Tuesday, June 10, 2014

it takes 10 months to get over someone you knew for 10 days

Editor's Note: We at the BLOW OFF (okay, we as in "Saaara") absolutely love getting guest posts. Whenever a reader is brave enough to share their tale of heartbreak, it reminds me why I started the blog in the first place. To make anyone going through a break up feel like they're NOT alone. If you have a BLOW OFF story you want to share, email us at theblowoffwtf@gmail.com. For now, this one breaks my heart...please read.

Absolutely ridiculous. I shock myself when I think of how long I’ve been pining over this guy. So many wasted hours and feelings stalking his Facebook. We aren’t even Facebook friends. I sound like a nutter and I am.

I met this guy last year travelling in France in the most picturesque, romantic little hostel so I was definitely doomed from the start. He was super hilarious and witty and loud and was one of those people who always knew what to say and how to put you at ease. I had never laughed so much. We hung out everyday, took trips to neighbouring towns and spoke about every little thing under the sun (except one BIG thing). We were platonic at first but I began to like him.


Now, I don’t mean to blow my own horn, but many people will tell you, travelling alone + being female in Europe = recipe for a creep magnet. It was so refreshing to be around this guy who seemed to want to have a laugh without getting anything else out of it. One night at the hostel, it was just him and I up late talking and I worked up the courage to hold his hand which I had hoped would lead to a kiss or at least a spoon. It was a very awkward few seconds, after which he said he had to pee and didn’t come back.

The next morning we pretended nothing happened, I’ll admit I was a little horrified. –I never grab boys hands, it’s just not a thing I normally do. Unless it’s giving someone a wet willy or tickling someone’s foot I am a timid little girl when it comes to making the first move. Either I had smelt funny, or he didn’t see me as more than a friend – which was painful but I was still relieved my little hand holding conundrum hadn’t changed our friendship. I decided to let my spooning urges be and accept that we were just buddies. That evening we went to a party in town. We both scrubbed up nice and at the start of the evening I could feel him looking over at me, but whenever I looked at him he looked away. Then at the end of the evening he seemed to want to avoid talking and looking at me all together. Very weird seeing as we had become real chummy over the past week.

That night we were up late again and I was happy just being next to him on the old stinky lounge watching ‘Austin Powers’, when he grabbed my hand. He managed to give me a massive fright and made me one confused lady. Either way I went with it – I went to kiss him and it lasted a millisecond before he pulled away and said the words any girl would loathe to hear, “I have a girlfriend.” Instead of being a raging ball of sass and walking on out of there as I should have, I couldn’t be mad. I was way too into him. We spent the night cuddling and talking. DUMB, I KNOW. The next night things got more heated and we ended up having a few wild nights. One lovely outrageously drunk night after I had kissed him he told me he loved me. Now this is something that plays in my head over and over. A guy I’d only known for a week, and who was in a relationship and who (guiltily) I had already slept with and who I was obviously about to sleep with again – why would someone of this description say he loved me? Such a nong. (editor's note: nong is Australian slang for being a twit :)

Those next few days and nights were, I dare say it, some of the best of my life. To me everything about him was just the best thing ever (aside from the girlfriend factor). When he left the hostel to continue travelling, we exchanged numbers (at his request) and messaged for the next few months. He stopped replying so much after the first month and so I kind of followed suit even though I was dying a little on the inside. After not replying to him for a few days, he sent another message saying he was going home soon. I eventually worked up the courage to basically tell him that he shouldn’t feel like he had to keep in touch with me and that I understood things were tricky for him and that I wouldn’t message him when he returned home – only if he messaged me first. He seemed relieved and grateful but very awkward – which didn’t suit him, he was the least awkward person I knew. He told me he would still try to message me.

That was about the last thing we said to eachother 10 months ago. Since that time Facebook and Instagram have been my bitter sweet source of self torment. It’s like a knife in the guts that I can’t get enough of. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him or stalk his Facebook. So pathetic! I know what his girlfriend looks like and his friends. Annnnnnd I even know about his most recent trip to Hawaii. He has a girlfriend so he was toxic news from the beginning and I do feel bad for her – I wonder if he told her?  But I think I am more selfish than that, and I more so wonder if he ever thinks of me or subtly stalks my Facebook page? I guess I’ll never know and I’ll never meet him again. Serves me right for going there with another gal's man. Sometimes I wish I’d never taken the dangerous plunge of hand holding. Maybe now we’d still be friends. But then I remember that sweet little hostel with its stinky couch and his laugh. And I could never unwish it. I guess my only real hope here is that it actually takes 12 months to get over someone you knew for 10 days.

1 comment:

  1. OMG I loved this. I'm so sorry to hear that it turned out horrible. This could had been a dream...

    ReplyDelete