please, by all means, stab me in the chest. It'll be fun.

So this is a story about me, an awkward 18 year old who hasn't grasped the concept of eyebrow waxing or any sort of make up, and a hot guy. (Why is it always about a hot guy?)
Anywho, so awkward me meets hot guy one night through her hot, desirable and ultra cool best friend. Hot guy and hot girl are clearly a perfect match, and hot guy is naturally attracted to hot girl. Awkward me never got a second glance, but to be fair, I wouldn't have looked at me twice either because I looked somewhat like this:  

So, we're all hanging out one night getting drunk and talking about life and love and other things we really had no idea about. (Though, obviously we knew everything because we were 18 and drunk.)

Naturally, the hot guy wants to show his undying affection to hot girl, so he cut his hand with a pocket knife....or piece of glass....or really sharp stick....I really cant remember. I think he was trying to drunkenly prove that his love for her will last forever. (I think the blood was supposed to symbolise life foreverness, but really, it was just awkward).

BLOOD + LIFE = FOREVERNESS. 

Of course hot girl is far to cool and hot for hot guy, not to mention she had like five other guys cutting themselves up with sharp things in an attempt to prove their love, so, in a nice and ever so cool manner, she said she loved him too, but only as a friend. And so began a life long friendship.

Meanwhile, awkward me is watching all this with a bitter taste in my mouth while smiling politely and telling hot guy he's really awesome and laughing at all his stupid, unfunny jokes. Because hot people always need their ego's boosted. Not to mention I'm drinking tequila through a straw (because clearly, my self esteem wasn't low enough) and dying a little bit inside with each passing second while thinking "I will never get this guy".

Skip 7 years. I have finally discovered makeup and eyebrow waxing and got boobs. Somewhere in there I also grew a sense of humor and a small amount of confidence. Congratulations to me.
I am still friends with super cool, hot best friend, and who should she bring to drinks one day? why, it's hot guy from, like, way back, man....  ("like" and "man" were common words back then).

This time, hot guy and I get along great, to be honest, I don't think he even knew I was the awkward 18 year old from way back. (Bonus).

We drank, laughed, barely broke eye contact the entire time. I was as thrilled as....well, as an ugly teenager getting asked to the school dance by the most popular boy in the school, only it's not some horrible, demoralising prank played by a bunch of douche bags for shits and giggles. He genuinely liked me. Even hot best friend was sickened and made some gagging noise as she took herself off the the bathroom while he pushed a strand of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ears.

So, a week or so later we went on our first date. Looking back on it, it probably wasn't the best idea to do the "first date" while coming down from a two day bender, and I'm almost positive, a mild dose of alcohol poisoning. But these things happen and we got through it (with minimal vomiting) and within a week we were officially going out. We spent all our time together, cooking dinners for each other, arguing over the when the salt should go in the pasta water (when it's boiled people, not before), and I was going to work each day on a maximum of 2 hours sleep but felt like I'd had 10. It was new relationship bliss.

For about 2 weeks.

So to cut a long story kind of short, but not really that short, he broke up with my on my birthday. ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY. "happy birthday *insert funny, cute name he had for me here* (I think it was trashbag. An appropriate name for me during that time of my life. But that's a whole other story.) I just can't do this. I'm not ready. Have a great night out" Thank you so very much, hot guy. You really know how to make a birthday great. Oh, what's that? No gift? fuck you even more. But that's what I said in my head. What I really said was "it's ok, I understand"     Did I?     Did I really?  I understood he was a douche bag, that's about it.

What I have seemingly neglected to mention is the fact he had been married for quite a few years and the divorce was just about to be finalised. His mental state wasn't brilliant and at that time his life motto was: I don't drink to get drunk, I drink to forget. I think trashbag would have been a more appropriate name for him, but anyway.
I WAS THE REBOUND GIRL. I didn't realise this at the time because apparently I'm retarded. But he didn't want anything serious. So here I was, all "la-di-da in like/almost love, and he was all I-thought-I-could-have-a-relationship-but-turns-out-I-don't-and-I-just-want-to-do-you-instead.....how-'bout-it? But retarded me saw I-thought-I-could-have-a-relationship-but-turns-out-I-don't-and-I-just-want-to-do-you-instead.....how-'bout-it? as, he REALLY likes me, my first name would go perfectly with his last name!! YAY FOR LIKE/ALMOST LOVE!! But my new found like/almost love, sadly, was not to be.

After we broke up, we hung out as friends for months. We were still basically in a relationship, but just not without the kissing or sex. We avoided the rest of the world and I especially ignored their stupid logic about how we shouldn't hang out so much because he's only going to hurt me more.......yeah, like that was possible.

It was.

The months of emotional support, the months of trying to cheer him up, the months of him sleeping in my bed and hugging me to sleep which completely fucked with my head, the nights of drinking to forget with him - all fine. But him making out with my pole dancing instructor/friend....at my house...in my bed? Now THAT was the final straw.

But it was time. I had to let him go. The worst thing was he didn't even understand why I was so upset at the concept he made out with my friend...at my house...in my bed. She knew because I told her, no, begged her, not to do anything with him. But she's a massive whore.

By this point you're wondering where the hell I'm going with this story. It gets better.

3 years later... 

It's true what they say about time healing all wounds. From never wanting to see/speak/hear of him again and hoping he burned in the fiery pits of hell for all eternity...

...we eventually patched things up and are now friends. We don't really see each other, (except that one time two years ago when we fooled around), but we talk online a fair bit.

A few weeks ago he asked what I thought of a particular ring. It was a 1-1.5ct black diamond. Me, being a diamond loving girl, said it was fucking awesome and whoever is getting it is very lucky, and even though it looked like an engagement ring, it is apparently not an engagement ring, so I told him to make that clear before she opened it because, that could be massively disappointing. Not to mention awkward when she's like "YES! YES I'LL MARRY YOU!!!" And he'd have to be like "Yeeeah, um, no...."

So tonight I find out that their 2 year relationship has officially ended. Too bad. So sad.

Now, even though I don't have feelings "like that" for him anymore, it's been some time since he's been able to torment me emotionally. So I guess he thought it was about time, and once again, ever so brutally shoved salt into my cavernous, issue-filled, man-hating wounds, and he actually asked if I wanted the ring. Do I want the ring? Hm. Let me think.........................................? No.

Ok, is it just me or is that SUPER Inappropriate?  No fucktard, funnily enough I DON'T want your sloppy-seconds diamond ring you bought your now ex-girlfriend who you loved because she was so "kind, caring and sweet" (was I an evil, horrible, bitch-whore?), and who you could make it work with for two years, even though you could barely make it work with me for two weeks - after breaking up with my on my birthday and making out with my friend....at my house....in my bed, when you knew I had feelings for you.  If you like, you can stab me in the chest with something sharp (a stick?), dig out my heart, stomp on it with your gross, germ covered shoe and smoosh the ring into my once beating but now lifeless heart? Would that be better for you?

Fucker.