Stop blaming your ex-boyfriend
We’ve really done nothing wrong
I came to University, like every eager fresher, absolutely buzzing to meet cool new people and have some fun. I literally just mean FUN, no innuendo intended.
I wanted to enjoy myself, let my (short) hair loose. I was ready to have the sickest time, best years of your life and all that shadazzle.
I have mates who are girls. Females are no alien species to me and friends I palled up with at Uni came in both sexes. I’m a strong believer that guys and gals can be just as good mates as same-gender friendships.
These 18 years of single living pre-Uni didn’t make me a player just a decent guy who hadn’t had a committed relationship yet.
I had fun with my mates, I was a normal guy, I was happy this way.
Don’t get me wrong I’d fancied a girl or two in my time, but I’d never actually wanted to go for it until I met her.
This girl I met at uni was SO fit, funny and if I’m honest just a lovely gal. Like nobody I’d ever fancied before, she was different. We all know what it’s like that first time that someone hits you like bus.
We gave it a shot and you could say I was experiencing a new kind of happiness with this girl, which all sounds dandy I know.
Only problem was that summer was around the corner so obviously I had to break it off with her. We had only just started seeing each other, nothing solid enough to make it work over summer.
It just wasn’t logical, right?
Apparently this made me a ‘dickhead’. Yes, I was clearly a huge twat for being rational in realizing that we lived on other sides of the country. As if everyone else thought we could make that work after knowing each other for just a few weeks.
So here we are, I became this ‘dickhead’ for being honest and telling her this. I became a dickhead for trying to be a decent guy. How does that work?
Well, I’d apparently really fucked it up.
Who else has an ex that doesn’t just ignore you, but stares straight through you? Well that was this chick. She absolutely hated me and believe it or not, it really hurt me. I’d never liked anyone as much as her before and me trying to do the logical and decent thing had had the complete opposite effect.
But this is the way it goes. It only takes one drunken encounter at FAB, months and months of hatred down the line, for everything to come out. Turns out through all her bitterness and name calling, we confessed to actually still liking eachother.
They call it the lovers tiff but I’ll take this moment for a disclaimer. If you’re trying to make a point to an ex, and you still like him, calling him a dickhead probably won’t win him back.