So, hopefully you'll have read my (not so) brief introduction to my car crash of a love life. If you did, you'll have noticed that I affectionately refer to the ex as 'The Bitch'.
The awkward nature of the break up is that we were together for so long that a lot of my friends are hers too. One such friend, who despite being 5 foot nothing in height and whiter than Casper the ghost, believes he is a Rasta. Anyway, that's deviating a little. He's been caught in the middle, receiving nothing but lies about me from The Bitch, until he sees me for a drink and has the record set straight.
One such lie was that I had been non-stop texting her since we broke up. Admittedly, I made a drunken mistake whilst at a wedding. But that was the only time I had contacted her since the break up back in May.
So, to my surprise on Thursday, I received a text from The Bitch asking if I fancied joining her for a 'blow out' drinking session this coming Monday. Obviously, my natural response was to reply "You're fucking kidding me, right?".
A few minutes later, and The Bitch replied that she had sent the text to everyone in her contacts list. Hmmm. Funny that, because she also has my best mates number on her phone, and he didn't receive an invite...
As I was at work and not really in the mood for an argument with a woman I no longer give a damn about, I sent a short, succinct text back telling her to remove my number from her phone and we'd avoid this kind of 'mistake' in the future. I honestly didn't expect the venom I received as a response. But hey, I decided to seize this opportunity and wind her up.
People that know me well, know that I use sarcasm as a tool to belittle people. I must stress that I'm not the kind of guy that thinks he is better than anyone else, far from it. But when someone rubs me up the wrong way, I'll make them feel stupid. More often than not, they don't even realise what I'm doing - they're that thick.
So a couple of messages are exchanged, and I inform The Bitch that I'm bored of her trying to start an argument with me, and decide to sign of the message 'Goodbye'. Now, most sane people would take that as the end of the conversation. Not The Bitch, though. She took that as a reason to launch in to a tirade about how rubbish our relationship was. That didn't bother me, as again, my friends I know that's not true. What bothered me was that it was littered with spelling and grammatical mistakes.
Always one to dust off my Grammar Nazi uniform at every available opportunity, I corrected her each and every mistake. Yep, that didn't go down well with her either. Like I care.
Two messages in this hour-long exchange did get to me, however.
Firstly, she asked how I knew it was her in the first place if I had deleted her number (which I did, the day she ended the relationship). I deal with numbers at work. Lots of numbers, so I consider myself a bit of a Rain Man when it comes to them. So for starters, she's insulting my intelligence. But the reason this annoyed me was because we were together for (nearly) 8 years. 8 years for crying out loud. It's going to take me a little more than two months to actually forget the number - it's embedded in my brain.
Secondly, her last message during that exchange was signed off "I'd appreciate it if you stopped texting me". Pardon? You text me love. And continued to do so when I signalled I didn't want to continue the exchange (you know, when I said 'goodbye'!?).
And so, that was my Thursday afternoon. There was another exchange last night (Friday), but I'll save that for my next post, which involves my first rejection of my new singleton life.
Follow me on Twitter: @Elf_Olive #carcrashlovelife
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