My First Heartbreak
10 months into my relationship with Goth Boy my worst nightmare came true, and I experienced my first heartbreak. (The first of many.) I can still remember the actual pain I felt in my heart when our relationship ended. That first devastating breakup really is something, huh?
Horseface was right
I hated admitting that at the time, and I still hate admitting it now. But she was right: Goth Boy was out there fucking everyone and anyone else. It was actually GB’s best friend that spilled the beans, who is now fondly known as The Bad Memory. But we’ll get to that part in a moment.
It was Saturday. I’d finished work and gone home, feeling somewhat glum because I missed GB. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and it would be a little while longer before I could.
“You coming out tonight?” my friends asked me.
“Nah, not tonight,” I said. I had some self-pity to wallow in.
I went home, had a bath, and chit-chatted with friends and loved ones for a bit. Then, GB called… and called me another woman’s name.
To put it bluntly I lost it a little bit. Who the fuck is that? Why are you calling ME her name? Who is she to you? Are you fucking cheating on me? Blah blah blaaaah.
GB denied everything. “No, of course I’m not cheating on you. It’s just been a long day, and I work with her.”
It made sense, so I accepted it.
Later that evening, GB’s best friend called me. GB had called him to vent about our little fight, and The Bad Memory (who I’ll know call TBM) called me to check I was okay.
But why?
TBM wasn’t my friend. We’d never hung out without GB, nor had we text or called each other. It set my Spidey senses off.
“Why are you really calling me, TBM?” I asked him.
My first heartbreak
Long story short: he was calling to make sure that I’d bought GB’s story. It turns out, GB had been cheating on me all along… with several different women, it seems.
My heart was absolutely broken. Shattered into a million different pieces. I cried for an hour. I didn’t move; I just sat on the floor and cried until there was a wet patch on the carpet from my tears.
I didn’t know how to deal with that kind of relationship breakdown. My relationship with my first ever boyfriend had ended relatively amicably, and neither of us cheated. How was I meant to deal with it? Cry? Rage? Drink?
Yes: drink!
I picked myself up off the floor, washed my face, threw some party clothes and mascara on, then headed to the bar that I knew all of my friends would be in…
And, for some reason, I called TBM on the way.
We got drunk. Blind drunk. So drunk that I couldn’t remember anything after the first three shots of tequila and four bottles of Reef. I have no clue how the night went, but I do have a brief recollection of calling GB and giving him some (well deserved) grief down the phone. I also vaguely remember screaming, “It’s over!”
Imagine my surprise when I awoke the next morning in an unusual bed, in an unusual bedroom.
TBM’s bed.
And he was in it beside me.
“Did we…?” I asked him.
“Yup,” he said, smiling.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
We had slept together, apparently. To this day, I have zero recollection of doing it. I was so drunk. So, so drunk. Maybe the most drunk I’ve ever been, to this day.
“You were all over me last night,” TBM explained. “It was awesome. What are you doing later?”
I looked around the bedroom and almost gasped at the sight. It was a state. Peeling wallpaper, piles of all sorts everywhere, cabinet and dresser tops overflowing with empty bottles and dirty plates.
Gross.
What the actual fuck had I done?
I’d like to say that I never saw GB and TBM again after my first heartbreak, but I did.
I’m a fucking moron like that.
This comes next in the dating timeline: Number 4: The Actor.
Thank you so much for reading my little blog today! 🖤
You can read the entire Goth Boy story, from start to finish, right here.
If you fancy reading something else, here are a few places you could start:
