...aaand I'm back.

Yeah alright I know. It's been a while. Again. I suck. No excuses - other than my innate and often extreme laziness. I'll try harder, honest. Indeed, get ready for a veritable flurry of posts over the next few days!

To be fair, I have been busy. And I have also been dumped, unceremoniously and without explanation, after five (mofoing) years. Count 'em. I have.

It's a weird thing being dumped, especially from a non-exclusive relationship. A lot of people seemed to be surprised that I was so upset, the attitude being 'hey he was sleeping with someone else anyway - why care?' Well, as I've explained here before, just because your relationship is non-exclusive doesn't mean you don't love the person. And I did. Deeply. It had been five (mofoing) years after all, you tend to grow fond of someone in that amount of time.

The manner of the dumping was in equal parts shit and bizarre. I say shit as it was disingenuous and over the phone. Not quite post-it note, but still. Bizarre because... it just was. Here, I'll sketch you a timeline of how it went:

(Backstory: after massive row last year we split, he begs for forgiveness, I relent, we're back together)


Sunday: I return from Dublin having seen Anton and Erin Puttin' on the Ritz (of which more later) on a massive downer 'cos the show was so awesome and now it's over.


Monday: Hitherto Strictly generally and Anton specifically hating Bloke phones to say he's got us tickets for POTR in Gateshead the following Sunday (day before Valentine's) as a surprise gift. Surprised? I'm speechless! Huge deal for him to agree to this, HUGE. Much excitement.


Tuesday/Wednesday: Mostly, I'm happy dancing about going to see POTR again.


Thursday: Bloke phones first thing in the morning as I'm sitting down to work. Says he's been thinking about our relationship for months now, and dumps me with no particular explanation of what he's been thinking. After all it was him that so desperately wanted to get back together. Once again, I'm speechless. He goes on to explain that I'm going to POTR alone - he only ever bought one ticket as a way to force himself to finally dump me. I hang up, furious, and spend the day being alternately hurt, angry and crying.


Friday: I'm angry. All day. Bloke starts trying to get in contact, eventually sending me a stream of DMs on Twitter which don't really say much.


Saturday: After a good night's sleep, some trashy TV (Hustle and WWE Smackdown, since you asked) and some serious retail therapy I feel much better and tweet that I do. DMs continue, mostly along the lines of 'You shouldn't be ok, did our relationship mean so little to you?' I don't (and won't) dignify this bollocks with a response. 


Sunday: I go and see POTR alone. I go in feeling horribly tragic. I come out smiling. Life goes on.

See? Bizarre! The POTR ticket thing is just truly odd. I suspect the intention was not to make me feel better, but it did. Muchly. Thus the ultimate conclusion from all of this: Anton and Erin tickets are cheaper than therapy and ultimately as effective! Trufax.