If a relationship ends abruptly, you can feel awful pain or relief – which can be refreshingly uplifting. It depends on who did the dumping.
As the person who was dumped from a great height after embarrassing my almost-girlfriend at a wedding, the first 24 hours passed in a haze of depression. I was very close to ringing her or at the very least texting her about her decision to break it off. Thankfully, my pride (and stubbornness) prevented me from reaching out. By the time the ‘how dare she do that to me?’ feeling had subsided, I felt a tad down but at least not keen to investigate why any further.
Thank goodness for Bridgette, who agreed to take me out for dinner and – despite my list of exes growing alarmingly long – insisted that it wasn’t ‘me’, in this case, it was very much ‘her’ and her loss. Besides, I didn’t like cats and she had several.
We then agreed, rather depressingly, that when you reach ‘the fifth floor’ – ie hit your 50s – the amount of suitable dates, is well, less.
Having put the world to rights (or at least my world) over our usual two bottles of Vino Collapso, I felt much better on my tube ride home, so much so I stupidly felt I should send a voice message to my ex, letting her know that I was fine (think Friends and the embarrassing scene where Rachel tells Ross she is over him… I know, I know, but that was my drunken reality in the moment. I was showing how mature and chilled I was about being dumped… ‘Hi, it’s me, hope all’s well with you. Let me know if you want to talk but just so you know, I am over you – and that, my friend, is closure.’
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