Mug

There is a moment of clarity that, when you experience it, leaves you reeling. I had that moment this week.

On Sunday night, J (the ahem...model) took me for drinks and with his best sincere face on, told me he wanted to start seeing me properly. He told me that it wasn't all about sex, that he liked me for me, that I was special and that he even wanted to accompany me to my friends wedding in June. Finally, after weeks of ignoring his comments about the issue, I started to succumb. I actually started to wonder whether I could make it work. I talked to my friends about it, I asked opinions and relayed snippets of conversation and allt agreed he sounded sincere.

On Wednesday night, at his request, he came back. He was late. He didn't want to eat because he wasn't hungry so neither did I. He bought a DVD but fell asleep 10 minutes in. He fucked me but only he came. He told me all about this girl he could have shagged that day at the gym. The following morning, despite telling me on Sunday he'd see me this weekend, he relayed a catalogue of commitments all involving female models and booze. When I said 'But you told me you were free this weekend', he said 'Did I?' He left while I stood, dizzy from the realisation that I'd been utterly suckered. Comments on his myspace page and ones that he's left on others have confirmed my suspicions. Obviously I wasn't only sleeping with him but I didn't say one way or the other. He on the other hand, promised fidelity (even though I didn't ask for it) and yet deceived me at every stage.

I am trying not to be sad and feel foolish but I do, I really do. I have been a fool and now I have a bank holiday weekend stretching in front of me with my flatmate away and not a single plan to occupy me, bar getting my hair done. I know what will happen and I'm dreading it. I will wallow. I will cry. I will mourn the loss of yet another shred of dignity and I will lament my advancing years and the fact that I am still, despite all my efforts, single. Yes, it's melodramatic and I will probably read this back in a few days and laugh at my melancholy hyperbole but right now? Right now I can't decide whether to bawl my eyes out or find the nearest man and punch his face in.