THAT'S RIGHT. I'M SINGLE AND AVAILABLE AGAIN. I'm now a solo pimp, back on the block, back on the blog, rollin' wit me homeboys and drive-buying from car-wheeling merchants on THE WIKKITY-WEST TOWN BROKEN-DREAMS BOULEVARD GHETTO HOMIE-BLUD. But seriously, take a ticket and form an orderly line, ladies, there's probably enough of me to go around. Actually, who am I kidding? There are only a few tickets left to Thomasville, population Me, principal industry: being really fit and amazing at everything. Walk, don't run, and SNAP ME UP before some passing Hollywood Starlet does.
"But Thomas, how did it happen?" I hear you cry. "Was there drama? Was there illicitness? Was there a love rat? Did you fall to your knees in the rain, crying out your heart, screaming your grief and loneliness at the sky? Did you ever give her the ring? What were her reasons? What are the details?"
Well, there are many answers to these questions. Many of these answers contain the word 'no'. The drama mostly consisted of two MSN conversations. No illicitness. Only one love rat, and that was an actual rat who was in love with another rat, and has no role in our breakup. No falling to my knees in the rain, crying out my heart, screaming my grief and loneliness at the sky. WHAT RING? Was it made of chocolate?
And now onto the reasons and details. Well, actually, if you're expecting reasons, I'd probably stop reading now, seeing as the female mind works kind of like a clock filled with custard and frogs (ie: oddly and non-sensically).
Well, my friends, firstly, the big dumping speech was over MSN. MSN. (I actually typed that MSN in capitals, as if SHOUTING IT, but you can't tell because MSN is already capitalised, so it doesn't really work. Perhaps I could incorporate some html or something? Maybe an exclamation mark or two? Hmm.) MSN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. MSN is such a coward's choice. Like, in ancient Japan, when you lost a battle you were supposed to stab yourself with your own sword in order to avoid the embarassment of losing a battle against the Godzilla ninjas. The same basic priniciple applies here, except stabbing yourself with your sword to avoid embarassment is kind of cool, whereas using an internet chat program is just wussy.
And anyway, you're only supposed to use MSN for asking out, not dumping (Unless you're me, in which any way of dumping is fine. Hey, the girl was lucky to get a chance in the first case, not my fault if she blew it, and I don't want get cried on). So that was Failure No.1 on girlfriend's part. She wanted a quick and easy breakup (Like a prostitute with running shoes), now she has long and drawn out (Like my penis being captured in pictoral form using a pencil).
Failure No.2: Giving me literally no decent reasons. Now, I know it's a female's perogative to instantaneously change her mind/change her mind again/have wild mood swings/have mild mood swings/change her mind AGAIN/go feral and eat her own babies/randomly start crying for no reason, but COME ON. I wouldn't have thought it was possible to go from happy as larry one day, to full nuclear relationship meltdown the next for no reason, but hey, thats why I'm not a girl, and that's what happened.
I mean, if she'd found me having sex with a swahlilian horse, or she wanted to run away with an emotionally-diorheatic midget dwarf with mother issues, or she'd suddenly been offered ONE MILLION DOLLARS to spend the night with an ugly billionaire played by Robert Redman, or she'd found me listening to Coldplay and enjoying it, well, then, I'd understand. But I'm a MALE, and I need CONCRETE REASONS. Possibly with a nice table of figures and numbers to back up the point. To be honest, for me, the optimum break-up would be in graphical form, including at least one multicoloured pie-chart. But I didn't even get a SCATTER GRAPH.
Instead, she chose to explain herself using a seemingly endless list of random female feelingful reasons that mean nothing to the more intelligent (read: male) members of society. Despite their total weakness and lack of reasoning, they still won the day. To explain this concept to the average male, I will use the famous Terminator 2: Judgement Day analogy.
The problem with fucked up female touchy-feely reasons is that they're the T-1000. No matter how many times I detonate them with your powerful explosive shrapnel shells of compressed logic and reasoning (as the Arnie terminator), they always seem to subltly shift to something different and equally non-sensiscal. This continues until I have no more shells left, or I lose interest. Therefore, "I feel we work better as friends due to some core differences in fundamental beliefs" shifts to "Well I'm actually a lot more female than you thought I was" shifts to "Well now I can't possibly go on because I KNOW we're going to break up sooner or later" shifts to "Well it's like a balloon, see, and when it pops IT'S GONE," shifts to "I don't want to break up with you, really, but now its just IMPOSSIBLE to go on because of my feelings". Its impossible to win this battle. Even liquid nitrogen/a really hot pit of molten metally stuff/the might of common sense can't defeat this T-1000 - the T-1000 of female emotions. This proves an important scientific point: Logic does not work on females. Write that point down in your copy-books. However, being a boatie, I've not won things for the past three years, and it hasn't really put me off. I'm used to it. To be honest, losing feels like the natural progression to me. Therefore, I kept pegging away at destroying her reasons, thus combatting the T-1000, thus fighting an unwinnable fight, for far too long. Reason for Failure No.2.
Failure No.3: Her third failure was in that she weakend - my endless attacks overwhelmed her enough for her to 'agree' to us 'going on a break'. Usually, when couples "go on a break" it means that they'll spend half a week apart feeling sad, before probably gett back together and having lots of fun make-up sex (By the way, make-up sex is NOT sex involving lipstick and rouge being thrown about willy-nilly. It's actually sex in which you make-UP your differences in opinion and vow to become better people). In this case "going on a break" does not mean that. We both knew that 'going on a break' meant 'stopping this awkard MSN conversation by throwing Thomas a possible bone of reconciliation, but then dumping him in two weeks time'. That bone was a bad idea. It was not a good idea to throw me that bone. That bone will bring you down, dear, no matter how much it makes you look less harsh for dumping your boyfriend of four months for no reason OVER MSN. I knew that the bone was just a bone. I knew that was literally no point. But then I thought to myself "I'll make a romantic gesture and VISIT HER AT HER HOUSE". So I did. Then I spent the day with her. In the process, I realised, 'What the fuck am I trying to get back with her for after all? She's very nice and all, but to be honest all the spark has gone and she spends all the time talking to her vacuous friends on the phone instead of building a totem pole to me, and then worshipping it."
So therefore, girlfriend, I have come to a decision. I don't think that it's a good idea that we go on a break. It is totally pointless. Nothing is going to happen. You obviously has no wish for us to be back together, and I've totally lost interest. Therefore, that's it. We've officially broken up. IT'S OVER. *Cries and screams at the sky* Actually, shit, shouldn't I tell you this in private first, instead of just randomnly coming up with it on my blog? Fuck, that would be really harsh, wouldn't it? Hey, at least it's not over MSN. Ha ha, I WIN.
So therefore, Lucia, overall I rate you 3/10 for your dumping technique. Must try harder (possibly, by PICKING UP THE PHONE AND CALLING, and by ACTUALLY HAVING SOME DECENT REASONS and GIVING ME EVEN A TINY BIT OF WARNING)
But anyway, I've gotten over the deep spiritual malaise that's plagued me for the past week. I feel fine again. Food tastes better, I'm full of blog ideas and best of all: IT'S NEARLY BOXING DAY! I am now a happy person. I am totally not twisted, deeply resentful, or suppressing feelings of violence or rage. In fact, as an example of my new zippedy-doo-da outlook on life, I offered to decorate our family Christmas cake:
I know what you're thinking. Shouldn't "SEASONS" have an apostrophe in it? After all, they are the greetings of the seasons - POSSESSIVE.
What? Bitter? Me? Nah.
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