An informal post just to say HAHAHAHAHA I am a dick.
Have you ever seen Maury Povich? And he sits there and he’s like “when it comes to 4 year old Lillian, John, you are NOT the father!” And everyone cheers? I need to go on a show like that except he would say “when it comes to jumping to conclusions, Sara, you ARE a fucking idiot. Congratulations.”
I fucked up. *puppy dog eyes, twirls hair, bites lip* Forgive me?
You know when newspapers have to print the next day that they made an error? The headline reads “Correction.” Ok so *clears throat* Yesterday we reported Paul might have been fraternising with the enemy. Well my assumptions they knew each other were correct, my assumptions they were mates and having a laugh about all of this were not.
I spent an hour on the phone with Paul this morning after I posted “…thank you, next?” Do you know how hard it is to get Paul to commit to a phone call? I can’t recall a time I’ve ever spoken that man over the phone without it being strictly text messages. It took 6 months and a mutual hatred of the same person for him to be all “I can call and explain everything” and I was sitting on my bed, concentrating really hard to ignore how nervous I felt. Not because I was afraid of what he was going to say, just because his accent and his voice makes my clit tingle.
I’ve always known Franks was a broken human being but I was unaware (and yet unsurprised) when I learned all about the monster he really is. Details not permitted here of course, people don’t need hear the same stories I did this morning. But the freedom I feel is euphoric. I feel nothing, it is all gone. Actually, that’s a lie. Despite all the chaos he’s caused, I still feel happy. Happy that even after 12 months of torment, it never amounted to anything serious and I didn’t commit to somebody as dangerous and as insecure in his masculinity as him. I obviously didn’t really know him at all.
Ok here’s the part that’ll really make Paul squirm because I’m going to be all sappy and serious and he hates that and guess what? Thousands of people are going to read it as well… so deal. Paul, your mates call you chunky and I call you freckles, but the first thing anyone should call you is a good man. You’re a man with more integrity in his little finger than most men I know have in their entire body. Also… you’re hot. *school girl giggle* You made it very clear you didn’t appreciate being put in the same category as a play boy and I humbly admit I was wrong to group you in the crowd of disappointment. You care. You looked out for me, you have always looked out for me and you told me what I needed to hear to protect me. I should not have expected anything less from a man of honour. I would have understood if you just thought nothing of all this, said nothing and did nothing. You didn’t owe me anything or any kind of explanation, especially after making it clear you didn’t see us going anywhere anymore. But you wouldn’t let me get away with thinking that I was as much of an idiot as I felt like before you called, so for that, I appreciate you. I will now quietly drift off into your memory bank of girls you once knew and leave you be, but let’s be honest, I’ll always be the favourite girl you really liked that one time. Ok? No arguments. Thanks Chunky Monkey 😘
I think we can all agree right here and now it’s time for this blog to head in a slightly different direction for a little while. Whilst my humiliating love life has been a constant source of entertainment for the last 6 months, I’ve had no choice but to take it all in stride, have a laugh about the ridiculousness of it all and share it with you. But it’s time to re-align myself and write about the things I love, instead of just talking about boys who stress me out. Eww 🙈 Jiu Jitsu is back and I’m ready to focus on getting comp fit. I want to be ready to blitz my way through every tournament next year – being faster, stronger and more technically skilled than anyone I come across. Before we know it, things will go back to normal, we’ll all be able to head out to gigs again soon and sitting around with nothing to do will be a thing of the past. Nothing feels as good as being with the squad again, seeing our friends play live and being together. Vans, band shirts and a Guinness in hand is the official uniform of a good time and I’m so ready to wear it again.
I look forward to writing more about my love of Jiu Jitsu, travelling and my life in all other aspects aside from love. We can definitely give that broken record a rest for a minute.
As for you, Freckles, I’m always going to keep one eye on you 👀 the one that got away.