Chapter 4. Getting back at an ex by being beautiful?

29 May

“he felt me up but nothing more. It was like being 15 again and being 15 was never great!”

Everyone needs a reason to be beautiful. Getting back at an ex is the usual motive.

I used to tell myself that I was trying to be beautiful to get back at a boy from Uni halls. I wanted him to see that he wasn’t better than me and to maybe want me again. At which point I would just politely walk away. After all, I didn’t want him back I just wanted him to want me back.

We didn’t really date but we used to spend a lot of time together. Almost every night we would stay up and watch movies then go to sleep cuddled up. We used to kiss and he felt me up but nothing more. It was like being 15 again and being 15 was never great!

At the time I thought he was being romantic and he must have liked me but, deep down I worry that he actually found me too unattractive to want to sleep with me. He was an Italian student and way out of my league. Despite the language barrier I know he was Catholic so part of me thinks he was genuine and was waiting to take it further. However he was hardly a priest and I know Italian’s have a reputation for sex.

One day I was sat in my room and it dawned on me that he was stringing me along. He only ever invited me down to his room and never came to mine, never talked to me outside of the building, never went anywhere with me, never paid attention to me around his friends. The list went on. With horror I realised that I was being taken for a total idiot. I was that girl. One of those girls I had noticed in school who was obsessed with a boy who didn’t like them back. I wasn’t obsessed with him at all but it must have looked that way.

I deleted his number and never spoke to him again.

After I moved out of halls I never saw him again. I didn’t even know if he was still in the same country. I imagined little scenarios in my head in which I would see his friend and get talking. I would then casually ask about him and tell her to say hi from me. Then she would tell him how amazing I looked.

I saw her. Its funny when the little scenes in your head work out in real life. She stared at me for ages as if she recognised me from somewhere. I smiled and introduced myself and it clicked. She was shocked and couldn’t stop complimenting me. Then she said he was still here and that she would tell him she had seen me. She said “he will regret letting you go, you look incredible”.

That didn’t happen. When you lie in bed at night and imagine, those things rarely work out. I saw her in a shop, walked straight towards her. She glanced at me and didn’t even register that she knew me. I was a stranger to her. I walked out fighting back tears. The only hope I can get from that is that I look so different that people don’t even recognise me. Makes it hard when you want people to recognise how different you are. I guess I need something else to be beautiful for because I have come too far now.

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