The Club of the Unloved

The ex-girlfriend is a terrifying creature. Weapons include the ability to throw a convincing tantrum seemingly at the drop of a hat, and the ability to cry at will- an unfair tactical advantage in any argument. But to us commitment phobes, it’s always a bad sign when the person you’re most likely to describe as ‘someone I sort of sleep with sometimes’ knows more about you than you do yourself. By the time this rather charmless conversation occurred, I should have taken it as a sign to start running for the hills (and if my latest gym venture is anything to go by, a head start and pennies for a taxi would also be a good idea).
HER - Come round this evening?
ME - Uh, no. I can't, I've got my period.
HER - No you haven't, you had it two weeks ago.
ME - What? No. Did I?
At the same time thinking, Fuuuuck. But this time it wasn't a lie- it had been last time I used it though.

But there’s commitment phobic and there’s commitment phobic. There’s the kind where the merest suggestion of intimacy leads to an increased heart rate, a hand tightening round their heart, and a panicky self-extraction.
Or there are people like me, for who intimacy is desirable- as long as the pressure doesn’t get to the level where you’re getting yelled at for flunking an essay, for still being friends with various exes, or for going out without them.
I mean, how very dare I?

Such things don’t so much scare me, as send a shooting pain up my right arm, provoke a gagging reflex in my oesophagus and similar involuntary reactions, polluting the darkest canyons of my psyche. The seemingly unfathomable chasm that lies between me and H is highlighted rather than lessened by constant interaction- we had nothing in common beyond using the same brand of toothpaste- and I knew that almost from the beginning. I mean, how bad a sign is it when a one night stand, whose name you didn’t even stop to get, tracks you down? Bearing gifts?
And a week later celebrates your one week anniversary? And sulks, when she realises you didn’t even think about it?
But I didn’t. I stayed, and I waited, and eventually, we fell apart. But what can you expect when the relationship evolves around arguments and fundamental disagreements? Some things are just too complicated to be worth the effort. Eventually, things descended to the level where, whenever I went out without her, I’d check my phone the next day and find huge numbers of missed calls and voice messages alternating, like Jekyll and Hyde, between angry and upset. There’d also be text messages-
Just wot ru doin 2 feel u hav to turn ur phone of!? Fucking slag
Charmed, I’m sure.
And I resent that- while I have been known to cheat on people, it’s a rare occurrence. Plus I wouldn’t have dared to do it to her- I have seen Fatal Attraction, and I’m somewhat attached to my rabbit. Well, teddy bear.
And now, things are still complicated. I heard a rumour that a relationship continues to affect those involved for the same length of time the relationship thing actually lasted.

One month to go before she's theoretically out of my hair. Hopefully she’ll not try to have another bar brawl with me, as per last night, because I just can’t be doing with it- I grew up watching Eastenders *shudder* and I know exactly how very un-fabulous such things are; fights in pubs are up there with going to the chippie for a first date, and buying clothes from the market- after damaging them slightly so they’re reduced, of course. Because everyone in London is does such things.