; I'm not trying to win a popularity contest and if anything, if I was in the wrong, it will help point it out to me so I can learn for next time. I've told some friends and a few people at work this story, but sometimes RL people are not as objective...

****

Preface: For the last few weeks I'd been feeling down. Four main reasons:
* I've put on too much weight, and just feeling crap about myself
* Worrying about my financial status, in particular, how I was going to afford to go to Europe with The Boy later this year
* My Best Friend (despite her shortcomings) is moving back up to QLD again
* Worrying about my social life in general (or rather, lack of).

Now, regular readers would be aware of most of these points at some stage. I have my down moments, normally I'll post on here, and then the next day, I'm back up and I don't care. Generally, I'm 95% Fuck You, to other people, and 5% no self esteem. Not a bad ratio, but it does mean that I have my 'down' days.

Throw into the mix that I've been flat out with work lately, and also The Boy went away to Far North Queensland for a week without me. So I was feeling kinda shit.

This is how it went down:

Thursday Night 22nd March
I had a massage, and talked to my therapist, and was feeling unhappy, but relieved to have spoken to someone about the above. The Boy text me, and I ended up telling him that I was unhappy, and then ended up telling him why. He promised to give me a "big hug for as long as I wanted" and we could talk the next night. Feeling much more buoyed.

Friday 23rd March
Feeling excellent; work was good, going out for drinks after work; seeing The Boy tonight, and spending 3 nights with him! He picks me up from work, I am in considerably better mood. We get back to my house, and I want my hug, and to talk. But he wants to kiss me, etc, and well, I KNOW where that leads, and it's not like I don't want it too, I just want to talk first. End up going out for dinner, coming home, then having sex. No talking.

Saturday 24th March, Daytime
I'm getting my haircut; it takes four and a half hours. I feel terrible, because The Boy is at my house by himself. Insist that he cooks himself some party pies, etc in the fridge for lunch and not to wait for me, but he does wait. On my way home from massive hair cut, I get some KFC. Just some chips and a drink for me, but he pigs out. Ok.

Spend rest of afternoon, until about 6pm, in bed.

Saturday 24th March, Night-time
The plan is that we will drive up to his house, where I spend Sat & Sunday nights, and he'll drive me to trainstation on Monday morning (he's still on holidays). So we get ready, I pack my bags, and we go. The question of dinner comes up.
I'm more than happy to just grab something on the way, but he is insistant that we go out. He's not hungry at all though. We end up at Doncaster TGI's, but there's a 20 minute wait. I left it to him where we go, although he doesn't just want to grab something because he's sick of junkfood, because he's not the hungry one. We end up at a pub somewhere in Preston.

I'm pretty hungry at this stage, so I want to order a meal. He wants to order...bruschetta. This is where my kinda-fragile-at-the-moment-self esteem kicks in. There's no way I can sit and eat a Chicken Parma or the like, while he has a piece of bread.
A) - the idea of me sitting there eating all that food while he eats hardly anything, makes me feel physically ill, and validates my thoughts that I am just a fat, shovelling food...person (you get the idea).
B) - people sitting around us will see what we're eating and 'tsk tsk' and believe it's typical of a fat, shovelling food person like me to be eating so much.
And for someone that has put up with nasty comments all her life, the second one is always a possibility.

However, totally irrational, I know. But with the way I had been feeling, not entirely avoidible.

Now. Dinner comes out. I upset myself even more. I ended up ordering the Gnocchi, but even that is huge compared to some bread. I eat, we eat, almost silently (NB - Keep in mind that I'm not pissed off with him, just upset at myself), and yes, there are tears in my eyes. I feel disgusting.

I manage to eat half, but he's finished, and I don't want to keep eating. It's like the dessert conumdrum, where one person wants it, but the other doesn't, so the one who wants it misses out. The lady takes my plate away.

The Boy cracks it "I'm pissed off now" and motions to go. I go down to cashier to pay, and I'm pulling out my EFTPOS card, and the girl is just about to take it, when he whips out some cash, and shoves it in front of her face. Great scene, girl with tears in her eyes, and boy with pissed off, smug expression on his face. If it wasn't for the smug expression, I wouldn't have gotten pissed off right then (I don't care about paying). As it was, he walked out of the pub 5 steps ahead of me, and we got in the car.

Him (pissed off): "What are we going to do now?"
Me (pissed off, not sad now): "Oh, just take me to the train station then"

And with that, he puts the super-dooper fast car into action, and starts driving me home.

Conversation ( I'll try not to bore you further) ensues; He's taking me home; that's it, it's over; no, he doesn't want to talk about it, it's over. For my part, I'm asking him if we can talk about it; to stop the car and go back to his house; and saying 'please' a lot.

He calls my scene at the pub, a 'freakshow'. He's not going to have that sort of drama in his life. He says I shouldn't be worried about what other people think of me; my other reasons for being upset are stupid as well.

I ask can we sort it out, and he replies that I have to sort myself out. Which is true, but I'm not asking him to solve my problems, only to be there for me.

Which is the only part that I get pissed off about. I know I was an arsehole, and I know I have to sort myself out, but isn't the whole idea of being in a relationship being there for the other person when they're not 24/7 happy? I think that's how he thinks it should have been. For the first time (and yes, this is the first time this has ever happened), I've been less than my normally cheery, sarcastic self, and he 'doesn't like what he sees'.

Of course, it's okay for him to not want to see me for a weekend, because he's feeling down, and needs to be by himself. I could have done that too, but I geniunely was happy to see him. Of course, it's okay for him to abandon me for a weekend so he can play a FUCKING VIDEO GAME all weekend, and do housework. And naturally, it's okay that he didn't want to see me at on Christmas Day because of his mum, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc ETC FUCKING ETC.

Ahem. Anyway. We get to my house; he drives up my drive way, gets out, gets my bags out of the car, gives me my keys, goes to kiss me on the cheek, and says "I've had fun in the last two years", then goes back to his car.

Like the fool that I am, I try to hold him, and ask him to come inside so we can talk. But he pushes me away and says "This is the last time you'll ever see me", gets in his car, "If you're so worried about what people think of you, why aren't you worried now?", and drives away.

****

And that's it. Nothing more after that. I've resisted temptation to text him, as badly as I want to, I've resisted the temptation to email him. I won't chuck his stuff yet, just in case he does want it back. (NB - it's going after a couple of weeks).

I know that I haven't been a bitch. I know that I haven't wronged him, or treated him badly. I know it can probably be exasperating to hear someone with no self confidence, which is basically what he intimated. But I'm not like that all of the time, so I'm kinda at a loss as to why it was a 'breaking up point'. It kinda pisses me off too, because if this was a reason to break up, I had so many more legit reasons to do it, but NO, I'm the sucker who generally tries to understand the other person & their reasons, and because I'm easy going, I generally get over it.

WELL NOT ANY FUCKING MORE.

The guys at work reckon it was a heat of the moment thing; they reckon once he cools down, and realises that I'm not begginng him to take me back, etc, then he will contact me. But I don't think so; he's not a dramaticist, not a romanticist, not an emotional. An excellent analogy, again by my brother, is that our relationship is like a computer program; he will just delete it from his hard drive, and won't give another thought to it again.

And anyway, if he doesn't contact me again, I won't know what to do.