Ahhh. New Year’s Eve. The night when disappointments are crystallised. Hopes are crushed. Dreams shattered, and livers scarred. Or is that just me? And yet it all started out so well…….
Me and a small group of good friends, went to a local drinking establishment stuffed to the rafters with merrymakers. I had initiated damage control early. My mobile phone had been given to a sensible friend, so that I could not “accidentally” drink dial or text the Ex. A Christmas jumper was donned to keep me cheerful. And I kept off the wine, sensibly sticking to copious amounts of gin.
Then, just to make things unreasonably exciting, I spotted my Ex, Richard, on the other side of the room! Heart rate accelerated. Eyes shone. (Mine not his. But hey, it’s a start.) I was determined to sparkle my way through the evening, convinced that if he should look my way, on such a fateful night, he would realise we had to be back together.
Yep. Ok. I know better than this. I mean as soon as my brain goes into fairytale territory I should know to dive into the bunkers and take cover. Because romance like this only exists outside of my relationships. And normally only in rom-coms starring Drew Barrymore. He left me, I should hate him, I’m worth more than that…. Whatever…. But part of my brain is stubbornly optimistic, possibly something a lobotomy could resolve, but I digress.
Back to New Year…. so Richard and his friends had unfortunately moved out of my line of sight. I tried to coerce my friends to go stand nearer to his group. But I was met with a stone wall of common sense. They had my best interests at heart, they didn’t want me to look like a mental stalker, but I really didn’t care. My self esteem ran off with my self respect some time ago.
Five minutes to midnight, and I still hadn’t made any contact with my Ex. Which, I thought, was frankly ridiculous, I didn’t see why I couldn’t wish him Happy New Year in person. After all my phone had been unnecessarily confiscated.
I decided upon direct action. A walk by. Combined with a smile. I figured if I caught his eye and he smiled back then I could legitimately go say hi. And possibly spend midnight with my Ex. Perfect.
OK. So right now I didn’t need an emotional bunker. I needed someone to lock me in a bomb shelter. In a padded room. With a straight jacket. Unfortunately instead….
Using the time honoured excuse of heading to the ladies, I pushed my way through the buzzing crowded pub. As he came into view, my heart pounded and I felt dizzily warm. Probably the by-product of one too many dutch courage gin and tonics.
And then he kissed her. I don’t know who she was…… But she wasn’t me. And it was like taking a sucker punch to the Christmas jumper.
It may be fair to say, I then panicked somewhat. If he’d seen me, gawping at him, I would’ve looked like a right dick. I felt suddenly faint. The fire exit to my right was just in reach and I pushed against the door, escaping from Richard’s presence……and the warmth of the pub.
I needed to cry, drink excessive amounts of wine, and speak to a friend. Preferably simultaneously. But most of all….. I really, really, needed to get back in the pub. But the fire door was a one way kinda thing. I knocked pathetically on it for a couple of moments, until my remaining brain cells woke up my common sense and advised I’d be best off walking round to main entrance.
My watch said – midnight.
The bouncers said – no entry without a valid ticket.
I said – but my ticket is in my handbag inside the pub, along with my coat and confiscated phone.
It’s possible I may then have cried. A lot.
So I spent the arrival of 2013 trying to negotiate with a pair of humourless men, who had biceps the size of my head. Apparently the damsel in distress thing doesn’t work too effectively when you’re wearing runny mascara as blusher.
A very nice smoker person eventually went into the pub, and got one of my friends to come out and find me. My friends then sensibly barred me from going anywhere near Richard for the rest of the night. But I got so very very drunk that I ended up with a two day hangover. And I still have a grumpy knot in my stomach wondering how he could replace me so fast.
So…………..my new years resolution…….…..
I must find out who this new girl is. I must get over my Ex. And drink less.
On the plus side, I have been returned custody of my phone.
I hate January.
Hope you had a better New Year Eve. Here’s to a better 2013.