The Break Up

Music:  Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

On Christmas Day morning, I crept into the spare room and into the spare bed next to Matt.

Despite everything I had built up the courage to say the previous night, Matt’s manipulations were still inside my head, and overnight I had convinced myself that maybe it would all be alright and maybe there was nothing really that wrong with us after all.

As we lay there and I looked at Matt so lost and upset, my heart went out to him and I felt so guilty for making him feel that way. I lay behind him and put my arms around his waist, and after almost an hour of stillness I was the one to break the silence.

“We can try again,” I said in a whisper. “Please don’t be upset. We can get it back to how it was before. Just say you want to try again and we can.”

For the first time, Matt had listened to the worries I had about our relationship, and even though deep in my gut I knew things could never be the same again I still offered him that chance.

“OK,” Matt replied as he fought against his tears. “OK, we will try again.”

Looking back now, I think I did this as self esteem was so low and I really didn’t want to hurt him. It was Christmas Day, and it’s too awful to break up with someone on Christmas Day isn’t it?

Even as he said yes, half of me was kicking myself for letting him back into my life after everything I had finally managed to say, whilst the other half was relieved that we might be able to salvage our relationship.

We talked for about an hour, and I said I would really try to get things back on track, all the time knowing that I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. But I wanted to save the remnants of Christmas. I never wanted to split up with him on Christmas Day but my feelings after finding the present at the start of December ate me up inside to a point where I couldn’t see any other way out.

We finally got up and went downstairs and sat on the sofa.

“Well, I might as well give you your presents as I’ve already paid for them,” Matt said in a detached voice, as he lifted a small pile of gifts onto the coffee table.

Who said romance was dead eh?

I didn’t expect to see the box that had been neatly wrapped by the jewellers as he would never propose to me after what had happened the night before, would he?

However, the box was there, on the top of the pile.

Matt passed me the presents one by one. A DVD. Some vouchers for a spa. A new purse. And then he handed me the neatly wrapped present. The one I had been dreading.

“I hope you like it," he said in a flat tone.

I carefully untied the bow and lifted the paper at one corner. Breathing in slowly, I opened the other corner. The paper came away in my hands and I held the box nervously in front of me. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was inside.

I lifted the lid and there it was.

It was a silver bangle. The one that I had circled in the jewellery catalogue. The knocking noise on the side of the box when I had shaken it was the bangle hitting the side, not a ring box. It was beautiful: silver, with a white and black mother of pearl inlay.

I felt so relieved, but also so stupid. It wasn’t a ring and I wasn’t engaged but Matt and I were still together despite everything I had built up the courage to say.

We had an OK Christmas together. I think we put a brave face on it for each other, especially when we went over to my parents on Boxing Day.

We eventually split up a few days later after a disastrous New Year’s Eve. Matt had finally realised that things were different and my feelings had changed but the truth was really hard for him to take.

I still feel bad for how it all happened but I don’t think it could have happened in any other way as my self esteem had been at an all time low. Maybe I was a bit depressed (something which Matt suggested as I was constantly tired and feeling low) but who knows.

As for Foxy Scott...

On our return to work after the Christmas break our email flirtation picked up where it had left off. We were arranging to meet up and go out for a drink, when at the end of the first week back, Scott and a few other salesmen were called in to see their manager and were made redundant.

It was a total shock, not just to Scott, his colleagues and me, but to the entire office. Quite understandably Scott’s priorities changed from organising to go out for a drink with me to looking for a new job, although he kept saying that we should definitely go out. He even suggested getting together on a night when he was supposed to be going to football training, cheekily saying that he could tell his footie mates that he was going for a massage.

We never did meet up.

I told him that I had split up with Matt but that he was not a factor in my decision (and honestly, he wasn’t), and whilst the emails continued for a while after he left the company they did start to fizzle out.

The final email that I received from him said that his fiancée - shit I thought she was his girlfriend - had read one of our messages on Facebook.  He had been forced to lie and say he had been organizing leaving drinks with everyone from work and not just trying to arrange a date for me and him to meet up.

