Day Seven.

On day seven, I woke up and knew something was wrong right away. I had no morning text message from Brown Eyes. He’s always up and awake long before me in the morning so it was unusual for me to wake up and not be greeted by a text. It’s usually the sign of a bad day for him, I’ve learned to recognise that now.

He’d been a little funny with me the night before, seemingly short with no X’s and O’s at the end of his messages. That was unusual too, he loves hearts and kisses emojis and he puts x’s on the end of everything, even messages to his male mates for fun. Seeing as he hadn’t morning-messaged me, I figured I’d let him get on with it. I was due to see him in a couple of days and the last thing I wanted to do was start another fight. My period had come a week earlier than expected so I was definitely a little mood-swingy, and I felt us both being mood-swingy at the same time probably wasn’t a great idea. So I held back, I was quiet, I waited in the wings. When I hadn’t heard from him by 2pm, I bit the bullet and text him. Just a little cheeky hello, are you still alive? He was, no X’s still, and no conversation either. Back to short and sharp, aggressive little messages, the lack of digital kisses definitely not unnoticed. Right, I’m being punished for something obviously. But what?

He told me he was busy, doing this and that for local friends and businesses. You know, man stuff. Fixing things, building things, whatever it is men do when they get together. I left him to it, knowing how he likes to sink his teeth into these little projects, and cracked on with my deadlines. I was a little glad of the peace and quiet to be honest. He gets really shirty if I don’t text him back quick enough, and he HATES it when I ignore his calls.

Those abrupt, short, sharp messages carried on for 24 hours. Well, whenever I tried to strike up a conversation anyway. He didn’t try once. It was as though he was ghosting me. The next day when I still wasn’t getting anywhere, I decided to ask him right out what was wrong. I AM being punished for something and for the life of me, I couldn’t work out what it was.

He told me he was upset because I hadn’t text him ‘good morning’ when I was awake before he was. He didn’t feel like a big enough “fucking priority” for me to text him. I should have text him first but I always expect him to do it, I expect too much of him and I don’t give him anything back in return. I clearly had the hump with him, a “blob strop” he called it, and told me that I shouldn’t take my “fucking PMS” out on him. Oh, and I’m a “stubborn prick“.

Nice. There’s that name-calling. Didn’t I mention that before? It’s starting to become a thing with him. I’ve asked him a couple of times to not name-call during fights. I HATE that.

I explained that he was wrong. I didn’t have the hump, I felt he was short with me and just wanted to make sure he was okay. What happened next … Well, it was nuts. Because, just as you warned me, he is nuts. I just didn’t listen. I had to make doubly sure. And here’s what happened:

Riiiiiight. I’m not playing this game again. As soon as he told me he couldn’t do it anymore, I switched off. Fine, whatever. If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel. It was nice to know you, be happy, now fuck off. That was his second chance. That’s all I was prepared to offer. He ditched me again. Just ditched me. All of a sudden, I lived too far away again. All of a sudden, I didn’t love him enough. Oh wait, you don’t know about that yet.

After the Tinder comment which, by the way, I feel deserves a very own blog post rant all of its own, I just blocked him. I didn’t really know what else to do. It was the most offensive thing he could have said to me. I won’t go into that now, I’ll rant about that later when I’ve had time to gather my thoughts about it. But that was it for me. If he was prepared to use meeting another woman / women as a punishment, it’s definitely over. Over, over. One hundred percent over. Whatsapp – blocked. Facebook – blocked. His number for calls and texts – blocked. Instagram – blocked. I no longer want or need to listen to anything he has to say.

Within ten minutes, I received two a-n-g-r-y voicemails in quick succession. I don’t love him, I don’t care about him, I don’t give a shit. I was selfish. I was a stubborn prick. I was being fucking petty by blocking him. He did all this shit for me and I did fuck all for him. He told me he wanted to see me for a few hours during the week and I couldn’t make time for him, not the tiniest bit of time. I was an asshole, a prick, a cunt … I thought I could angry-rant but this guy? He was angry and made damn sure I knew about it. I’d never heard him like that before. If we’d been face to face, I would have been frightened of that tone, of the words he used and the way he said them. I deleted those messages the second I’d listened to them. I don’t ever want to hear that tone or his voice again. I’ve had messages like that before – all of a sudden I was back on the phone to my husband again. My rose-tinted glasses have been removed. I know how this game goes. I also know I’ll lose the game every time.

He’s made me look a twat because everyone was right and I was wrong, he is a wrong’un. He’s a fuck up. He’s not right in the head. This fight came out of nowhere again. Him breaking up with me came out of nowhere again. Well, maybe not nowhere … I’m starting to wonder if he ever came off Tinder in the first place. I’m wondering if there was already someone else lined up. It’s as though he just totally lost interest in me again, and to end it, he had to start a fight. And now it’s getting worse. This name-calling is getting worse. It’s turned from two angry people furiously texting to him becoming actually abusive. It’s the same pattern as last time but worse. It’s getting worse – the name-calling, the fighting, a few other things … Okay, I’ve done this twice now. I’ve made the same mistake twice. I can’t and won’t let it happen again. I can’t believe I was so foolish.

But I know now. I definitely know. You were all definitely right and he is definitely wrong. Depression is not an excuse to act like an asshole whenever you feel like it. He’s just a child who can’t accept responsibility for his own actions. I know his type well. He’s every guy I’ve ever dated. He’s just my type – a dysfunctional sociopath / narcissist. But seriously though, I know you’ll all laugh and tell me I deserved the second burning because I went back for more but I had to find out for myself. I played with fire and I got burned. Maybe next time I’ll listen. Not just to you but to the warning signs I spot for myself. Like when he used to leave his apartment and lock me in. I noticed that the last week we spent together and when I asked him about it, he told me he’d always done that. Every time he left I heard the keys turn in the lock. I can’t believe I never spotted that he did that before.

All of a sudden he makes me feel very uneasy. Like there’s something deep and dark and dangerous about him. The way he should have made me feel after the last time – the way he was all making you feel. Sometimes it just takes me a little longer to cotton on. But I’ve cottoned on now. I promise I have. I was dumb for a while and now I feel uncomfortable about what *might* have happened. Locking me in? That’s a little weird right? I couldn’t get out if I wanted or needed to. Well, I don’t think I could have. I never tried. But it’s a suffocating thought now. One I never picked up on before. Maybe I should have done, especially after that kitchen incident? I’ll talk about that tomorrow. This is already too long a blog post again, and I’m sorry for droning on. This guy got into my head. He really got into my head. He knew exactly what he was doing. I was played for a fool.

I really need to start making smarter decisions. I have now. It started on day eight when I made a vow to delete that prick right outta my life, digitally, physically, every way.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. You don’t get to fuck with me a third time.