21st Century Break Ups

So, obviously, I removed the Ex as a friend from Facebook as soon as I asked him to leave, and also removed all of our mutual friends that were definitely his friends and not mine. Well, I say as soon as, it took a couple of days' worth of seeing him becoming friends with girls I didn't know to make me feel sick enough to remove him.

I didn't realise until today, however, that I could still see his wall. The new girl has posted something about 'teaching him how to poke'. Stupid cow.

Although, obviously, I am the stupid one for looking at his Facebook page. If this was 15 or even 10 years ago, I wouldn't be party to any of his day to day conversations and flirting with other girls. I would be able to more effectively remove myself from his life. I find myself impulsively needing to check his Facebook (and Twitter...don't get me started) profile, and I can't really work out why. It really hurts to see any update of any kind, because honestly no update is going to make me feel good, even 'what have I done, I regret it all' because I genuinely don't want him back. Yet, I torture myself checking out the new girl, and her friends, and any photos I can find...

My best friend told me that I need to stop, for my own sanity. And I agree with him. But I'm not sure how. Are break ups more difficult now, because there is so much more publicly available information about all of us? Or has it not made a difference, because our relationships are shaped and influenced by the context they develop within; i.e. if in 1898 you break up with your boyfriend because he's been cheating on you, you've got other shit to contend with, like being labelled a whore/unreasonable woman and seeing your ex everywhere because you are unlikely to have the means to move away?

Anyway, one more check before bed...

Denial?

It has occurred to me that I am rather more upbeat than I would expect someone in my predicament to be. I've realised that friends are looking at me with not only sympathy but also surprise when they ask how I am, and I witter on about finding a new place to live, and how it's so close to the main A road for work etc etc. I think I am probably supposed to be a bit more upset about things than I am.

Am I in denial?

I wonder whether the loss of a relationship is like a bereavement. I guess it would make sense, and in my case, where the end was sudden and shocking, perhaps this amplifies the 'grief reaction' as would happen after a sudden bereavement. The most trendy model of grief, the 'stage' model, is currently being de-bunked in favour of the 'dual process' model, where you are allowed to vacillate between helpful and not so helpful coping strategies. I think I prefer this model, and I wonder whether my absolute focus on the practicalities after our Break Up (i.e. where the hell am I going to live?) has meant that my emotional reaction and raw 'hurt' has been, however temporarily, pushed to one side. I also wonder whether it will come back.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not exactly having a blast at the moment. I feel pretty lonely and am trying my hardest not to think about the Ex, as thinking about him makes me upset. I'm quite good at distracting myself away from the hurt though. Maybe I should be more 'in the moment' and 'sit with the feeling'. Maybe I'm doing exactly what I need to do to survive right now, and once I'm settled in my new abode, bloody Christmas is over and done with, and I no longer am tied to the Ex regarding our tenancy, maybe then I'll feel 'it'. When I felt 'it' for the first few hours and days after I found out he'd been cheating on me, however, it felt a bit like I couldn't go on. I don't want to feel like that again.

I wonder how he feels.

Hangover

I survived my first drunken night of singledom. And not only survived; I had a really good night. It felt a bit like the pressure was off, and I could genuinely enjoy being with my friends, and not have to worry about how He was feeling.

As most of the mates I was out with were male, this negated any male attention received, which was a very good thing. I felt safe and protected, which is what I need right now. Perhaps a few weeks/months down the line, I'll choose to go on more girls' nights out, where blokes won't be put off talking to us. But for now, I am happy to venture out with my mostly male friendship group and get wasted. And dance on tables (haven't done that for a looong time). Rediscovering vodka was a good choice.

I ended up dressing far more casually than perhaps I would have done otherwise, but spent a lot of time on my make up (smoky eye with my Naked palette, love it). Chose flat gold ballerina pumps over my heels, as the other girls I was out with were not too dressy, and it meant I could dance the night away without feet agony. I hate heels; I love heels. They look awesome; they hurt me.

First single night out

I'm writing this on a Friday evening, having agreed to venture out into town tonight with a couple of friends. This will be the first foray into a bar or club since being single.

Now, I am in no way looking for any man action, or any male attention at all in fact, but for some reason I am stressing out about what to wear. Maybe when I was a 'taken' woman, it didn't matter as much what I wore? Maybe I want to prove to my friends that I am doing OK and can still get myself dressed and look presentable, and am not wallowing in baggy tshirts and pyjama bottoms 24/7 (I am sitting here writing this in such an outfit...)? But it's definitely not because I want to catch people's attention. And if I get any attention tonight, to be honest I'm not sure how I'll handle it. Previously, if a guy started to talk to me/try it on I would be able to retreat to the Ex or at least make it clear that I was with him. Or, if I was out without him, my friends and I would generally take the piss/imitate/have a laugh with any men that took any interest. Does being single mean that I should start taking attention from men seriously, and not run away/dismiss them, in case I am missing 'opportunities'? I really hope not. I'm not sure a bar or club is going to be a good place to find the New Man anyway. Most men I come across in bars & clubs are drunken wankers who are trying to pull anything that moves.

I shall report back what I learn from the experience. Fingers crossed.

A step backwards or an adventure?

Being nearly 28, having left my student days behind a long time ago, it feels nothing short of weird having just signed up to live with four strangers in a shared house.

But what choice do I have?

Since the Ex has decided that he would rather chance it with a girl who lives across the atlantic than risk a future with me, it has meant that we have had to give up our Lovely Flat. I have looked to see whether I could afford said Flat on my own, and would barely be able to eat let alone dare to have a night out once in a while (which I have a feeling I am going to need a LOT of) and so I am moving. I have six weeks left in the Flat and have decided to treat it like staying in a luxury hotel, and no longer like my home. We were only renting it anyway, and would have had to move in a year's time, so it's just happening a year early. Except that we're not reminiscing over the good times and packing up our collective possessions with smiles and memories; I am left in a half-empty home with all of the end of tenancy crap to sort out alone. At least his dirty socks aren't all over the floor, and at least I can take up as much space as I like with my numerous toiletries.

After spending two frantic weeks convincing myself that I would never find anywhere to live in six weeks, seeing as Christmas is coming and all the good rooms would be taken already, I have managed to find a nice couple who own this five-bedroomed house, with a big double room for a monthly rental that will enable me to have lots of nights out without too much guilt. The other four rooms are currently inhabited by boys. And the prospect of living with four boys is a much more attractive one than living with girls. I do like some girls, and know some wonderful ones, however living with girls in my experience has been the stuff of nightmares. 'Who used my shampoo;' 'Who drank my grape juice;' etc and all of the 'talking' about nonsense that needs to happen or inevitably, you become the object of not-so-secret bitching. I am no good at dealing with girls, but I am good at dealing with boys. If a boy pisses you off, you tell him he's been a dickhead, then one of you engages in toilet humour and you move on.

So I have six weeks of lonely luxury, before nine months of sociable squalor. Feels...odd.

The Break Up.

So, he left me. He didn't even do it in a dramatic or exciting way. He said that things 'weren't working out', that we were 'heading in different directions' and that he didn't want to 'hold me back'.

Then, of course, I found out that he'd been cheating on me. For four months.

Not that he had the balls to tell me - I read his emails after several post-Break Up days of obvious secrecy and shutting down web pages when I entered the room (oh yes, we were still co-habiting after the Break Up. We were tied into our tenancy on our lovely flat). I asked him to leave, and that was just about that.

So, what would any self-respecting 27-and-three-quarters year old girl do to cope, faced with singledom after a career of serial monogamy (three LONG term relationships since the age of 14)?

She would start a blog.