The bleeping audacity of these men. People keep telling me to get my ex off his pedestal but I think I paid for dinner two or three times in our entire relationship, not for want of trying.
Bad day today. My plans have cancelled and up until five minutes ago Saturday was the day my ex would have walked through the door an hour earlier than I expected shouting, "Sorry I'm early, I just got too excited to see you! Look how beautiful you are!" and we'd have gone and had a nice day out, gone for dinner and just laughed for the entire weekend. Or we'd go to a gig and he'd say how proud he was to be seen with me, and how lucky he was to have such a clever, attractive, funny girlfriend.
Now I get to sit on my own with my cats while he replaces me with a woman he didn't like the first time round coz he's a bleeping coward who can't stand up to his crappy aggro family, and I fend off the advances of fuckboys who expect me to deliver myself to their doorstep wrapped in a bow for some mediocre sex like they're doing me a favour. Joy. I'd rather tit in my hands and clap.
Solo hobbies are hard at the moment. Everything feels bleeping bleak generally and everything I had to look forward is gone. We move in a relatively small scene (where sadly, 95% of the men are trolls and underachievers) of gigs and festivals so my plans still exist, just with the humiliation of seeing him with her. The last decade of my life has been a tit sandwich and I wish I could just lay down and will myself out of existence.