The day that I realised.

So, I let him fuck me over one last time. My heart was in it from beginning to end, from the message first thing on valentines day asking if I’d be his, to the silence on the weekend when I was meant to be in his arms.
It’s half term now and the time away from uni has been a breath of fresh air, if I’m honest. It’s hard to motivate myself to tell myself that I really have got to get on with my work, but I’m managing quite well. I’ve had a bit extra work to take my mind off things but not loads, but I’ve managed well nonetheless. It’s back to the daily grind tomorrow - work until late afternoon. And then a bit of a change… wine tasting afternoon at le pub!! Woo! My boss has arranged it so that the kid waitresses have more of an idea of what we’re selling and what they’re recommending - and I think she’s realised that we (the oldies) need a bit of a piss up together. Call it staff bonding! I just call it a lot of fine wine…
So, back to him. I’m changing pretty much all of my contact details so that he can’t get in contact and fuck me up again. This last time was the kick up the arse I needed. So, this time, there was no alcohol or drug binge, no comfort food day, no shopping with the money I don’t have or crying into my pint at 3 in the afternoon. Just a good dose of change and a lot of self realisation, that I don’t need him, that I don’t deserve to be putting up with that shit any longer. And so I’m not. I’m surprisingly happy - I think I’d come to expect him to hurt me so it wasn’t as much of a shock when there was total silence.
And so, what have I done? I’m in the process of moving on. Perhaps not the most fun thing to be doing in this cold week in February but it’s good all the same. Lots of friends and lots of time spent with people I haven’t seen in a long time.