The truth hurts. An expression I am not entirely convinced holds truth in itself. What if you found out something that had been hiding with it’s eyes closed, the whole time knowing that you saw it but choosing to pretend you couldn’t find it? Evidence may not be presented as well as a confession. That confession in my case was a secondary source. That source being my ex-boyfriends best friend. The confession from his fiancee actually before their wedding day to clear her conscience from the shit load of sex she was having with my ex while he was, yes, my boyfriend.
A year down the line is along time to wait for the truth to unfold, but all the same it was inevitable. I have to admit I 100% had an idea they liked each other, or that there was strong chemistry bubbling to boiling point. The crazy thing is, as I am sure ladies you will agree, had I have mentioned my doubts and concerns I would have been dubbed a ‘paranoid’ and ‘mis-trusting” girlfriend. Who wants that? Jeeze, coming anywhere near that dreaded “Bunny boiler” certification is a death sentence for the relationship. It goes without saying we’re all slightly crazy anyway so I went right ahead and asked the question. That was a fail in an epic proportion and I got the usual bullshit of ‘We’re just friends, can I not have female friends?’
Such a clever comeback isn’t it? One that is in fact so genius you have no ground to stand on or any battle to fight. In your face girlfriend. Now I know the truth through the grounds of confession, not a bit of me is surprised and I am not hurt. The fact he was sneaking around behind my back while I was fully loyal and committed doesn’t say anything about the person I am. This defines the type of boy he was (he doesn’t deserve ‘man’ status) and that little boy messed up above all a true friendship.
Having friends of the opposite sex doesn’t mean your automatically getting the time of your life on the kitchen worktop and dining room table, but on the grounds of relationships it seems many abuse the trust of their partners to have a cherry on top. The excitement of what lies around the corner, the rush of a change of lover, not knowing who or what they could possibly be about or the possibilities that lay ahead…
It boils down to making a choice. A choice that saves the respect you have built between each other, or a choice that rips it to pieces. For me when I found out and having slept with him on two occasions since our split, this was a shock to myself that I felt nothing. He was no longer relevant in my life or for that matter any of my emotions. Life presents itself in a weird yet wonderful way. Times change so much and you realise things that were once so important and meaningful soon evaporate until nothing worthwhile is left.
This is a piece I had written a good few months ago and after reading it back decided that I would share it with you. Among many friends and people I have met the same story pops up; the untold endings in the books. Looking back I have seen so many flaws; so many questions that had I have opened my eyes could have been answered.
This is what makes the next step so much clearer. You never make the same mistake twice…
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