It’s Not You, It’s Me...

...As Well As A Vast Range Of Complicated And Confusing Circumstances Which, On Reflection, Are Inevitabilities Of Modern Life. And It Sucks.

Ahhhh, breakups – is there anything more thrilling? Anything more spine-chillingly interesting, tragic or time-consuming? Is there anything that comes with a greater level of emotional baggage or bad-eating habits?

I sincerely hope not.

Over the past few weeks, I have been through a breakup. Now, I understand this might be hard for you to comprehend; I’m sure you assume that I’m a man about town, constantly breaking hearts, coming and going as I please; a Casanova, a maverick, a bad ass player who doesn’t give a shit and who is only looking out for number one.

Well guess what, you assholes: I’m a goddamn person. With goddamn feelings. I have a soul and I feel and I bleed and I would thank you to remember that from time to time instead of just presuming that I’m some kind of cold-hearted, shag-o-matic demi-god.

It has been, as the vast majority of breakups seem to be, very difficult and awkward and sad. There have been tears and phone calls and drunken texts and long chats and dinners and emails and advice and extensive chocolate-eating sessions and, on the whole, I would rate the entire experience as unsatisfactory. It’s been shithouse.

But, in the immortal words of Destiny’s Child, I am a survivor.

Also I am very booty-licious.

This was the end of my first serious relationship. We had been together for 15 months, we had been in love and I had great difficulty with the depth of my First Cut. A major problem I encountered was my inability to fiercely hate my ex-partner’s entire gender. That’s a real downside to being gay. The whole “all men are pigs” line that Sex And The City enthusiasts aggressively herald just ends up kicking you – somewhat ironically – in the dick.

It also gets tricky when I try to make the hate more specific. Many friends very sweetly offered comfort and support by detailing the man’s flaws and explaining the exact nature of his douchebaggery, but all that doesn’t really help very much. I mean, it just sort of ends up with you realizing that not only are you now alone, but the person you used to go out with and spend a lot of time with is apparently a right old cumquat anyways and you might as well pack it all in and become a monk that lives in a big monastery where they don’t get Channel 10 and can’t see the smash-hit family comedy panel show Talkin’ ‘Bout Your Generation, which features 16-year-old girls giggling at and cheering for said cumquat.

I have been very sad. Not even this sexy Facebook message could cheer me up:

Sorry, Aoibh – some other time. I guess I’m just not in the mood.

Or into ladies, to be honest.

Breaking up with Josh has revolutionised my perspective and changed a lot of my preconceived notions about relationships. I always thought I was pretty relaxed and casual about the “rules” of relationships and thought I could easily respect people’s decisions and remain open-minded and all that stuff. I mean, come on, people, it’s 2010. If I’m being totally honest, in the back of my head I probably envisioned myself as something of a slightly less proactive Russell Brand, rooting anything that takes my fancy (theoretically) and not giving a toss about the consequences.

Things are different now. I was hurt and confused and angry and I carried on like an old pork chop, and that upset me, because I’m a vegetarian. I was irrational. This one time I threw a pillow against the wall. I don’t think I’d done that since I was eight years old and I wasn’t allowed to stay up to watch Sliders.

I’ve realized that when you’re dealing with other people you care about, it’s highly unlikely you’re always going to be able to apply Peter-Singer-logic to every situation. Sometimes you’re going to get really frustrated and crazy and out of your mind. Sometimes, for no reason at all, you’re going to bite into a lemon.

I did that.

It’s easy to get cynical at times like these, and when you’re cynical, you’re not exactly receptive to age-old philosophies surrounding matters of love and heartbreak. Yes, I’m well aware that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but what would be even better than that would be having some kind of love-based pill that we all take every day and that makes you feel totally loved and confident and boosts your self-esteem and gives you an orgasm and it never wears off or gets old and it’s always available and you don’t have to worry about making money to pay for the pill because the pill is free.

Ever considered THAT, Shakespeare, you Elizabethan wanker?!

Things are getting better. I’m not relating to as many shitty love songs and it’s getting easier to fight the urge to punch kissing couples in their stupid kissing faces that kiss. I love my ex-boyfriend, feel thankful for the time we had together, feel fortunate to have him as a friend and wish him nothing but good luck. Well…maybe a dip in the ratings or a marked loss of Twitter followers would be apt, but it’s not going to keep me up at night.

Anymore.

Beyonce would be proud. I have come away from all this stronger, wiser and a whole lot more sympathetic to people who go through tricky times in relationships (i.e. everyone). If you are a friend of mine and you’ve come to me in times of romantic need, I’m sorry I didn’t do a very good job of helping. I just didn’t get it. If you’ve ever been through or are currently going through a divorce, my heart goes out to you and I wish you good luck.

And if you are my mum or my dad, then you went through a year of separation, renewed your vows and you are both great and I now have a better understanding of how hard all that must have been for you guys.

Oh! And I think I left my shirt in my room, can you mail that to me ASAP? With money? Cheers.

Josh and I broke up for a range of complicated reasons, mainly due to the unavoidable realities of living in different cities and travelling and all that jazz. But I still miss him and I have regrets and it is all very messy and I have listened to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours on repeat.

If you are currently in a (happy) relationship, I’d highly recommend you take a quick moment to communicate to your partner that you really fancy them and you think they’re tops.

If you’re single like me, please feel free to get in touch so we can really get into the nitty gritty of developing that Love Pill. And so we can make out.

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