Where the fuck do I even begin?
The few months I spent with the Soft Boy turned out to be quite the rollercoaster. I felt very strongly about him but ultimately my relationship with him added so much chaos to my life that I elected to end things with him. I think it was the right decision, but that doesn’t make it an easy one. I don’t love the way I left things, with an angry shouty phone call and hanging up before he had a chance to respond, but what’s done is done, and the result is the same – we are no more. I’m sad, hurt, mad. All the things. But resolute, nevertheless.
Then, I took a trip home to England where my rage followed me and led to a fight with my mother that was volatile enough for her to leave me stranded with my bags on the side of a major road, after I screamed at her to let me out of the fucking car. That was followed a few hours later by a lengthy message from my now-former meta, letting me know that I had been inconsiderate of her feelings in my break-up with her husband. Awesome.
The same events that led to that break-up came close to ending my relationship with The Drummer, too. It’s going to take some time for trust to be restored there, but we are working on it. If it weren’t the solid foundation that he and I have built over the past three years, I think we would be talking about quite a different outcome now.
And now for a plot twist:
I am having dinner with The Tattoo Collector next week. I reached out to him with a “Hey, hope you’re doing well and life is good” type message and he responded with such enthusiasm at hearing from me that I plucked up enough courage to ask him to meet. It’s no secret (to him, or anyone else) that he remains in the forefront of my thoughts even after almost two years since we ended, and I am so excited to see him and reconnect – in whatever capacity he has room for in his life at this point. Losing him was devastating but I think we have both benefitted from some time and space, and I am fucking thrilled to be back in touch after a year and a half of no contact. He hasn’t changed, and neither have I. It has been especially validating to hear that he has continued to think of me, too. I think I had convinced myself that perhaps I wasn’t as important to him as I had initially thought and it has been heartwarming to be proven so utterly wrong. He still cares, still wants to know me and be around me. He has missed me too.
So, that’s where things are right now. Who the hell knows what will happen next. I fucking don’t.
Happy Halloween.
Fat and Slutty 