You Flaky Bastard

Apparently my subconscious thinks that matters between Spooner and I remain unresolved because it's spilling over into my dream landscape. Well, my dear subconscious, here's a memo. It's over. Deal with it. There's nothing to it anymore. But since you seem to think that matters are unresolved, then let me indulge you and RANT as I should have, would have and could have done in real life. This is the rant that never happened because I'm just too bloody adult, too bloody mature, too bloody patient and too bloody passive to actually do it.

WARNING: Seriously colourful language ahead.

Dear Spooner,

How's things? Isn't that what you always liked to ask? Well, things on my end are great. Even better now that I have managed to get over you and your abject stupidity. The only issue I have is the fact that it's been more than a month since we split up and you're still holding on to my clothes. Seriously, are you trying to fit your right arm into the right leg of my jeans? Or are you planning to donate my clothes to your next bedroom conquest? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? Why don't you have the bloody decency to just return my things and get lost? I know procrastination is one of your greatest fortes but holding on to your ex girlfriend's clothes and shoes is just not normal. Maybe you're more demented than I give you credit for.

By the way, I have been dying to say this to you. I think you're a flaky bastard. What? You didn't get that? Don't worry, I am patient enough to repeat myself. I THINK YOU'RE A FLAKY FUCKING BASTARD. Why you ask? Seriously, do you want me to extrapolate with my prolific repertoire of words? Well okay then. You're a flaky fucking bastard because you're indecisive, childish, immature, moronic, disrespectful, stupid, and ultimately ball-less specimen of a man. Quite an insult to all the men out there really but well, you make a fine example of the type that no one should aspire to become.

No it's not a low blow darling. You seriously need to reconsider calling yourself a man because you're a spineless piece of shit. You accused me of being a cling-on. You accused me of being insecure. You accused me of wanting out of the relationship. (WHAT RELATIONSHIP?!) With all those things you said, you might as well have said that I had sprouted an extra three heads and a tail covered in scales. Wait, let's add in the ability to breathe fire out of my mouth whilst we're at it. A cling-on? ME??! A CLING-ON?!? You retarded swine. You stupid, fucked up moron. You half-witted piece of dog shit. Has it ever occurred to you that YOU were the one always clinging on? You were the one who wanted to see me all the time. You were the one sending texts everyday. You were the one introducing me to your friends and telling your parents about me. You were the one referring to me as your GIRLFRIEND. You were the one asking me to stay over during the weekends. You were the one asking me to wait around in your apartment whilst you were out playing football. YOU! DAMMIT. YOU ARE THE GODDAMNED CLING-ON. I think I need to get someone to hit you with a bat. And yes, you DARED to accuse me of being just that when I was the one ALWAYS running off in the opposite direction to have my own space. You're fuckwit I tell you. An utterly ripe and prime fuckwit.

How your last serious girlfriend tolerated you for 5 years is an utter mystery to me. Did you disrespect her the same way? Did you plan a boys-only trip and not tell her? Did you sabotage her trust in you in similar ways? What you did was in many ways UNFORGIVABLE. Not only did you disrespect me, you insulted me by saying you didn't have a proper reason for not telling me earlier. And worse, you planned to meet some girl behind my back. I don't know what your intentions were but let's assume the worst because after everything you did and did not do, I can't think of anything but the worst when it comes to you. Don't you even attempt to take the higher ground here because what you did was entirely uncalled for. You admitted it yourself. And you still had the nerve to turn around and pin things on me when I asked you if I was wasting my time. Oh, fuck you.

You're a ball-less git. First you blamed things on me. Then you said you were confused. After that you said you didn't know what you wanted anymore and then you concluded with not wanting to mess me around and agreed to call things off. Why could you not just man up and tell me that you weren't interested in me anymore and tell me that to my face? You cowardly, lily-livered prick. Fine. Go ahead and sabotage every possible relationship you will have. You know Miss Perfect doesn't exist and you also seem to live in this fairytale land where you will meet the 'right one' and things will all just fall into place and you will live happily ever after. Pray tell, which fucking children's book have you been reading the past 39 years of your life? Could you please let me in on the title because I really want to live in denial like you for the rest of my years too. Grow up man. A relationship takes two. And if you claim to have the attention span of a gnat, then I think you should spare all your potential partners the misery and NOT go out with them at all. Because we all know what happens when you get bored. You run off to Phuket.

I'm not going to blame myself for any of this. This is ALL YOUR FAULT. My only crime in all of this is not realizing sooner that I was being taken for a long and elaborate ride only to get kicked off the bus in the end. I did everything within my means to accommodate you. I actually liked you. In fact I liked you enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. And you returned my kindness, my time, my affection and my trust with what? "I don't know what to think or do... one minute I want to carry on, the next I am reluctant." Over email no less. You sickening, nausea-inducing twat.

*exhale*

You know, every single person in my life who has been privy to what transpired wants to either murder you or cause you grievous bodily harm. My brother wants to rearrange your facial features, my girlfriends want to rip you to pieces and even I would gladly pour honey all over you and stick you on a giant anthill. How did I get here Spooner? You were charming and cool and fun to be around. How did I get from really liking you and wanting to spend time with you to wanting to set you on fire and watch you burn very slowly? Either way, you've proved one thing bloody well.

You're flaky bastard. Goodbye.