I’ll Go Check Myself

Sometimes, I say things on Twitter that I don’t think get taken very well. I don’t put things out there that well, in general, to be honest. I should blog more and tweet less. Not that I tweet enough as it is. I put my phone down for five minutes, lose it, and then forget to come back to it for a couple of days, leaving various conversations in limbo. I’m such an asshole like that. I’m sorry if I’ve done that to you. I really am. I’m such a dick.

But yeah, I tweeted a little something that I don’t think I said the right way.

I swear my ‘friends’ just message me on Facebook to make me feel bad about my life.
Yesterday: “I’m having a baby boy!”
Today: “I’ve just bought a house!”

Me: “I got outta bed today.”

— NotSoSexintheCity (@notsosexintheci) February 8, 2018

Please don’t get me wrong, I love it when friends message me out of the blue to tell me their good news. Sometimes, I’m bitter. Yeah, I accept that, but that’s only because my life isn’t going the right way. Like, ever. But the ‘friends’ I was talking about in that tweet weren’t who I would consider being friends. More like acquaintances. Exes. Frenemies. Five-minute-friends.

The Lapdog, for example, messaged me entirely out of the blue. It started on WhatsApp, before moving on to Facebook messenger. I hadn’t meant to ignore the first message, so I responded to the second message as soon as I’d seen it, and a little back-and-forth of messages took place.

He asked how I was. I responded with the usual, “Great, thanks, how are things with you?” And that’s when it started:

He bought a house.

I’m happy for him. I am. But why did he feel the need to tell me about it so urgently? This is a chap I dated a couple of times, once when I was 17/18, and again when I was 26/27 because I hadn’t sufficiently learned my lesson the first time around. Both times it ended in disaster. I kept trying to make this big feeling happen that never happened, and he fell wholeheartedly in love. It was soul-destroying. I vowed never to get involved in that particular merry-go-round again. I didn’t really have a choice; his mother hated me after the second time around.

For a while after round two, we tried to stay friends. We really did too. We went for pizza friend-dates and the occasional pint. But it was always there. Whatever we had never went away. As much as the big ‘feeling’ never happened, the sex was always undeniably great. The chemistry threatened to bubble over every time we spent time together, and it did on a couple of occasions. He’d not long got together with the girl he’s now engaged to and buying the house with, but things with us hadn’t exactly ended yet. So I ended things properly. In heart-breaking, soul-destroying, true bitch style. I told him that I didn’t love him, even though I think I did a little bit. I told him that I didn’t want to be friends with him — that I couldn’t be friends with him — and that I didn’t think he could keep to his side of the friend-deal. In reality, we were both to blame. He might have gotten a tad too close, but it wasn’t like I was trying that hard to beat him off with a stick. The only way we could stop the cycle was to break away entirely.

As soon as we did, he found happiness. He stayed with that girl. If we had stayed friends, he never would have stayed with that girl. I had destroyed every relationship he’d had since we met, without even knowing about it in some cases. I didn’t want to wreck this one. I didn’t know whether or not I wanted him, but I know that I couldn’t keep my claws in him forever, so, I let him go.

He kept pushing the friendship thing for a while. He still does every now and again too. The last time he got in touch, it was to tell me that he’d gotten engaged. The time before that, I’m pretty sure it was to tell me something else awesome that happened to him. How come I never hear about the dog they had to put down? Or why his sister and that fella broke up? Or the bad stuff? Or the generic stuff? Or how he is? Like, how he really is? And why he’s really messaging me? It can’t be because he really wants to be friends, because he knows how detrimental it would be to his relationship.

The girlfriend or, rather, fiancee, has never trusted me. To be quite honest, she had damn good reason to feel that way. She would NEVER appreciate me in his life. I don’t really want to be in his life. Things always end up with some huge drama when we are friends, and it’s a cycle that has repeated itself over and over again. Surely I’m not wrong for thinking the same thing could happen again?

I just don’t understand why he felt the need to pop up in my life and tell me that. Why he keeps feeling the need to express all this happiness towards me when, let’s face it; things did not end well between us, whichever round you want to talk about. When it comes to people like that, finding out from a Facebook status is just fine. I would much rather prefer it.

See, now I feel kinda bad for throwing my tweet out there. I’m a bitter bitch, I hold my hands up to that. But I’m not THAT bitter. If this were someone I spoke to regularly, or with more depth than just, “How are you?” every ten to twelve months, I wouldn’t mind at all. I would be delighted with the news. I sent more congratulatory messages in the last year than I ever have in my life. I promise you that I’m not that twisted up and bitter, yet. I can still feel happiness for other people. It’s damn tough sometimes, but I can still do it.

I was polite to him. The Lapdog. It was just to you lot that I was a bitch. I was polite to the other people that told me their happy news too, even though I hadn’t spoken to them in months or years before that. I am happy for them. I promise I am. But why they tellin’ me though? And, if someone has a crystal ball handy: when’s my happiness coming? I have the man, but nothing else is falling into place AT ALL.

Okay, I was a bit of a bitch. I’ll give you that.

I’ll go check myself.

𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕖

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