Over

It's Sunday 13 November.

11 days ago, on 2nd November, 2 years to the day that I first laid eyes on him, our... 'relationship' ended.

Earlier in the morning I had sent B a very simple text: "x". Given that he was the one to remember the week before that it would be 2 years since we'd met, I figured he understand the significance of the text.

I went on a ladies day out to the races, as part of a national event. Because I don't get out much, and also because I don't drink alcohol often, it doesn't take me many drinks to feel the effects...

Around 2pm, when I still hadn't received any kind of reply, I called him. I suppose the alcohol gave me false courage. He asked if Id been drinking and I asked if I sounded like I had been. No, he said. I told him I had only had a couple, and that yes, I probably wouldn't of called him otherwise. He chuckled.

The short of it all is that I made a complete fool of myself. I reminded him that not only was it our anniversary, it was also his and his wife's this month. "Ah yes", he said, "thanks for reminding me". I told him a friend of mine had gone to the place he works of a night, and had seen him perform, and even without knowing our association, she had commented on how he seemed a bit of a player. Of course he denied it. During the same phone call, he again tried to set me up with his work mate R, who he has mentioned (and who've Ive met) on previous occasions. I was quite pissed off at that. I cant remember now how the phone call ended.

I was upset, and had to hide my sadness from my girlfriends. I went to the ladies bathroom and cried. Stupid. Stupid.

Then I sent a long text. Two years and I don't think about anyone else. Surrounded by hotties and I don't care. Wouldn't go out with anyone you know coz would feel like I'm cheating. On you. Bizarre. I shouldn't of called you. Sorry to bother you.

He replied. Told me I had to move on, and that someone would be stoked to have me.

Really? Would they? Where the fuck are they then? It took my 38 fucking years to find someone to make me feel passion, and finally understand and experience the things written about in books. Don't know if Ill ever find that again.

I replied "Yes I do" (need to move on), "but I'm not looking. I cant be fucked."

And that was the last time we have been in contact.

I am devastated, of course. My heart is broken. But I'm definitely more resigned and accepting this time. Of course I know its for the best.

Shame it had to end like that.

I still drive by his house occasionally. And I think about him constantly.

But all I can do is shrug. And keep going.