I’ve been quiet again. That’s because not much is happening in my life. I’ve had a few more texts from The Fireman. Things are still sailing along with not much to talk about with Someone New. I still haven’t heard a peek from Jock. Not that I ever expected to, obviously.
Actually, if I’m being honest about it, I did expect to.
At the beginning of our relationship, Jock lived in a house with three other women. It was a house-share thing. One of them was lovely – an Irish girl with a naughty sense of humour and a devilish laugh. I must have skipped her during my mid-breakup Facebook cull because she liked and commented on one of my recent hospital selfies. You know, because I’m in the hospital every week these days, I might as well get a decent selfie out of the bright lighting.
“Hope you’re alright!” she said. It was enough to make my heart stop, not because she’d commented on my photo, but because it was her. It was because she was still a friend of HIS. Maybe she’d tell him I’d been in the hospital? Maybe she doesn’t know we’ve broken up? She must do. She must know by now, surely? It’s not like we haven’t been broken up for long enough. Saying that, his brother didn’t even know so I probably shouldn’t hold my breath on people being aware of our ‘conscious uncoupling’.
Or as I like to call it, three months of hell-blubbering breakup.
He doesn’t know that we caught the first cancer scare before it had a chance to materialise into something bigger and scarier. He doesn’t know I’m on cancer scare number two. If our mutual friend tells him that I was in the hospital, maybe he’ll contact me? Would she even tell him that? Is that information she would share with him? Maybe in passing conversation … ?
Would he message me, do you think? I don’t. I don’t really think he gave that much of a shit to start with. The last thing I’d want him to think is that I’m in hospital because the cancer-news was bad. I wouldn’t want him to think that. I wouldn’t want him to feel pity for me. I wouldn’t want him to feel sad for me.
This is why you should get rid of ALL of your ex’s friends when you go through yet another devastating breakup. Because when you least expect it, months, years, maybe even decades down the line, one of those mutual friends will pop up out of nowhere and make you think about all of those happy times you shared again. It’ll make you want to bring up all those questions that you thought you’d safely buried away somewhere: is he still thinking about me? Does he still love me? I wonder what would’ve happened if we’d just stayed together … ?
I hate those fucking what-if’s.
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