Wine, Pizza and a shoulder

Wine, Pizza and a shoulder to cry on.
Uni was such a royal pain today.
My brain was on a permanent GoSlow. It started way too early, and finished much too late: Got home. Dropped pack. Kicked shoes off. Fell into the Beanbag. Got stuck into last nights leftovers.

However, just as I was about to smile myself into an unconscious oblivion, I get the message that my old roommate had called.

What led on from there had very little to do with sleep, and more to do with wine, pizza and being a shoulder to cry on. Breakups are hard… but they’re much harder when you’re by yourself. Misery loves company… especially when the company brings red wine, and hot pizza.

I don’t really know how she’s taking the whole situation, as she’s got the ‘tough girl’ approach happening, and wearing a brave face. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her hide her feelings, and I believe that it’ll just take her a little while.
She declared that it was the very last time. “even if he said he missed me, and begged”… And I believe her. She has the courage to back it up.

My own on-campus/off-campus breakup came late last year and I know how the routine goes. It all starts from the “we need to talk” line, and goes downhill from there. Proceedings then usually move on to the Alcohol Stage –
— Go out and get overwhelmingly drunk, and proclaim to the world, in a loud slurry voice, that :
“Go on now go, walk out the door.
Just turn around now, cause you’re not welcome anymore.
Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye?
You think I’d crumble? You think I’d lay down and die?
Oh no not I! I will survive!”

There is then the after effects. A violent hangover, and all the time in the world to think about what actually happened.

Then there’s the Thinking Stage. The worst part.
—-Everything feels subtly different, as if some bastard broke into your house, and moved all the light switches. It takes a while to adjust. A while to redefine yourself as a person, rather than just half of “us”.
Everything seems to remind you of some funny little story, or some little quirk that you start to miss. The stupid things, the unreasonably cute things.

Relatives and associates try to cheer you up by saying “there’s plenty more fish in the sea”, which does very little to ease the hurt, and only adds to the feeling of self pity. They mean well, but achieve very little. Besides, who really wants to date a fish, anyway?.

Breakups are hard, even harder when you don’t have good friends around you. I was lucky enough to have some really good mates around me, keeping me on the planet.
I just hope I can help her, as much as she’s helped me.

Roommates forever.
Love ya Rach.

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