with a capital h

September 2015

So I bought him, us, tickets to the World Cup, the All Blacks in Cardiff for his birthday in March. A pretty special experience. He loves rugby, loves the all blacks and loves his, our, country. The perfect present. I thought I’d spoil him, treat him – surprise him, not only with the ticket, but also with the fact that I had organised his best friends and him and I to all go to Wales for the weekend to celebrate his arrival to London.

It was the highlight of his birthday, he said.

Then we broke up.

Then I found out about her.

Then came everything between…

Now? Now I find out she’s coming to London.

I was already feeling a fool, feeling humiliated, that I was now going to be going away with my ex, on a trip I had planned when we were together. A trip I put a lot of time, effort and thought in to it – not to mention the money.

Despite my matching passion for our national side, I have already considering not going. But our friends and I keep reminding me how much I should be going. How we’re fine and it’s not worth missing an incredible experience over. He’s been in contact, making digs about me not being in contact for ages, flirting, trying to be more like a normal version of us again. I haven’t taken the bait, but have been pleasant and nice, knowing this trip was coming up. So was his permanent relocation to London.

But now I find out she’s coming to London. And she gets here two days before we leave for Wales…I really don’t know if I can go. Not because of my feelings for him now, but because of my feelings then. I put myself out there back then, I showed him, and will now be reminding him, of then, of how much I once cared.

Talking about humiliated.

Humiliated with a capital H.

xo bambi

distanced hearts club ♥

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