Whether this is true or not I don’t know. Part of me thinks it might be, but a bigger part thinks that he enjoyed the flirtation but when it looked likely that we would take it to the next level his conscience got the better of him.

Either that, or he just wanted a bit of harmless fun and enjoyed the thrill of the chase but never actually wanted to cheat on his girlfriend.

Whichever way it was, I don’t mind. If anything more had happened between us then I would have been cast as the “other” woman which is horrible when I stop to think about it.

It’s weird, but in all the time that Scott and I were flirting with each other, I hardly stopped to think about his poor, unknowing girlfriend - I mean fiancée - even though I know I awful it would have been for her if she found out. I feel terrible about this now and can’t believe that I acted in such a way.

I think I’m going to stop calling my ex the Evil Cockbag now, as whilst I can’t forgive him for sleeping with someone else behind my back, I can understand how he felt and how easily it can happen.

I know all this might make you think I'm a total bitch but I promise you I'm not.  I've never cheated on anyone physically and I don't intend to start now.  Through this I learnt just how easy it is to cross that line and whilst I can never justify having an affair I can understand how they can start oh so easily.

So that's how I became single.  A bit of a mess eh?

Our Little Secret

Music: In the Middle - Sugababes

So Foxy Scott and I kissed at our office Christmas party and swapped phone numbers in the space of a minute.  My boyfriend Matt was just around the corner in the bar, but did I feel guilty?  Did I hell.  Matt was a manipulative arsehole who was going to propose to me on Christmas Day.

But what was I doing?

The fact that Foxy Scott had a girlfriend didn’t even enter my head.  I know, I'm a bitch right?

Well maybe.  I was drunk and caught up in the moment.  I felt attractive and desired again by someone who had been listening to what I had to say without rubbishing what I thought.  The fact that he was drop dead gorgeous and told me that he fancied me as well made me feel fantastic.

I also felt the thrill of the illicit:   No one else knew what had just happened. It was our little secret.

I left Foxy Scott and returned to the bar where everyone seemed to be getting ready to leave. Time had flown and it was about half one in the morning. Wow, I must have been a bit more drunk than I’d realised.

I stood chatting and saying goodbyes to my work mates as Foxy Scott walked past me. He didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t even look at me. Part of me wondered if it was because Matt was right there or if it was because he was embarrassed about what had just happened.

Before I could get too upset, I felt my mobile phone vibrate in my bag. Matt was busy arranging a night out with the team leader, so I unzipped my bag and saw that I’d received a new message:

From Foxy Scott:
I want you.

My heart started pounding again, and I clutched my phone to my chest in case anyone caught sight of the screen.

I glanced around but I couldn’t see him, but then out of the corner of my eye I spotted him waiting for a taxi outside.  I was standing slightly away from everyone else, so I immediately sent a reply:

To Foxy Scott:
Oh really? When?

Quite where I was getting this bravado from is beyond me. I can only think that after months of feeling like the inferior person in my relationship and due to a whole load of sexual frustration it bubbled up from under the surface. The sex life that Matt and I had was no more than a once a week going through the motions quick pump-pump squirt, and I hadn’t feel my whole body tingle like it was now in so long I couldn’t even remember.

My phone vibrated.

From Foxy Scott:
Come back to mine tonight x

No.

No that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t just going to run outside and jump into a taxi with him, leaving my boyfriend behind. Although it was so very tempting. I decided to play along thought as I was enjoying the buzz of adrenaline.

To Foxy Scott:
Sorry I can’t. I would have loved to though ;)

Buzz.

From Foxy Scott:
OK.  Speak to you tomorrow x

Ahh yes, the football game was tomorrow. We had made a drunken wager on the outcome of the game, and the winner would pocket the princely sum of £10.  Yes, we're talking big money here folks.

I put my phone back in my bag and smiled contentedly to myself. Knowing something that no-one else did even though they had only been metres away made me feel like I had electricity flowing through me.

Matt finally came over as he’d finished organizing his social calendar and we went outside and jumped in a taxi. Fortunately Foxy Scott had already left so there was no awkward goodbye between the three of us.

