I just got up and left the pub when he came in. I had to. My feelings of dread were overwhelming me so much and I really didn't want to stay there watching them talk to each other.
It wasn't that I don't know him; I do. It wasn't that I don't like him; I do. My decision was based on the fact that I'd got this text message from Tortoise Face the other day, the first one she'd sent me for a while. It said; "Hiya. Got some juicy gossip for you if yr interested. It's about me! :-) xxx" She seemed ever so happy in that little text but I knew it was going to be bad news for me even as I rang her. "Are you sitting down", she said. After a series of, ahem, one night stands over the past year my gorgeous little ginger ex has finally decided to start "dating" again. Someone had asked her out and she'd said yes and they'd gone out for a meal and she likes him and she would definitely date him again if he asked.
I knew that was what was roughly coming but I couldn't believe my own shocked reaction to it. I was absolutely gutted. Like most people who are dumped by someone you like you always hold up hope that one day things will be sorted out and that maybe just maybe that the spark will be reignited and the relationship continued. Hearing that your ex has started dating again finally means that, yes, this is really and truly over and it will never get back to what you wanted and never will.
Get used to it. Which was basically why she was saying it.
Then the other hand came through and I was ever so glad for her that she'd finally found someone she likes a bit. He's going to have his hands full with her but I used to get ever so worried about her being alone and long for her to get over me and her other ex, her husband, and find someone who she likes and who can look out for her and give her lots of nice cuddles.
So when I saw Jay standing at the bar in the packed out, smokey and very noisy Neptune that Sunday afternoon after our lovely walk, I said to the people round my table, Tort , Rosie, Emily and Eric the Fish; "Probably going to home after this pint. Can't drink anymore because I'm driving", I was in effect laying the path straight out of the pub door and straight home and well away from what my imagination envisaged. Jay started over towards us, said "hi", shook my hand, winked (winked!) at me and said "How are ya mate?". "Fine," I said. T's little face lit up.
Bless her. I got up with as much dignity as I could muster and made my way out, pushing through the packed boozy crowd, deep breathing, holding back the tears (fears?). Just as I approached the door I got a glimpse of another vision, a medusa, a woman who was once beautiful, but, according to Greek mythology, she offended Athena, who changed her hair into snakes and made her face so hideous that all who looked at her were turned to stone. It adding yet more layers of fear and awkwardness to what was already a seething mass of snaking tentacles in my head. Luckily I'm well practiced at ignoring her mad arse and the sweep past Julia was painless, rather enjoyable and ever so slightly empowering.
God, I'm so angry at that woman, at them women, at both of them. Loving me and giving me so much positive attention then withdrawing it and being cruel to me. Life sucks doesn't it? Well mine does...