...cos it's broken. I bought the evasive book. And read it. The basic points to remember when going through heart-wrenching betrayal are these:
1) Put down the phone. Do not call him. Ever.
(Check. Have not even farted in his direction, nevermind called, smsed, emailed. I have no urge at all. Even when I'm drunk and emotional.)
2) Don't try to accidentally bump into him. Ever.
(Check. Avoiding Small Bum like the plague. Have turned down two invitations to the Colony Arms recently because, well, the place is disgusting, and he might be there. Plus, if he is shagging something new, I wouldn't want to intimidate her with my fabulousness, on the offchance I see them together.)
3) Don't whine about him all the time to your friends. Get a shrink.
(Don't need a shrink. Or need to whine about him, as such. Except when I'm drunk and/or raving on about how amazing I am and how amazing he is not.)
4) Don't boil his bunny. Or be any kind of psycho, for that matter.
(Check. Haven't burnt any of his belongings he left at my house, or haven't called him up and told him I will kill him, or left him psycho messages. I'll leave that to the person who does it best. Sharon Stone.)
5) Look fabulous for someone new, not him.
(Check. This is easy. I looked fabulous for Guy I Have My Eye On the other day, where my averaged-sized noombies looked like they were going to burst out of my new shirt. In a classy way. I swear.)
6) Love yourself before you move on to somebody else.
(Um, check! Hello?)
7) Avoid self-destructive behaviour during this traumatic time.
(Oh come on, every one needs a vice.)
8) Don't see him ever. Avoid any contact for 80 days.
(Check. And going strong. Although it's hard not to smell his self-tan from Illovo when he's just up the road in Killarney.)
Problem: He's got my bloody Andy Warhol prints we ordered off the Internet. I'll be damned if he thinks he's keeping my 55 inch-tall Marilyn Monroe. I may have to send my agent to collect them.