“Did you have a good night?"  Matt said whilst stifling a yawn.  "I thought it was alright. A bit shit though.".

“I thought it was really good actually," I replied.  "Much better than last year.”

And I really, really meant it.

But what the hell was I thinking?  Foxy Scott wasn't single and neither was I. 

That was the problem:  I wasn't thinking.  Well not about that anyway.

Crossing the Line

Music: She Wolf - Shakira

So there I was at my office Christmas party, flirting unashamedly with Foxy Scott, a man who wasn't my boyfriend.  The fact that Matt, my boyfriend, was only metres away didn't bother me at all.  I mean, he was a total wanker and was going to propose to me on Christmas Day...

But back to the party...

Despite all the flirting I knew that Foxy Scott had a girlfriend as she came to the work's do last year.  For some reason she wasn’t with him tonight.  Or had they split up?

“So how come you’ve come on your own tonight?  Did your girlfriend not fancy it?” I asked, glancing at Matt who seemed to have realised that Scott and I had been chatting for quite some time.

A large part of me hoped that Scott would say he was single.

“Oh, she’s off visiting her family this weekend and she left early,” he replied.

Oh.  Never mind.

I was glad that she hadn’t been able to make it though, as I was enjoying the attention and the flirty exchanges. I very much doubt we would have been having this conversation if his missus had been in tow.

Despite this, everything was all very innocent. True, there might have been some gentle flirting going on, but that’s what office Christmas parties are for, right?

Before tonight Scott and I had only exchanged about two words with each other, but now I was learning all about his favourite bands, the football team he plays for and what he wanted for Christmas.

I wasn’t the only one asking questions and he seemed really interested in me too. It’s almost like we were on a first date but without the expectation of a dodgy kiss at the end of the night. He was being really lovely.

And did I mention that he’s sexy?

Foxy Scott and I had been chatting for about forty five minutes when Matt stumbled over, having completed his monologue on effective management styles and patronising one of the team leaders. He pulled a chair over and sat next to me, and much to my annoyance I was obliged to introduce him to (Foxy) Scott.

“Matt, this is Scott. He’s one of the sale guys at my company. Scott, this is Matt. My boyfriend.” I sighed.

I knew full well that my lovely ego-boosting flirtatious conversation was now over.

After about ten minutes of sitting there watching Matt and Scott needling each other as they talked about football, I could tell that the atmosphere had changed so I excused myself and went to the loo. When I returned, Matt was sitting on his own.

“I don’t think Scott liked it when I came over,” Matt said, sounding quite pissed off.

“Oh why? How come?” I replied, knowing full well what he meant.

“He just seemed annoyed that I was interrupting your conversation. I’ve been watching you both and I think he was flirting with you,” he said.

Yeah. And?

Of course I denied it to keep to peace as I didn’t want to start having a row in the middle of my work’s Christmas party.  However I was secretly pleased that Matt was pissed off. My self-esteem had been given a massive boost too. I didn’t think Foxy Scott even knew I existed, and yet he had spent the best part of an hour flirting with me and talking with really good knowledge about the teams that I loved. I was having a really good night.

Desperate to avoid just sitting with Matt, I persuaded him that we should go and mingle as I didn’t want to appear anti-social.  We headed back to the bar where Round 15 of tequila slammers was in full flow.

I talked to some of my team for a while and Matt picked up his earlier conversation about how to be an effective manager. Yawn. By this point everyone was pretty drunk – it must have been about midnight but I’d totally lost track of time. I was lucky in a way as no one commented on how I’d been talking to Foxy Scott for so long as they’d all been distracted by the big reveal of new couple in the office.

We’d all known that Sean and Charlotte been seeing each other for ages, but it had never been confirmed until tonight when they were all over each other like a pair of frotting Bonobo monkeys. I was relieved in a way, as my colleagues teasing me would just have wound Matt up even more.

After a couple more drinks I needed the loo again, so I excused myself and started walking round the bar. The loos were hidden from the entire bar area at the other side of the room.

I checked my face in the mirror, and despite the several tequilas and all the wine I was still looking quite good. No smudged mascara, face not too shiny. A quick blot of powder and I was ready to go.

