Anyway.

Six months ago, I became single. I've blogged about it before. On my own blog. Someone told me I was a rockstar for how I was handling it. I'm still pretty proud of that because, yes. I DID handle it like a rockstar. I guess six months is long enough time for me to wait before really letting loose with some stuff, isn't it? Besides.. if he's still reading after six months, then clearly his x-box is being neglected and he should go give it some lovin'; those Guitar Hero songs on expert won't play themselves. I'm assuming he'll be far too busy with The Crackwhores to bother.

First, allow me to brief you on after the initial 'whattheballs?' of it all wore off, roughly 36.5 hours after it actually happened, I kind of realised how awesome it was and how it'd been a long time coming, really. I'd had doubts. Big ones. And for whatever stupid, girly reason, I didn't act on them when they first came up. Note to Self: Go with your gut. If you suspect someone is a douche, assume they're a douche and get the balls away while you still can!!

I still think being single is pretty effing amazing, actually. I pretty much love it so much I doubt I'll be rushing into any relationships again any time soon. I guess it'll happen at some point, but I'm kind of loving being unattached right now. But the fact that I had my doubts and my concerns and never acted on them? Well that just leaves me a little disappointed in myself, really.

I've been passive aggressive with this stuff before. Like that time I talked about how Glandular Fever/Mono is particularly gross because what if the guy you were kissing was kissing someone else, and you caught it from him carrying it on to you? Or that time I mentioned the person who told me my photos were 'generic'? What about the post about me being an art snob yet how I had to sit there looking at sketches and say I liked them when I didn't, because they were actually really bad? Or what about that time I mentioned how much people who think they can sing when they can't really, really bug me? Interesting, isn't it?

The part that really bothers me is my role in all of this; by the time the last few months rolled around, I'd gotten love and hate so genuinely confused I had no idea what the hell I was feeling any more. Incidently it was hate. And now it's resentment because I sat in a room in Scotland for two weeks, bored out of my fricking mind when all I really wanted to do was stay in London. Or go to the Greek Islands and Barcelona with J. Yes. Big, bold statement number one. By the end of it... I pretty much hated him. I'm not going to deny it. I knew it wasn't right. I knew He wasn't right. I knew I hated him. But the Dumb-Girl inside me who was so convinced she'd never do better stuck with it. Dumb-Girl really annoys me sometimes.

Dumb-Girl nearly knocked herself out on a ramp today. That was annoying, too. And made Smart-Girl very dizzy for several minutes. Smart-Girl also now wears a green t-shirt at work. Score. That doesn't actually mean anything. Just that it's green.

But still. It was such a relief to get back to London and to see J dancing around on the platform waiting for me, knowing that for the next few days I could travel the way I need to travel, the way I love to travel, and do what I want without any concern for anyone else.

Okay. That's not entirely true. I had concern for my awesome travel buddies. You know, the ones who let me stop for photos? J and A. We saw fireworks. In a park. In the freezing cold. It was awesome. I got very depressed five days later when I had to leave A and go meet him in London. I did not want to leave A.

I'm just annoyed at myself for noticing all the stupid things that should've been deal-breakers. Like that time he pissed my BFF off so much that she physically wanted to strangle him. She's not a violent person. And how not just the BFF, but pretty much all my female friends, including the ones he was friends with or knew as well, told me they always thought he was a douche but never said anything to me because they thought the fact that my then boyfriend was a douche was probably a little awkward to bring up in conversation. Second Note to Self: If BFF doesn't approve, the boy is no good. Be done with him. If not just BFF, but all your female friends don't approve... runthefuckaway. Fast.

Or how about finding out that he'd asked one of those friends for photos of her in her underwear. While he was with me? Smart-Girl knows better than that, but Dumb-Girl clearly knows how to Jedi-Mind-Trick Smart-Girl's ass all over the place. I hate Dumb-Girl. I hope she trips on her own shoes and breaks her mouth so she shuts the hell up for a while and let's Smart-Girl run this show, because stuff like that IS a dealbreaker!

I suppose the clarity of this is that I'm not upset it ended. I don't miss it. I don't want it back. I know I'm better than that. It's the disappointment and frustrations I have with myself for knowing all along it was wrong, and pursuing it anyway because I didn't think I could do better. And hell, for a while, I even managed to convince myself that there was nothing better. Dumb-Girl rears her ugly head yet again. What a cow. Clearly there is better. I'm just mad at myself for not seeing it sooner.

Why stay with someone who makes you feel inferior? Or tries to change you? Or has no idea how to clean his front yard? Or who's parents and family practically ignore you and then when they do talk to you, tell you there's something wrong with you because you don't want to eat their gunky oil-swimming food? Sorry. I just don't want to die of a heart attack before the age of thirty. Why stay with someone who makes so little effort? Why stay with someone who spent a large portion of your holiday sitting in front of a computer playing online games? Why stay with someone who thinks you're stupid? The guy who takes away your spirit, claims to know you but really only knows the version of you that he wanted you to be?

The biggest things that should've made me realise?

He'd never be the kind of guy who would wander the streets of NYC with me all night, just to see the city in the sunrise. He'd never stand in front of something monumental like the Grand Canyon and stop, just to breathe it in. He wouldn't be like Nick in Nick and Norah. Or Ben in Licence to Wed, or Robbie in The Wedding Singer. He didn't match me. He would never match me. Our values were too different. Our morals were too different, and our ideals were too different. And if a guy won't wander NYC with me, or stop to breathe in the moment of wherever we might be, whatever we might've been standing in front of, then those are the biggest deal-breakers.

And more importantly... why stay with a guy who apparently loves women so much he can't stick to just one of them and then lets you spend two weeks in Scotland when you don't want to, knowing all along that he's probably going to break up with you when you get home? But also the guy who apparently respects women so much, but lets the one he supposedly loved waste her time with him. I don't believe it was a spontaneous breakup at all. I don't believe anything he said in the last few months. Heck, in hindsight I don't believe any of it. I don't believe there wasn't someone else. I don't believe I didn't meet her.

Oh well. One man's trash is another man's treasure.