An unexpected thank you


Im not sure I should be thanking you at all. After all, your decision to stop returning my messages without explanation hurt me out of all proportion to the length or intensity of our relationship. We chatted for a month and only went on one date so why would I even care if you just stopped. I suspect many of the tears are actually for other things in my life I was pretending to be fine with.
But I am still grateful. The time we spent chatting was a huge amount of fun at a time when I really needed to be reminded that I can have/be that much fun. Talking to you I discovered things about myself I genuinely hadn’t known, hopefully these things will be useful in future (longer!) relationships.
And finally you made my first ever date fun rather than properly scary. Knowing I was terrified you messaged me stream of consciousness nonsense right up to the moment we met, how could I have found the time to be nervous. We had lovely food, no awkward silences and even a kiss.
Im very sorry we wont make it to a second date. I wish I understood why, I guess I never will.
My friends assure me you are a tosser and not worth my time, I almost wish I could agree. But I am confident that in a week or two I will be fine again, happy to take forward the good bits without focusing on the abrupt and unexplained ending. But for the above reasons I hope I will be able to remember you fondly.
Thank you.




jenbug1001's Blog

In the last week I have mentally written a number of blogs (all wonderfully witty and interesting obviously) but managed to commit none of them to paper (or whatever the internet equivalent is). This, for once, was not pure laziness or even being too busy. I was suffering from a little known condition know as PMM.

What, I hear you cry, is PMM?
How have I never heard of so debilitating a condition?
Are you sure you haven’t made it up to excuse your own laziness?

PMM stands for Pre Menstrual Meh.
Unlike PMT I am not particularly tetchy, possibly a little grumpy if I’m tired, but none of the scary stabiness more commonly associated with PMT. I simply feel ‘meh’ about life, the universe and everything.

I have read deeply moving things and hysterically funny things and intended to comment on both, but PMM has prevented this actually happening.

View original post 163 more words

Perks of singledom


Today my new boots arrived.

They are not particularly expensive or fancy boots but to me they represented quite a lot.

Until January I was in a relationship, my first ever relationship and one I had been in for 10 years.  My ex wasn’t a bad guy but he definately had his faults, one of which was being atrocious with money.  We were perpetually skint for the whole 10 years.  He would spend all his wages then expect me to bail him out.  When he lost his job due to ill health he struggled to accept we couldn’t continue spending at random.  

My way of dealing with this, somewhat foolish in retrospect, was to take charge of all the finances to try and maintain some sort of control.  Unfortunately this was combined with an intense dislike of the arguements and sulking caused by having to tell him we couldn’t afford something.  The upshot of this was that the main area I could sensibly control was spending on me.  For most of the relationship I spent almost nothing on me.  My clothes were from charity shops and, as i generally wore clothes until they were falling apart, I pretty much bought whatever fitted at the time.  I got my hair cut about once a year.  I generally looked pretty crap.  In his defence he often suggested I go and buy stuff but he just wasn’t willing to give up having whatever he wanted at that particular moment in order for the money to be available so I chose the path of martyrdom in order to try and keep our heads above water (or at least near the surface).

But now I am single.  Now I can buy clothes.  They are often second hand or on sale but now its because I want to save for bigger and better things for me and my daughter.  I now have clothes I like, I have haircut I love and I get it cut whenever I need it, I have make-up, earrings and shoes.  I am starting to feel like me again.

So to others my boots may just be boots but to me they are more.  They are the boots I will wear when I am at university making life better for me and my daughter.  They are the boots that will work under smart trousers when I am on placement building a professional reputation in my new field.  They are also the boots that will look cute with leggings when I’m relaxing with new friends in the student union (possibly chatting to attractive young men!).

They are the boots that represent me moving in on with my life and learning to be happy, relaxed and free.