Holiday Revelations: Part Dos

My amazingly good mind powers were working a treat as we sped over the run way and into the city. Jumping off the bus, still freaking out, we hot footed it up the 72 steps and into our building. Just as I pull out my phone to look at my newest text he bursts through the door. Cock. Bastard. Shit. 

Ok, number 1. I do not want to EVER see an ex, recent or not, being sweaty and travel worn. 

Number 2. Seriously what the buggery is he playing at?!

Luckily, at this precise moment my mother chooses to unlock the door to the flat. What was waiting inside can only be described as a small lake and a lot of ceiling on the floor. Apparently someone up there was looking down and saw we needed a massive distraction. Thank you (I did go to two cathedrals following this, to thank him in person). 


So, what followed was a mass clean up and a trip to the rates office. Far Away Boy decided it was an awesome idea to come with me. I was highly unamused at this prospect as I'm sure you'll appreciate. I still couldn't even look at him, let alone talk in his direction.


Off we trotted, hot and bothered and still with my skinnies and flight socks on (I have never felt more unattractive). 


I came right out with it...why had he come? 


Wait for it...to be friendly. Couldn't he be friendly????


Short answer: NO!!


I warmed up a bit for the sake of my own sanity but didn't really give much off in the way of this-is-totally-ok-for-you-to-turn-up-to-the-airport-like-this. However, this apparently meant he could flirt with me. 


Now, I may well have warmed up but I did not give him the ok to flirt and be all touchy feely. Definitely NOT ok. I made excuses that I was sweaty. And with each tickley poke I got more and more confused.


When he finally left I was still in sheer shock. However, I felt relieved that it was over. I didn't have anything else left to dread. 


That was, of course until he came to my beach. 


Before you ask, no this beach does not have my name on it (the sea has a tendency to wash it away no matter how many times I write it) and no I cannot purchase it. Shame, really.


But, Far Away Boy does not, and never has in his adult life ever gone to this beach.


So, when we bumped into him in the bar with scratches down his chest and hickies all over his neck, I was less than amused. 


I clearly also have developed a tendency to blurt out questions when I'm in shock. Like, why have you come to this beach, you never do!!


His answer was gesticulating towards the girl he was with.


Of course. Yes. 


My mother, in her most kindest of ways trying to defuse the situation as I had lost the power of my voice and the inability to look above knee level, asked what he'd done to himself. Brilliant. He came up with a very imaginative story of diving into the sea. Ha.


I removed myself from the situation, pulled down my sunglasses and had a little cry with some 7UP and my Mummy.


I was in utter shock. He made no sense. Well he hadn't made sense. The message was now loud and clear.


So, after an emotional couple of days I woke up on Friday feeling pretty good about it. I was well shot of him. I mean, if he is immature enough to be OK with hickies, I am not down with that!! Also, mother found out the girl he's dating is 18. Emotional immaturity is all I'm saying right now!!


There we have it, then. 


The reason I have managed to get to the ahhh single stage a week after this melodrama. 


I have decided I am more than ready for some actually new men, no one from the past and someone I can have fun with without feeling the need to save them from themselves :) 


I've even joined an online dating thing...here come the boysssssss!!

Holiday Revelations

Taking a sip of my tall mug of English tea, standing in my underwear in my sister's kitchen, I sigh "Ah, single."

I've not really had chance to breathe since I came back from Gibraltar and my new episode with Far Away Boy.

I guess I should go on to explain how I came to be sighing a sigh of relief of having a very muchly patched up heart and a soul that is now back from rehab.

In May, I shared a drunken phone call with Far Away Boy, in which he proceeded to tell me that he loved me and wanted to see me when I was in Gib over the summer.  As the conversation drew to a close he promised me he would call two days later when it wasn't 3am. I made it quite clear that if he wasn't really going to call to please not tell me he was. Repeatedly he ensured me he would, he'd missed me so of course he would. 

Sunday came and went with no phone call, and only a text (that I sent) saying "I really thought you'd call this time". With this, Far Away Boy (I considered shortening his name to FAB but for obvious reasons this is not a good acronym) he took it upon himself to cut me out of his life, again. 

With two weeks to go before I jumped on that plane with Mummy dearest he decides to plaster all over Facebook that he likes someone else. How considerate. 

So, with a heavy heart and a nervous stomach, a fortnight later I am on my way. 

With plans of resolutions and street ignoring set into place on the flight, I step out into the sunshine and board the bus to our flat. 

Then, with one unfortunate look to my left, the wind has been knocked out of me and I can barely utter a word. 

Walking across the road towards the airport entrance is non other than Far Away Boy. 

All plans of any ignoring and the lists of resolutions melt away as I stutter a text to confirm if this is purely a figment of my imagination. He's supposed to be in Japan!! He's not even supposed to be back on the Rock until Monday!! Brilliant. 

As we drive off, me in almost hyper-ventilating and Mum telling me I must of been hallucinating, I am in utter shock and the only question that keeps running through my head is - what does he want from me?!