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Posts Tagged ‘Break-Up’

  1. Dear Dickhead

    February 1, 2011 by Tinkerbell Jayne

    Dear Dickhead,

    Yes you, you know who you are - you are a Dickhead.

    Sigh.

    Oh how you’ve changed, you never used to be this Dickhead that you have become. Or maybe you’ve always been a Dickhead and you just have an unexplainable gift for hiding it.

    You were my best friend, but now you’re simply just a Dickhead. I was blinded by your sneaky disguise – with your sarcastic sense of humour that was so similar to mine, your northern roots and northern charm, and your ability to make me feel so bloody happy. Well, you’re not making me happy anymore – you’re seriously pissing me off Dickhead.

    I totally misjudged you Dickhead, I thought you were kind and I thought you genuinely cared about me; you were there for me when I was down and out, when I’d been dumped, when I was sad and upset and moaning about hating men because all they do is break your heart. You proved me wrong by being a gentleman and comforting me, and showing what I thought was sincere affection for a friend. You were always there for a cuddle, a giggle, a chat, a pint, a shot, you were an awesome flatmate, and I can’t thank you enough for the hundreds of cups of tea you made me – cheers for that Dickhead.

    I cherished you, I loved hanging out with you (oh how we laughed, eh Dickhead?), I thought I’d found a friend for life, a friend I dearly loved.

    But enough with the deep, meaningful and pointless crap, because by God I was wrong, wasn’t I Dickhead?

    Because one not-so-special winter’s day you decided to be your true self and show your true colours. It’s as if you awoke one day with a sudden vendetta against me and decided to bring me down. You lead me on, messed with my feelings, only to ultimately do what all males seem to do – trample all over me. Okay, fair enough, it takes two to tango, yeah maybe I loved you a little too much, and trust me, my biggest regret is acting on my feelings. But you responded, you acted on your feelings too. The difference is mine were genuine, and yours were clearly not.

    Tut tut Dickhead, you really shouldn’t play around with dangerous words such as the risky big L word, not if you genuinely don’t mean it. Everything you ever said to me was a translation for ‘I’m bored, so you will have to do for now.’ These past two months with you has been like living with a schizophrenic – one day you would be winning me over with your sweet, charming words, saying the things you know I so desperately wanted to hear. Yet the next day you would forget about me; you would toss me out like bad milk, I was old news … only to be recycled a week later when you were bored again, and you could see I was obviously naive enough to gobble up all your second-hand sweet talk.

    *Shakes Head*

    Dickhead, Dickhead, Dickhead, if you wanted me to feel like a fool, you certainly achieved your goal. Task accomplished Dickhead! I thought after all the bollocks I’ve been through, that I had learnt my lesson, that I would never be played again and that I could definitely recognise a Dickhead when I saw one. Bravo for playing me so dam well! If there was a Dickhead of the year award, you would win hands down. Because you really have made a fool out of me; you continued to be cruel, wanting to be with me one minute, then wanting someone else the next, and yet, somehow, stupidly, I was still pining for you, still keeping my fingers crossed that you would eventually pick me. I tried dating other people, but when you told me your (very negative) opinions of them and how you thought they were “not right” for me, instead of telling you to sod off and mind your own business, I took your comments so seriously. I even convinced myself that you were jealous, and that if I stopped dating, that you would finally choose to be with me.

    How dense was I to believe that? It was clearly never going to happen. And you pulled some fantastic lines out of the bag to make sure of that, didn’t you Dickhead? Lines that should have me made realise just how much of a Dickhead you are, lines that actually make me cringe just thinking about them, such as “But you’re out my league” and “I think your too good for me”, and nothing can top the one you delivered to me most recently: “I want to be with you, but I just need to be by myself right now.”

    So, the final straw came when just a week ago you performed your usual one act Dickhead play, confessing your “feelings” for me and trying it on once again, and then several days later you turn up at our flat with what appears to be your brand-spanking new girlfriend, flaunting your new found relationship in front of me, with the biggest, slyest, smuggest smile on your face.

    Really Dickhead? Really? You actually seemed shocked when I told you never to speak to me again. You seemed surprised, and confused. Did you really think I would be all fine and dandy about this? Did you really think it was okay, and not just a teensy weensy bit cruel?

    I’m actually confused myself, did I do something to piss you off ? Because as far as I’m concerned, I’ve been nothing but nice to you since the day you turned up on my doorstep, yes we’ve had our tiffs and silly arguments, but I was bloody good to you Dickhead. Not that I’m tooting my own horn, but let’s just stop for a moment and think back to just how good I was to you – I used to give you girl advice, I was always looking out for you, I cheered you up when you were down or homesick, I’ve taken care of you when you’ve been worse for wear on a many a nights out, I’ve even watched over you vomiting in the toilet, I looked after you when you’ve had nightmares, I even (foolishly) bought you a Christmas present, only to get nothing in return – yup, a tad embarrassing for me. And through all this you were on with me, then off with me, you were using me, and you were feeding me lies. So did you honestly really think I would be cool with you turning up at our flat with your new girl on your arm? Especially after you had fed me one of your classic Dickhead line’s just one week earlier?