I was still putting my makeup back into my bag as I opened the door back to the bar so I wasn’t really concentrating.  As I walked out of the door I practically fell over Foxy Scott who was just leaving the gents.

“Oh sorry!” I said, all apologetically. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” he replied. “I was having much more fun earlier though,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh yeah? Is that right?” I laughed.

Usually I would feel so awkward in a situation like this, but for some reason I felt über-confident.

“You know,” said he said, suddenly sounding really nervous, “I’ve always really fancied you.”

WHAT!

Whoa! WOW! Wow. Wow. Wow. No way.

“Really?” I said, not even attempting to mask the surprise in my voice. “Well I think you’re really good looking too.”

The words had barely left my mouth and without thinking I pulled Scott towards me and passionately kissed him.

I still remember the look on his face as my lips withdrew from his. We only kissed for a few seconds, but his expression displayed his total disbelief. I mean, my boyfriend was just around the corner and anyone could have wandered over caught us in the act.

I just felt completely exhilarated. My heart was pounding and I could feel my cheeks flushing red. I hadn’t felt such a surge of adrenaline in years.

“Anyway,” I said, trying to regain a little composure, “You’ll have to give me your number so I can take mick when Arsenal get stuffed by Liverpool tomorrow and I win our bet!”

And do you know what? He did.

Football really did have a lot to answer for...

Foxy Scott

Music: Are 'Friends' Electric - Gary Numan

So there I was at my office Christmas party, when Foxy Scott, a gorgeous sales guy, caught my eye and started to walk over. The fact that Matt, my boyfriend, was only metres away didn't bother me at all. I mean, he was a total wanker and was going to propose to me on Christmas Day...

Only two people in the whole world call sexy sales man Scott from my office Foxy Scott.

They are me (obviously) and my team leader (who is gay).

We coined the name at a work’s conference earlier in the year as it was better than hobnobbing with the management with a fixed grin plastered across our faces. It’s not often that we all get together as a company and this was one of those corporate nipple-twisting days when all the offices from across the country meet up to be bored to tears listening to wanky management presentations.

The whole day had been pretty tedious so by the time we got to the evening and had sampled the delights of the free bar, my team leader and I were pretty tipsy and we decided to survey the company’s male population and gave them rankings. Scott came out at the top of both our lists, so the name stuck.

Scott (a.k.a. Foxy Scott) is twenty eight and has worked for the company in the sales team for just over a year. Looks wise, he is about 5ft 10” tall, medium build with light brown hair, a gorgeous smile and bright blue eyes. He plays football for a local amateur team so he is pretty athletic, he supports Arsenal and that is about all I knew about him.

He sounds really plain, but believe me he is undeniably handsome. Sometimes I’d hear him on the phone on my way to a meeting and swoon as he worked his sexy suave salesman voice. It wasn’t smarmy or the usual salesman slick, but deep and lilting. I wonder if he won a lot of business from women. Well he would if they arranged a meeting with him I’m sure...

Anyway back to the Christmas do...

I was sitting at a table near the bar after one too many tequila slammers when Foxy Scott came and sat next to me and started chatting. I could tell that he’d had quite a few beers himself as he was always relatively quiet at work (for a salesman anyway) but now he started to jabber away.

“Well hello,” he said as he pulled up a chair. “What are you doing all on your own?”

I have to admit I was surprised he knew who I was, never mind the fact that he was sitting down next to me for a chat.

“I’m just having a breather from all the tequila slammers,” I replied, laughing.

And a break from my overbearing boyfriend.

“Yeah I know what you mean,” Scott continued. “They’re absolutely killer. So are you having a good night then?”

“Yeah not bad,” I said as I took a sip of my vodka lime and soda. “It’s a pity we’re not in the centre of town. It would have been loads better to move on to some bars.”

“Definitely,” Scott replied as he eyed me with his twinkling blue eyes.

We started to talk about a lot of random stuff and we sparked up a brilliant conversation. I think Scott must sit at work and take everything in, as he knew which rugby and football teams I support and talked with great knowledge about them both. Purely by coincidence, my football team (Liverpool) was playing his (Arsenal) that weekend, so there was lots of friendly and flirty banter going back and forth.

