Single again.
Slightly unexpected (but albeit eventually inevitable) split happened last night. I got to throw things and everything, which was secretly immensely satisfying. I felt like Arthur Fowler losing it in Eastenders, only I wasn’t wearing a dressing gown, and my big widescreen telly is too big to throw…and I haven’t got an allotment.
But it was all a bit shocking. Emm has made the decision we’ve both been trying to make to end it, just I wasn’t expecting it last night. Throwing things was my way of going “I’ve can think of no arguments to make you stay, which in itself is pretty telling. I best do something to fill the void of silence. How about something dramatic. Oh, I broke a plate.”
The other thing going through my head was this adds another perfect bit to Romantic Comedy for Edinburgh this year. Was going to try and write a new end section this weekend. There we go.
This morning though, waking up with a slight hangover, remembering what I’d forgotten during sleep, the prospect of being single again hit me. In equals parts both good and bad. The good is that I can do all the things single people do, the bad is that past experience states that I rarely do all these things.
So, on this, the first morning of singledom I find myself sat in the bath finishing off the dry rich tea biscuits I bought the other night…and I still have no milk for tea
Both Rock and roll….