    Believe me, I tried to act cool with it, you know how stubborn I am! I really tried my best to hide how I was honestly feeling, which was sick, angry, upset and absolutely disgusted. And for the record, it wasn’t about the girl, I have no problem with her, because let’s face it, she’s adorable and she has done nothing spiteful to me whatsoever –no, no Dickhead, this is about you! Because at the end of the day you are just a Dickhead, you’ve treated me with no respect, you’ve played me like a fool, and you’ve lost a dam good friend.

    But, congratulations, you’ve made all my ex-boyfriends looks like saints.

    So, this is my Goodbye and farewell to you Dickhead. I’m done. I’m sorry to do it so publicly, but let’s just call it revenge for playing me, lying to me, using me … oh and for that time you had wet the bed we were sharing one night. That seems fair.

    Pack up your stuff and leave; I hope you do make it to Australia in the end. And I hope you find whatever the hell it is you’re looking for.

    Lots of love (don’t take that literally Dickhead),

    The girl next door

    Tink

    P.S. If none of this makes much sense, you can always have a listen to the awesome tunes below to help the message get across:

    • Dickhead by Kate Nash – Includes the lyrics “I wish that you were more intelligent so that you could see what your doing is so sh*tty to me”
    • For a pessimist, I’m pretty optimistic by Paramore – Includes the lyrics “I put my faith you in so much baby, but you just threw it away”

    If your still struggling to understand the nature and meaning of this public ‘Dear Dickhead’ rant, then a few plays of Lilly Allen’s track F*k you should do the trick, lyrics include the very important message “F*k you”

    [Dad, if you’re reading this, I apologise for my language, but he seriously deserved it]

    Category Break-up's Suck, Dating and Mating, Tinkerbell Jayne | Tags: ,,, | 3 Comments

  2. Break up + SmartPhone = Emotional Hell

    December 15, 2010 by Tinkerbell Jayne

    The invention of mobile phones – phenomenal. I often wonder ‘What did we do before mobile phones?’ And a lot of us believe that in today’s modern world we couldn’t live without one. They are amazing.

    Until you’ve been dumped. And then your mobile phone becomes your number one enemy.

    When in you’re a relationship, your phone is that chirpy little device that beeps with joy several times a day to deliver text messages from your chosen one. It’s the tool you use to sometimes say things you couldn’t say face to face, such as ‘i luv u x’; maybe your phones even helped you embrace you’re more adventurous side, such as sexting (I hear it’s quite popular these days), your mobile phone is an important part of your relationship - after all, when two people meet and fancy each other, surely one of the first things they do is swap numbers.

    When you’ve been dumped however, your phone is not so amazing, your phone is the enemy; it becomes your constant reminder that he no longer cares. It’s silent. No Beeps. No Rings. Not one single vibration. And that silence says so much, it says ‘He doesn’t miss you.’

    But that’s not the worst part - mobile phones are Lethal Weapons; weapons of self destruction. Because along with the invention of mobile phones, came the invention of Drunk texting.

    Grim.

    When the ex doesn’t contact you, you tell yourself its fine and that you can live through it. But when your drunk at 3am, crying, and you miss them; your phone – still empty of messages (and love) – is practically begging you to contact your ex. It’s a phone for god sake, it wants to be used, its job is to be a form of communication; if it could speak it would be saying “Use me, please use me – Push my buttons.” And before you know it, you’re typing drunken texts to the ex.

    Or, if you’re like me, and sometimes a drunken text just won’t do it, you drunk-dial instead. Yup, regardless of the time, regardless of the fact that you can’t even speak properly, you make that decision to make an utter fool of yourself call him. Sometimes he’ll answer and you cry down the phone, but most of the time they don’t pick up, because they can guess why your calling. But not to worry, you can humiliate yourself even further by leaving a blubbering, emotional voicemail – something he can play over and over again to remind himself what a loser he used to date.

    All this crazy mobile phone behaviour - Not sexy. Not attractive. And certainly not the way to a man’s heart. When you’re going through a break-up, the phone you once loved ends up making your life miserable – can mobile phones get any more destructive??

    Yes, apparently they can, because some clever arsehole decided to invent smartphones!