“I bet you ten pounds that your team loses on Sunday,” I said confidently as Scott sipped his pint.

“Are you sure about that?” he said laughing. His face was animated and gorgeous, and he looked great in his casual black jumper and jeans.

Sexy great.

“Definitely,” I replied.

No, no, no! Never bet on anything when you’re drunk.

I couldn’t back down now though. This was fun.

“OK then, you’re on,” Scott said, offering me his hand so we could shake on the bet.

As he held out his hand, a tantalizing smile played on his lips.

I took his hand and he shook it firmly before he leant back in his chair and smiled at me.

The conversation. The bet. His twinkling eyes.

He was flirting with me. He was definitely flirting with me.

I think...

Honk if You're Horny

Music: Lovers in the Backseat - Scissor Sisters

After finding out that Matt was seemingly going to propose to me on Christmas day, I did what any messed up girl would have done in that situation:  I pretended like it had never happened and threw myself into the festive spirit.  Which in my case, was called vodka.

The following week after Presentgate it was my office Christmas party, and whilst everyone else was draping themselves in tinsel and positioning themselves under the mistletoe, I was quiet and withdrawn.  Despite my best efforts I just couldn’t stop thinking about the present and what it meant.

I couldn’t split up with Matt just before Christmas but I couldn’t bear the thought of opening our gifts together on Christmas Day morning and just how awful it was going to be. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him and I didn’t know what to do.

I decided the best course of action was to go to the office party and get leathered. Which is exactly what I did.

Work’s dos are usually naff where I work, although in previous years there’s been the saving grace that the venue has been in the centre of town. This means that after you’ve eaten the rock hard Brussels sprouts and slab of Christmas pudding you can F-off somewhere else before the embarrassing dancing starts.

Not this year.

Due to the “late booking” (read cost savings), the Christmas party was at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. It was miles away from anything and there was absolutely nothing to do nearby.  Well, unless you class dogging as a great way to spend a few hours.  The park just up the road was apparently a bit of a hotspot for sexual deviants, and with a quick flash of your headlights you would be up to your eyes in spunk filled tissues faster than you could say "honk if you're horny". 
(In case you’re wondering, I have a friend who is a policeman and he told me about it. I've never been there myself - honest).

As getting jiggy with it in my car with sleazy old men peering through the sunroof and wanking themselves off really wasn’t my thing it looked like I was stuck in the hotel.

It was OK though as we could bring our partners, so hurrah, Matt was with me. Pass the wine please...

The meal passed without event and I was actually having quite a good time, although I admit that the free-flowing alcohol did help.

After the meal we all migrated to the bar area, where there was an open fire and plenty of tables. One of the team leaders and his girlfriend were pretty big drinkers, so tequila slammers were soon being ordered for everyone and lined up on the bar. I didn’t complain as he was he probably earned way too much, and no-one stopped him as he bought round after round and refused to let anyone else pay. Fair enough.

One.


Two.


Three.

Lick.

Gulp.

Slam.

Suck.

Ugggh.

I’d lost sight of Matt by this point as I think he was talking to/at someone about different styles of management.  I figured that he was probably in his element as he was giving his opinion to others, so I sat down at one of the tables round the corner from the bar.

The office where I work is mostly filled with my direct colleagues but there are a few sales men that sit at the far end. The sales guys are all a really good laugh and I always chat to them on my way to the kitchen. 

Well, I chat to all but one of them, who from now on I shall refer to as Foxy Scott.

As I sat down and massaged feet which ached from standing in my heels, I glanced across the room and saw Foxy Scott leaning against the bar, looking at me. 

I smiled at him. 

He smiled back. 

Then he started to walk over...

Things were about to get very interesting...

The Ex-Files

Music: Heartbreak - Magistrates

I know I've started dating now but I think it's time for me to get something off my chest. 

Before I split up with my now ex-boyfriend I was a bit naughty.

I guess you could say I had a bit of a rebound before I actually split up with him.

Well kind of... It’s halfway between that and the push I needed to realise that the relationship was over.

