I met someone at Doc's party last night. A chick. Who has almost exactly the same relationship history as me – to the minutiae.
It's uncanny. This was amazing help for me, as I currently sift through my shit.
I describe myself as such right now: “A car that has been broken too many times, and now sits on bricks on the other side of the party, and is too expensive to mend.”
(Unless someone recognises the vintage antique Aston Martin in me, and is willing to fix me so he can show me off to his friends as his new 'classic car.')
Although she was a stranger, I knew her well by the end of the night. Also, unlike many of my support systems (friends, family, etc), she totally gets it. They may empathise, but they don't understand – not through fault of their own. They just haven't been there.
She has an ex of six years. I have an ex of six years.
She lived with hers for three. I lived with mine for three.
She left him because she'd had enough. I left mine because I'd had enough.
He pursued her for a year thereafter. Mine pursued me for a year thereafter.
Hers shortly found someone else and moved in with her. Mine shortly found someone and proposed to her.
She fell head over heels in love with her immediate 'rebound'. I fell head over heels in love with my immediate 'rebound'
He dumped her and left her crushed. Mine dumped me and left me crushed.
He dumped her because he didn't love her. Mine dumped me because he didn't love me.
She dealt with two break-ups at once. I dealt with two break-ups at once.
[Then we diverged slightly.]
Her rebound came back. Mine didn't.
But I found someone new, was incredibly happy – most of the time - then we parted on mutual terms. A month and a half ago.
For the first time in my life, I have no relationship prospects and don't want any. I've never been more alone, and more terrified.
But it's the only thing I can be right now, and I'm actually quite content. If a little subdued.
Two people said: “You've become reclusive. You leave parties early, and you're not the life of the party anymore.” (I know. I choose to. Small talk kills me these days.)
Girl above said: “After he proposed, how long did you cry for?”
(Four days solid. Non-stop. Then I got tonsilitis, couldn't get out of bed. So a good week, all in all.) “I'd have cried for nine weeks.”
(Luckily, I pulled myself together and remembered why I left him in the first place.)
Doc said: “Why you leaving so early?” (I'm tired.)
C said: “Will you be at least on form for my birthday party tomorrow? (Definitely.)
...and on that note, happy birthday for today The Poen, my fabulous, amazing mate.
This takes courage. But happy birthday Dick, as it's your birthday today too.