    Four days before The Cool Guy dumped me, I bought a BlackBerry. I’ve never really been into smartphones, as long as I could text and call on my phone, I wasn’t too bothered about any must-have features or applications. The Cool Guy was the opposite; he was obsessed with his fancy phone, his could do just about everything (I hope it breaks!) It was constantly in his hand, he never put it down. Slightly annoying yes, but when I lost my brick phone one evening, and needed a replacement, I decided that I would try and be on his level and I so bought myself a brand new CrackBerry. I told the guy in the shop I wanted the works – good camera, internet, Facebook, Twitter, everything my boyfriend had, and so this nice young fella arranged it all for me.

    The first thing I did when it was up and running was download Foursquare, or as I like to call it, StalkSquare – an application that lets you check in anywhere in the world so that people can track your every move and you can track theirs. The Cool Guy was particularly into this application. He checked in everywhere he possibly could so that everyone could see where he was and so that he could collect badges and points (I’m starting to realise that maybe The Cool Guy was not such an appropriate name to give this person, maybe I should have gone with Phone Boy or The Geek).

    My first three days with the CrackBerry where great, I was getting into the whole smartphone thing, especially StalkSquare. Soon I was checking in anywhere I possibly could – from my favourite bars and pubs, to completely uninteresting and pointless places like train stations, and even my own flat (sad). I thought The Cool Guy would be really impressed, and I couldn’t wait to show him my new beloved CrackBerry.

    On the fourth day with my CrackBerry, I was dumped by The Cool Guy. And this is when I realised that Break up + Smart Phone = Emotional Hell.

    I wouldn’t have thought this at the time, but the upside of having a brick average mobile phone, is that when your ex isn’t calling, or isn’t replying to any of your messages, you have the luxury to decide why. You can tell yourself it’s because he’s asleep, or maybe the phone is turned off, or maybe he hasn’t read the messages because he has caught a terrible disease and is bed bound (anything’s better than admitting he just doesn’t care). You can literally chose from one of the hundreds of excuses you’ve stored in your head, as to why he is ignoring you.

    With a smartphone you don’t have this luxury; instead, no matter where you are or what you’re doing, your phone has the the ability to find out exactly where he is and what he is doing. All you have to do is go onto the StalkSquare app on your smartphone, and with the push of a button, you can see where he is.

    Your heart sinks :(

    He is not bed bound, he is not asleep, and his phone is not turned off, because StalkSquare is showing that just ten minutes ago he checked into a bar, a bar that will most likely be full of girls, drunk girls all looking for a gorgeous guy like him to pounce on. You realise he is not sat at home missing you, pining for you, because he’s too busy out on the town having a great time without you.

    So, that would be a good time to turn you’re phone off and lock it in a drawer somewhere for a while. Wouldn’t it? No, of course not, because for some reason us females seem to enjoy torturing ourselves. So we check his twitter, we check his facebook, we look at his photos – we basically drive ourselves crazy analysing every tiny detail of the ex’s online life:

    The_Cool_Guy is hungry – but what does this mean??

    The_Cool_Guy is hanging out with friends – Who is she?? I knew he was seeing someone else!!

    The_Cool_Guy is tired – Why is he so tired eh? What’s he been doing? Or rather, who has been doing??

    The words ‘Sad’ ‘Pathetic’ and ‘Stalker’ spring to mind. And as much as I hate to admit it, when it comes to break-ups I don’t handle them all that well, and I have been that Sad, Pathetic Stalker many many times in the past. I’ve been the girl who used Google translator at 4am on a Tuesday morning to translate something a Spanish girl wrote on my ex-boyfriends facebook wall, and then rang that ex-boyfriend and left him voicemails that sounded like what can only be described as big fat whales communicating under water.

    BUT. Not this time!

    Okay, so I’ll admit, for the first few days of the break-up from The Cool Guy I was constantly checking his twitter and his facebook, and seeing where he’d checked in. But I realised I was only causing myself more emotional drama. He wasn’t going to change his mind, and even if he was, he wasn’t going to channel it through Twitter. The only thing I would get out of Smartphone Stalking him, is upset.

    I had two choices – I could continue to keep looking, keep reading, keep stalking and make myself miserable through no fault of my own. Or I could Delete.

    I chose to delete. I deleted him off FB, Twitter and StalkSquare so that there was no way of me knowing where the hell he was, what he was doing or who he was doing it with. And I was so proud of myself for being strong and doing so. Sometimes I would get anxious, wondering what he was doing, and at times I even regretted blocking him on StalkSquare as it would have been a useful tool to help avoid running into him. But Blocking/Deleting him was definitely the right choice, and I advise anyone else going through a break-up/smartphone situation to do the same. After a few weeks I realised I couldn’t give a toss where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with ;)

    Tink Jayne x

    (Blog Post dedicated to my female work colleauges, for putting up with me, and for sharing their break-up stories with me)

    (… and for confiscating the CrackBerry off me when I was at my lowest)

    Category Break-up's Suck, Technology | Tags: ,,, | 6 Comments