I read something on Twitter the other day that made me re-evaluate my whole dating history. Granted, a lot of my dating history… okay ALL of my dating history has been a complete comedy show and shambles, but for once I realised that I was probably making making more of a meal of things than completely necessary. Now I consider myself to be a pretty together kind of person, albeit kind of an emotional mess for the past six months (crying at the six o'clock news and such like). But this statement genuinely shocked me – “It takes half the amount of time you dated someone to get over them”.
If this statement is indeed true, it just makes me wonder what the hell I have been playing around at for the past two years. My longest relationship for the most part is two months. That only gave me a month at the most to cry into my ice cream and watch “He’s Just Not That Into You” over and over and over again. Not that I’ve ever done that. Ever.
I must admit that I find the whole concept of 'getting over someone' slightly strange anyway. The whole term ‘getting over’ is slightly misleading. I mean you ‘get over’ a fence. You don’t need to climb over your ex-boyfriend. Or maybe you do, if they are refusing to let you leave because “WE CAN WORK THIS OUT!”. No. No we can’t Actor Boy. You cheated on me twice and your need to constantly take your shirt off in public is slightly weird.
Boys and girls react very differently to break-ups. In my experience it’s the girls that become the messes to begin with. We cry, lash out and tend to eat our feelings at the start, but then we generally tend to see sense a few weeks later when we realise how much money we will be saving to spend on ourselves. That’s not to say we don’t drink to much and end up accidentally spilling our feelings out and regretting it the next day or thinking it’s a brilliant idea to text them at 3am with something that can’t even be understood. But, Girls we do it well. We have our friends around us to remind us just how ugly he was, shopping trips to make us feel better and ice cream to numb the pain. A few months down the line it’s “Australia Boy who?”.
Whereas boys, they are complicated creatures. They tend to go all out and enjoy the newfound ‘freedom’ and display how much of a good time they are having without you being there to reassure them that “You know, your nose isn’t that weird. It probably won't stop you getting a job in advertising”. However, it seems to hit them a lot later than it does us girls. Six months down the line they seem to think it is okay to ring you on a withheld number to tell you that they miss you whilst crying down the phone, when all you want to do is finish watching TOWIE.
A year on they think its okay to drag you away from your friends to tell you that all they want is to be back with you and that girl they got with two days after you broke up was just because they were angry because it couldn’t work out between you two because he was moving to Australia. It has nothing to do with the fact she is a glamour model and absolutely stunning does it? Alright mate, pull the other one.
Girls, we accept that it is a lengthy process of belting out Adele songs, breaking down in inappropriate places and re-tweeting meaningful quotes. Guys: they just don’t know how to deal with it until they see you with someone fitter, nicer and funnier and realise we are so much happier without them. So, who cares if it takes you three months to get over a two month relationship? It’s just proof of what is the main difference between boys and girls and that is that we finish a job properly.
So, today I sat here and worked out, by looking through old diary’s, all the dates that I should have been over past exes. Then I got to the most recent ex, and I realised that it was today. Today is the day where I should have deleted the messages, put away all the things that remind me of him, deleted all the photos, given back his things, accepted the memories for what they are – and most of all – realised he is not worthy of my time, effort or tears.
Today’s the day Twitter says that I am over him. And for once I couldn’t agree more.
Live. Laugh. Love.
Live. Laugh. Love.