Yeah I know, I'm a terrible person, but as with most things in life - it was complicated.

I’m not proud about it but the feelings I had were something that I hadn’t felt in a long time, and they jolted me to do something I’d been putting off for months: end it with my boyfriend and leave me where you found me in my first post: Tragically fantasising about rugby players.

Matt is my latest ex and we were together for two and a half years before we finally split up. I don’t want to go into too much detail about the ins and outs of our relationship as unlike the random dates I did care for him. 

However the big problem we had was that he was a complete and utter arsehole.

Well, maybe that’s a bit harsh...

As our relationship progressed it turned out that his opinion was the only one that mattered.  Great eh?  The foundations of a happy and healthy relationship, right there...  I tried to talk to him on several occasions about how I felt and how things weren’t right, but it started to emerge that if he thought there wasn’t a problem then there wasn’t a problem. I would be patted on the head and brushed off to go quietly mad, wondering how he managed to manipulate me so easily.

Of course, that was after I’d stood behind his back, furiously flicking him with the V's.

Quite often if we were out with other people and I made a statement, Matt would step in with the line:

“No dear, that’s not right.”

It was a proverbial patronising pat on the head. There, there, run along and stop being such a silly girl.

Cock.

I kept hoping that my feelings for him would just click back into place and I would feel like I did for the first year of our relationship, but it just didn’t happen and the months passed by.

I know what you're thinking, why did I put up with it?  Well the answer is, I let the relationship continue because Matt was an expert at manipulation.  By the end I felt like I was losing my identity and I didn't know what I thought about things anymore.  But he did it in a very subtle way, which made me question if he was messing with my head or not.

As I said, it was complicated.

If I hadn’t found the Christmas present that he’d bought for me then I don’t know if I’d have got the wakeup call which pushed me to call it a day...

I knew that Matt had bought my Christmas present as he smugly announced it one day in early December while we were having lunch. Now I’m not the best at surprises, and if someone tells me that there’s a present for me hidden somewhere in the house then it's guaranteed I’ll turn the place upside down until I find it.

So I waited for him to go out and then I accidentally ransacked his room.

I was hoping that he’d paid attention to the jewellery catalogue I’d left open on the coffee table and he’d take the hint and have a look. I’d circled some bracelets and necklaces and written “I really love this one” in a subtle effort to guide his purchase.
 
After about half an hour of rummaging around in his bedroom (and carefully placing everything back exactly as I found it) I stumbled across the beautifully gift wrapped present stuffed at the back of his sock drawer.

He had definitely bought me some jewellery as I recognised the wrapping paper they use in the shop.  The present was wrapped in a small box about 10cm x 10cm and about 4cm deep. I studied it for a few seconds to try and work out what he could have bought me based on what I’d hinted at, and then I gave the box a shake.

Something inside knocked against the wall of the box. Odd.

I shook it again. Same thing.

I couldn’t think what it could be.

Was it a box within a box?

Oh f*ck. It sounded like a smaller box within this box.

Shit.

The only box smaller than this is a ring box.

Oh my God.

Had he bought me a ring?

Shit.

Please God don’t let it be an engagement ring.

Oh shit shit shit.

At that moment my heart sunk to the floor. 

Matt proposing to me on Christmas Day was the worst thing that I could possibly imagine happening to me.

I sat on the bed holding the perfectly wrapped Christmas present in my hands. I looked at the dainty snowflakes on the wrapping paper and its pretty gold ribbon with a massive lump in my throat.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What was I going to do?

I didn’t want to marry Matt. I didn’t want to pledge my heart and soul to such a pompous wanker.

It had been going on for months. Matt wanted us to buy a house together, but because of the way I felt I didn’t want to go down that route at all. I owned my home so I would have to sell, whilst Matt was renting so it was easy for him. I would have all the risk and I just couldn’t see the reward. I had been putting off house hunting for months but now with the prospect of him getting down on bended knee I knew I couldn’t take it anymore.

I put the present back in the gift bag, covered it with socks and closed the drawer.

Then I drank a whole bottle of wine and cried.

(To be continued)