Not including a handful of boys I dated for a day or two in primary school. I can easily count the heartbreaks I have endured from the opposite sex on one hand. To be more precise - two. For two very different reasons caused by two very different idiots.
Before I go on, it is important for me to point out that this is not only about heartbreaks alone. It’s actually quite the opposite. It is about winning. Keep that thought. Ok, so now back to heartbreaks; a good friend told me once that during a bad breakup, there is always a winner. Generally this is the one who did the breaking up, the one who has a new lover first and the one who is not making psycho phone calls to their ex days later. Mind you I was told about this urban myth whilst bearing a fresh heart wound and in fact was far from being on the winning side. I had just broken up with my first long term boyfriend and may or may have not been committing all sorts of breakup no no’s.
The ones that include repeatedly calling him between 2 and 52 times per day and when that doesn’t work, putting your phone on private number and calling him again – just incase he doesn’t realise that it’s still you. How clever right? Then you become a mastermind and think – well if he doesn’t want to pick up my phone calls, he has no option but to read my text messages. Brilliant idea! So you experiment a forward, slightly begging but cool calm collected text message that you get your best friend to proof read and send it with such confidence. Then when you either A) don’t get a reply or B) get a response you didn’t like. You suddenly suffer from Tourette’s syndrome and change your tune with your next text message. And so forth, and so forth. Not until you find yourself driving past his house for no good reason than just to see if he/she is home, you hit a wall and ask yourself, ‘Wait – what the fuck am I doing?’ And it is then you realise I am most certainly not winning here.
First I must disclose about my relationship history. We have ex-boyfriend #1. 3-4 years together. At first, I thought he was shy and kind and he first found me fun and endearing. We spent our teenage days together, before life hit us and BAM! We started to evolve into two polar opposite beings that in the end couldn’t stand each other. I started to be repulsed by the lack of colour he was wearing and the piercings he wanted to get. He started to find me annoying and naïve. We went on to spend countless months causing all sorts of drama and one night like fireworks we exploded (not the good type). With fingers pointed left right and center, we were both aching to break free so much only to realise that the simple answer was that we were too young and we just didn’t know any better.
This brings us to ex-boyfriend #2. Roughly 8 months together. He chased, and eventually I was caught. At first I found him witty and intriguing and at first he said he thought I was pretty and that I dressed well. We spent a summer under the sun together laughing and playing around until the baggage and scars we both carried ultimately lead us to war with one another. In the end he said I was confusing and too social and I thought he was over-protective and drank too much. It brought around old feelings of how fast something good can turn into something poisonous for both parties. So many games are played that you can’t help but think, can there really be a winner here?
It isn’t until the storm is over and you are able to see the colour in the light of day again that it all becomes clear how to actually win this thing. That the person you were trying to compete with this whole time wasn’t your ex-partner after all, but rather yourself and that it doesn’t really matter who does what after a failed relationship. You win by focusing on being able to stand on your own two feet again, by being able to say you went to war and you survived gracefully.
It’s been a while. But even now I feel contemplative thinking about those battle wounds I bared. But without these faults I wouldn’t have the lessons learned that equip me to be a noble girlfriend to the perfect boy. A boy who’s hands I have held for almost 5 years now. I find him to be a handsome and intelligent gentleman and he says I am adorable and sweet (his words not mine). We act like children around one another and spend our days daydreaming about our bright future together. So much so that when I stop and look at him, I can’t help but think to myself that in the end...