I Got Two Timed For Too Long And Here’s What I Learned

I REMEMBER the day it all came out because it was my twenty-seventh birthday.

On that day, the universe said to me, “Hey Alex, guess what?” I said “Hey, what?”

It simply smiled and looked down at me. I smiled and looked up. We both smiled back at each other.

Then the universe said:

WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR GODDAMN FACE YOU LITTLE ARROGANT PUSSY ASS BITCH BECAUSE GONE ARE THE MUTHA FUCKING DAYS OF USING THAT 20 YEAR OLD BODY TO GET AWAY WITH CRAZY ASS BITCH BEHAVIOUR YOU’RE OVER THE GODDAMN HILL NOW YOU LITTLE TURD AND GUESS WHAT HAPPENS TO GIRLS IN THEIR LATE 20’S YOU IGNORANT LITTLE NUMPTIE?! THEY GET TWO TIMED. ESPECIALLY IF THEY DON’T WISE UP TO THAT FUCK BOY BEHAVIOUR OKAY? THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS. SO GET IN THAT MUTHA FUCKING CAR AND GO SORT THIS SHIT OUT WITH THAT ARROGANT SOCIOPATHIC ASSHOLE YOU’VE BEEN CHASING AROUND THE WORLD FOR 23 GODDAMN MONTHS. FUCKING SORT IT OUT. YOU’RE AN ADULT NOW. SO ADULT.

So naturally, I did what any slightly unhinged woman with a penchant towards neurosis, a strong belief in angels and the universe, and a love for dramatic blog inducing stories would do.

I got in my car at 6am on the Sunday morning and drove to his house unannounced.

Duuuuuuh.

You see, he’d told me he was coming to my birthday drinks the night before. He had promised. But at the last minute, he made an excuse not to come. This was the exact same thing he had done to me on my 26^th birthday, and I’d threatened if he dare ruin my birthday for the second year in the row, he would be dumped. He PROMISED he would not do that. He SWORE there was no way in hell he wouldn’t come to my birthday again.

SO when he decided not to show, yet again. I think a part of my brain might have actually malfunctioned.

I rocked up to his house. He didn’t answer. I rang the bell. I pounded on his window. I went down the side of the house and tried to get in the side door. I knew where the spare key was, and just as I was climbing the drain pipe, he came outside and just looked at me. He didn’t say anything. It was as though he wasn’t even remotely surprised to find a 27-year-old woman scaling his wall at 6am on a Sunday morning with last night’s dress on.

There wasn’t anyone else over or anything. Just a pizza box and some smoked doobie butts.

I asked him why he didn’t come to my birthday? He said he didn’t know. I asked him if he had a present. He said no. I asked him if he loved me. He said yes. But he loves someone else too and the two aren’t mutually exclusive. One doesn’t exist separately to the other. He said as perfect as we were together, he knows I will never accept that.

I said who dafuq else do you love? He told me it was his ex-gf.

I asked how on earth she fitted into this equation?!  HOW had we gone SO long without even the slightest mention of this ex??!!? We have spoken about everything. Past relationships. Failed loves. Future dreams. We had TRAVELED TOGETHER.  He had even told me at most he would want to catch up for a beer with his ex.

But it turned out, she had been on the scene the entire time. He had, in actual fact, been seeing two girls concurrently for just under two years (with some breaks here and there).

Prior to planning his holiday with me, just 4 weeks earlier, he had been in Europe with the other girl. He had told me it was a solo trip and no you can’t come but I will see you ASAP. We’ll skype. Lol.

Contrary to popular expectations, I didn’t cry. Not then, and not even in the months afterwards.

I just sucked it up and thought…fuck. I got played.

I’ve finally come to the point where I am able to reflect on all the things I should have seen but didn’t. Here they are:

• Someone changing their sheets too often is not a good thing: The only thing worse than unknowingly sharing a person, is the thought of sharing bed crust with said person. I just thought it was his passive aggressive way of saying, ‘Um, your fake tan and mascara are making a mess of my sheets…can ya not?!’ I thought he was really clean….lol. You dirty little bastard. Ya got me!

• If someone won’t help with your bags: A picture says a thousand words, but this only needs to say one: ASSHOLE. If a man lets you carry this many bags while he casually walks ahead with one tiny backpack, chances are he is the kinda guy doesn’t really give a FUCK. You are not that important to him. Do you know why? There’s plenty more where you came from. Props to him though, he was  “teaching me a lesson for packing too much”.

• Hear what they’re saying, not what you want to hear: When someone says “don’t get too attached because I am going to Cuba for 3 months” Even if you’ve only been dating for one month, what they’re saying is…  “Don’t get too attached because I am going to Cuba for 3 months”. Even if they don’t actually end up going to Cuba (in this case he didn’t) the fact post coital cuddling makes him want to “go to Cuba for 3 months” probs isn’t ideal…

• They mention the big ‘C’:  These days dabbling in Chlamydia is so on trend. It’s like a buzzword of hipster free love. You’re not cool unless you’ve had a Chlamydia scare. That, as well as reading ‘Sex at Dawn’ and debating its relevance to modern day love. But hey! No judgment here. People seem to have replaced commitment with “Chlamytment’ – instead of swapping trust and loyalty, you swap an infection. I never had Chlamydia and I haven’t ever had an STI. But there was a really weird moment there where he freaked out he had Chlamydia and I was just like…um…I haven’t slept with anyone since I started sleeping with you, 11 months ago…and we literally use condoms 24/7?! Why are you implying I have given you an STI? Have YOU been with someone else? To which he replied: “No”. Lol.

  

• They always use protection: I’m not encouraging the “pull out” method as birth control. But when you’ve been with someone long enough, it’s perfectly viable. Especially if the bitch be crazy and goes full blown lunatic on the pill…(dat me). If after a year or so of seeing someone, they’re still reaching for the dingers, you’ve got yourself a two-timer.
  Side note: At least he was being responsible. That’s really nice of him. You can remember that small fact when you’re driving 120km/h down punt road towards the muthafucker you’re gonna absolutely pulverize because how the fuck could you do this and why would you do this it is so unfair and unnecessary couldn’t you have just been honest I mean what’s it to you if you lost me jesus christ you fucking arse hole don’t just sit there and act like I am over reacting I will react however the fuck I want you just told me you are in love with two women and you’ve been fucking us both for two years and we were on holidays together but you were still talking to her and vice versa and seriously is this even happening how does this EVEN happen I am so angry I think my brain is going to explode from my butt.

•  Stalk social media: I don’t mean to brag, but I think I might be gifted at stalking. Especially internet stalking.  My brain is wired to remember intricate details of people’s lives and find out things they don’t want me to know. But you see that’s the beautiful irony of me having been two timed for almost two years!

The truth is, had I been slightly more thorough in my online ‘investigations’ I could quite easily have discovered his ‘solo trip to Istanbul and Greece’ was in actual fact, a couple’s holiday! Rofl. Did you have a good time, guuuuuuys?! The pics looked greeeeeat, wish I hadda been there!!! Serves me right for trusting someone, I suppose.

 

The lesson I have learned is forget Tunnel vision, I want a man with Funnell vision.

And do you know what I hope he’s learned? Don’t fuck with a crazy bitch that has a psycho blog. Sleeping with a writer and then sooking when they write about you is the equivalent of cracking it at pizza for making you thirsty. IT’S JUST WHAT HAPPENS. Ok?????

I remember I once promised him I would NEVER blog about him. I SWORE.

But guess what? I LIED.

muahahahahahhahahahahahaah.