You little b****rd. the next time you come near me with your bow and arrow filled with love, I am going to take it, replace the arrows with laxative laced ends and fire it straight into your ass! Do not approach me showing me the butterflies, rainbows and sing-songs of couples in love. I am quite happy as I am right now. Should you feel the need to show me some love, then please replace your arrows with either money-tipped arrows or arrows laced with opportunities.
I appreciate that it is your job to make people fall in love, but right now, I don’t want it. Please give it to someone else who would benefit from it.
We’ve met before, a couple of times, and let’s just say that it didn’t go so well. My advice to you would be to go away, maybe take a holiday with Mrs. Cupid to a small island in the Caribbean, swing on a hammock and drink some cocktails out of a pineapple. Go and get your much deserved rest, think about what you have done and only return to me when you are certain that you will get it right!
Send me a postcard and give my best to the kids
It is of my opinion (and experience) that after a breakup, we try desperately at times, to cling on to the first sign of affection that another person shows us in a romantic way. We find ourselves suddenly alone, without that safety net that we call commitment. No more joint Christmas cards, no more inside jokes and no more ‘us’.
That is until someone charges in on a white horse to save us from the tallest room, in the tallest tower of spinsterdom that we have been locked in by our ex-significant others. The room is awful. It’s dark and surrounded by images of relationships-past, constantly reminding you of what you once had. The constant torture of seeing your face as it used to be, as opposed to the spotty, puffed up mess that it is at that point is enough to make anybody desperate.
It turns out that the white knight that we thought was there to rescue us, was infact just a decoy, to get us out of that room and show us that there are more people out there for us. This is normal, and what we, in the real world call a rebound.
They come in all shapes, sizes and names. Mine was about 3 months after my breakup and I thought that everything was going so swimmingly. I thought I had been lucky enough to skip the rebound and be blessed with a chance of happiness. I’m not talking about a relationship. It was way too early for that, but it was nice to experience someone telling me that they actually enjoyed my company instead of being ignored. If you read my blog on a regular basis, then you already know the story behind that one, and you also will know that it didn’t last longer than a month. How did I feel after it? Devastated. Surprisingly, it upset me just as much as my big break-up.
A while back, in my blog, I stated that I quickly got over him (guy#3). Ok, so I lied. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t obsessive, but it wasn’t nice. So soon after a breakup, it made me feel that there was something wrong with me.
I was surrounded by people telling me that I needed some time on my own, to which was the equivalent swearing at me and destroying my Cher cd collection. It didn’t compute as I’d been part of a unit for so long. I didn’t know how to do anything else. It was all so suffocating and I detested the idea of being alone. To put it in more of a better term: it fucking sucked.
That was 9 months ago. Since then, I have been completely on my own (as far as men count anyway). In the 9 months that have passed, I have (at first begrudgingly) taught myself how to be single. I’ve actually come to really enjoy it. The perks are great: The bed to yourself (star-fishing), I can eat what I want without worrying that they don’t want what I want, I can go and see anybody, anywhere, at any time, because I am independent and I don’t have to save money for things like ‘date-night’ or ‘bail-the-boyfriend-out-of-the-club-bill-or-pay-his-rent-night’.
People speak of an undying love that waits for us out there, over the rainbow. I don’t doubt for a second that there is someone out there, waiting for me to show my face, but for now, he can stay waiting for a while. If this guy really does exist, and he has waited 25 years for me so far, then he can wait a bit longer. If not, then he’s not the one for me.
So many of us, when single, wait for cupid to pay us a visit and grace us with the blessing of love. I’ve had the blessing, a few times, but I think his arrows must be a bit faulty. Or perhaps I was faulty at the time?
It has taken me 9 months, since the rebound, to get to this stage. The same amount of time that it takes for a life to grow and be born. I guess you could look at it that way. For the last 9 months, a new life has been (figuratively) growing inside of me. I have given birth to it and it has latched itself onto me and taken over the desperate side which we are all guilty of having at times.
“How does it feel, to be on your own all of the time Kalvin?”
“It’s fucking brilliant!”
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