Today was a weird day for me. I woke up to my TimeHop reminding me of my past failed relationships once again. I should probably just delete that application from my phone. On most days, it does more harm than good. This morning it was the first photos of me on the other side of the world. It was also the 365 little love notes I wrote Jock, and gave him on our one year anniversary last year.
I stalked him today, Jock I mean. Nothing has changed on his Facebook page since we broke up. I guess he made it private when we broke up. Once upon a time, all of his stuff was public. Not that it matters. He’s blocked on my Facebook. I couldn’t cope if he ever tried to message me again. My head, or my heart, would probably explode.
One day these special dates won’t bug me. In fact, that’s a lie. Some dates I won’t ever forget, but you know what I mean. They’ll just be a distant memory. They won’t be a stabbing reminder like they are now; like a stab to the heart every time I wake up and my phone reminds me of something yet again.
It’s funny when you think about how much has changed for me in five years. For some people, five years goes by like the blink of an eye but for me, everything has changed. Multiple times. I didn’t just stalk Jock today. I stalked One Ball too.
It seems he’s now full-time daddy to at least a couple of his kids now, and from his photos, looks happier than ever. I’m glad really. He didn’t deserve the harsh brush-off I gave him. Sometimes Someone New reminds me of him. I just hope he doesn’t disappear out of my life in the same way. He doesn’t deserve it either.
I’m starting to wonder if there is a part of me refusing to move on from Jock because I’m still waiting for him. I’m still convinced we were ‘meant to be’, whatever that means. I’m still 100% convinced of it. I know we failed, and I know the reasons why, but in so many ways, he was the PERFECT man for me. You know when you just know? I just knew. I’m sure of it. Even now, seven or eight months after the split, I’m still convinced he was the perfect person for me to spend the rest of my life with, and if he turned up at my door right now, I’d melt into his arms in a heartbeat. I wonder if he knows that? I wonder if he cares?
Today would have been the last love note that he opened from that jar. That’s assuming I did the maths right, of course. 365 tiny little hand-written love notes in 365 miniature handmade envelopes is hard work. I’m not entirely convinced there were 365 in there to begin with.
But today would have been the last one he opened. I’m still furious he didn’t give those back to me. I wonder what he did with them? I wonder if he threw them out after I told him I was getting rid of the handmade Ducati shoes he made me? I never did get rid of them of course. They mean so much to me. Everything from him does. I wonder if the same could be said for him. He seemed to get over me pretty quick so I doubt it, but I wonder if he ever pined for me in the same way I pined for him? I wonder if he ever thinks about me like I think about him?
Sometimes I wonder why I even care.
But what if I don’t ever get over him? What if I always cling to the last fading memories of him, letting every good guy pass me by? Every good guy like Someone New. In so many ways he’s the perfect man. But do I see myself spending the rest of my life with him? Marrying him? Having babies with him? No I don’t think so. Am I allowed to say that?
I hate days like today.