No blog is a proper entertaining blog without talk of romance… or lack thereof. My little, tiny, tale begins with me being drunk at my bowling birthday party back in January. I didn’t even notice the tall drink of water that attended really… and that drink of water soon turned lukewarm.
Let’s call him… Canadian Ryan. Now Canadian Ryan was a nice guy, no doubt about it. He got along with everyone, was always calm and kinda mysterious (you never knew what he was thinking- which was also annoying), loved basketball and was tall! Winning… Anyway, we entered into the ‘we are just casual, nothing more’ stage quickly and I was totally fine with that. He seemed to think I wasn’t, even with multiple assurances that sounded along the lines of ‘IT’S OK, I’M NOT A NORMAL GIRL. I CAN SLEEP WITH YOU WITHOUT FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH YOU’. However, I did lay down (no pun intended) the unwritten but spoken rule that we are friends with added benefits, and we agreed not to hook up with anyone else while sleeping with each other (that’s one step too far in my book). As a sign of considering him an honorary Aussie, I even gave him an AFL jersey and some Australian stuff for a laugh too.
So over the course of the next few months, we had some really good fun times out with friends and the house parties were eventful to say the least. However, one night consisted of me being a total drunk wanker. And by drunk, I mean obliterated, slurring speech, crying… total mess. So attractive to a guy who barely has any feelings (or none that he chose to show me anyway). I apologised, but I think it was the night to end all nights. It was definitely an out for him. After a number of weeks of not speaking (I was travelling and went on school camp), it was his birthday. Everything seemed back to normal, we were good. Then…drum roll please… he hooked up with someone else in front of me. Now, while seeing him with purple lipstick all over his lips (totally not his shade either) and with him saying ‘it’s not personal, we were just casual’, I thought it was best to leave. I was shocked. Ryan had always been a nice dude! Where’s the R-E-S-P-E-C-T?
I quickly packed my bags (so quickly I left without half my stuff) and went home with my girls, singing my anthem ‘Hair’ by Little Mix, crying in the back seat because I was so hurt. Now, it comes to the point now that I could take two roads; be extremely bitchy and say what a douche move that is, or be totally positive and say he didn’t mean to hurt me, he was just thinking with his second head. I’m gonna take the road less travelled- straight down the middle.
I wasn’t upset that he was hooking up with someone else. He could hook up with a Kardashian for all I care. It was the fact that, after months of hanging out, he didn’t have the respect to be like ‘Kid, I’m hooking up with this other Australian chick now, just thought I would tell ya’. I would have had no problems, been all cool about it. It was because he didn’t feel bad about it at all. To me, a friend is a friend, regardless of how long you’ve known them (cue the montage of slow motion me taking back the AFL jersey and Australian crap to him with Adele’s ‘Send My Love To Your New Lover’ playing in the background…) and a heads up would’ve been good. Ryan was never meant to be a permanent fixture in my life, we both knew that. I was in it to enjoy his company and make a friend out of it.
Admittedly, I’ve never been hurt by a guy before, so this kinda hit me hard. It made me question what kind of person I am that he could move on from so easily. Was it the fact that I effed up by getting drunk? Perhaps. Was it because I was uncomfortable with him touching me sometimes because of my own confidence issues? Perhaps. Funnily enough, I’ll probably never know. So Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye, Sayonara, Adios Canadian Ryan. May the doors at Heathrow hit you on the way out.