- Cry for days and not get out of bed
- Burn photos of their significant other
- Throw a tantrum
- Eat every confectionery item that can be found in Woolworths.
- Chop off all their hair and dye it a stupid colour.
Me? I have done all but one of those things. 1000 Gold Medallions to the person who can guess which.
Normally you'd cycle through those things a couple of times until you finally got over it and moved on with your life only to do it all again with somebody else later on down the track like the stupid, punishment-enjoying idiot that you are.
Yes, I will indeed do all of that - although right now I'm pretty much sworn off all men, sex and general contact with the human race - but the difference is I'm going to expose my psychotic post-break up ramblings to the entire world as a kind of catharsis for myself. I'm going to plot my thoughts, my recovery and my life after my life with someone else.
So, I guess if you're going to join in on my vomit-inducing roller-coaster ride that is my recovery from heartbreak then you should probably actually be properly educated on the jerk who tore me a new emotional ass hole. Let's begin by calling him S.
S is everything you could possibly want in a man when you put him on paper. He was a doctor, from a wealthy (but emotionally vacant) family and was handsome. When I met him I was only 16 and working as an assistant nurse in the same hospital.. He was interning from Medical School and was 28 years old.
I completely abhorred him because I was, like, sixteen, and he was, like, old. Despite that, we got along fairly well but we never did much about it because of our age gap. I saw him occasionally for dinner and things like that as I got older, but we never fully connected - I was always a little bit icy to him because I lacked the ability to be nice in my teenage years for some reason, and he was always a little bit too busy with work anyway.
After not actually seeing one another for about two years, around my 21st birthday, he randomly sent me a message at some ungodly hour of the morning by e-mail. And not just to my e-mail, but as a lurking guest to one of my online dating profiles. That is to say he wasn't a member of this particular website, but just happened to looking (fapping?) at my profile and decided to message me this:
In his defence, he does drink a lot. Part of me thinks he actually meant to send this to Zac Efron, but because he was so hammered he mistook my reasonably beautiful face for that of Mr Efron.
The first time I caught S cheating on me was in January of this year. I won't go into details because i think it's embarrassing enough to let the world know that's what he did without getting into the nitty gritty of it all. We were apart exactly four weeks before we reconciled - he was so remorseful, so broken hearted. This incredibly proud and stubborn man openly admitted to everybody he knew how he had betrayed me and even stooped so low as to beg my mother, who he didn't really even get along with, to help win me back. Because I apparently have the intelligence of a bunch of soap, I went back to him.
We got engaged over the following Easter weekend after a romantic holiday. He took my mother and I out to dinner at a nice restaurant and slipped the ring on my finger under the table. I cried, Mum cried, and the waiter decided to change the music in the restaurant to cheesy romantic music. It really seemed like we were going to get on with our lives, move past what had happened and we'd be happy.
And just as a side note, I highly recommend being a gay Bride-to-be. You get to flash your big ass bling in people's faces and be an absolute asshole, but nobody can say anything because you're the bride.
S is everything you could possibly want in a man when you put him on paper. He was a doctor, from a wealthy (but emotionally vacant) family and was handsome. When I met him I was only 16 and working as an assistant nurse in the same hospital.. He was interning from Medical School and was 28 years old.
I completely abhorred him because I was, like, sixteen, and he was, like, old. Despite that, we got along fairly well but we never did much about it because of our age gap. I saw him occasionally for dinner and things like that as I got older, but we never fully connected - I was always a little bit icy to him because I lacked the ability to be nice in my teenage years for some reason, and he was always a little bit too busy with work anyway.
After not actually seeing one another for about two years, around my 21st birthday, he randomly sent me a message at some ungodly hour of the morning by e-mail. And not just to my e-mail, but as a lurking guest to one of my online dating profiles. That is to say he wasn't a member of this particular website, but just happened to looking (fapping?) at my profile and decided to message me this:
Since when?
Let's be very clear about this: he and I had not spoken for about two years. Before that, we didn't get along so great. So, where the hell did this come from?
Because the message was "anonymous", as most creepy stalker messages are, I had to ask him who it was that apparently loved me dearly enough to break all sorts of not-being-creepy taboo. Eventually we established who he was, and he proudly announced: "The one who's been in love with you for years" (Spelling fixed for your pleasure.)In his defence, he does drink a lot. Part of me thinks he actually meant to send this to Zac Efron, but because he was so hammered he mistook my reasonably beautiful face for that of Mr Efron.
Despite my education in stranger-danger and identifying psychotic axe murderers, I decided to call him and from there on began our relationship that would consume three years of my life I will never get back.
As we've established, I was not the nicest young man in the world around the time I met S and it was a very long time until I was not considered to be such an asshole. My nickname amongst the circle of homosexuals who knew me was "the Ice Prince", due to my slightly cold nature and apparently inability to love another human being or even kittens. It was S who broke down these barriers of ice I had inexplicably put up to defend myself from the dangers of human attachment, and because of that our relationship was ridiculously close. I had opened myself to everything that comes with a relationship and there was no part of me that I did not expose to this man. I loved him with every single little atom of my being and I truly believed he loved me, too.The first time I caught S cheating on me was in January of this year. I won't go into details because i think it's embarrassing enough to let the world know that's what he did without getting into the nitty gritty of it all. We were apart exactly four weeks before we reconciled - he was so remorseful, so broken hearted. This incredibly proud and stubborn man openly admitted to everybody he knew how he had betrayed me and even stooped so low as to beg my mother, who he didn't really even get along with, to help win me back. Because I apparently have the intelligence of a bunch of soap, I went back to him.
Featured: Graphical representation of my brain
We got engaged over the following Easter weekend after a romantic holiday. He took my mother and I out to dinner at a nice restaurant and slipped the ring on my finger under the table. I cried, Mum cried, and the waiter decided to change the music in the restaurant to cheesy romantic music. It really seemed like we were going to get on with our lives, move past what had happened and we'd be happy.
And just as a side note, I highly recommend being a gay Bride-to-be. You get to flash your big ass bling in people's faces and be an absolute asshole, but nobody can say anything because you're the bride.
Also featured: Me, the Bridezilla.
Things went brilliantly for a while until three or four weeks ago I discovered S had cheated on me again. Except, this time, he denied it until he was blue in the face and then some. Even though he was so blatantly busted he couldn't swallow his pride enough to admit he'd been caught again. And that's where it ended - even after I told him if he admitted it we could work through it.
And now, here we are. I'm about to start my life from scratch - I'm basically back to where I was when I was 21, only I'm nowhere near as perky and cute. I have to get myself a solid job, decide what I really want to do in my life and publicly embarrass myself with this blog. And I assume because you are between porn sites you will probably join me. I promise these aren't all going to be whiny "woe is me" posts, but I felt it was important people understood the context under which I started this blog.
I hope you enjoy it. Now get back to your porn.
