I’m staring to laugh about this now, mostly because I’m in a really good space. But I didn’t laugh so much when it happened.
Violet. Meet me for a drink later, usual place, 5 pm.
Cool, I said to the guy with the pink couch. He’d been super stressed and not so well, so we’d had little contact.
I should’ve known something was up. He hadn’t tried to have phone sex, he hadn’t tried to persuade me to have anal sex and he hadn’t reminded me he was the best lover in the world.
He had been icy cold and Germanic.
Which he is anyway, nothing new here.
We met for a drink. Chatted about the heat, his health, stress at work, all that kind of making conversation and not getting down to the real thing stuff.
He never asked about me. Although he did tell me I looked gorgeous and that any man would be lucky to have me.
Well then, I said, it’s lucky you have me.
And he replied:-
I’m going to end things with you Violet. I’ve met someone. I didn’t know how to tell you. But I want to give this new person a chance; it may go somewhere.
I sat, seriously stunned. He’d always told me he couldn’t do commitment.
But we did have a kind of agreement.
That we would not be with anyone else at the same time. I had assured him I had no other man in my life. He had assured me there were no other women.
From what he was telling me, he had been seeing this woman for a few weeks.
At. The. Same. Time. As. Me.
I was upset. I didn’t want to give him the pleasure but my eyes filled with tears.
It felt like a betrayal.
And I was humiliated.
He leaned over and looked me in the eyes. My lovely blue warm inviting eyes. His cold cuntish unemotional eyes.
You are going to be okay, aren’t you Violet?
You’re not going to make a scene are you Violet?
Are we safe if we bump into you Violet?
We, already. We?
I’m not the kind of person to make a scene, I told him. You and your girlfriend are safe. But Jesus, you lied. You lied to me.
He didn’t flinch. Or look remotely guilty. But he said this. This, dear reader, and I do not exaggerate; this is what he said.
Violet, if it doesn’t work out with her I’m going to call you. We can start over. Let’s see what happens.
The guy with the pink couch has an ego bigger than the entire fucking Nazi Party.
And a coldness to match.
And it was that that got me. The zero emotion.
He is incapable of feeling. Which is why, even though I found him bright and interesting and edgy, I had always been cautious.
I wont make a scene, I said. But I am going to leave now. Please, don’t contact me again.
I walked away then deleted his numbers off my phone (second time, third time) as I sat in my car. I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I think it was more the humiliation than anything else.
How dare he? How dare he suggest he contact me again IF IT DOESN’T WORK OUT!
I know I said I wouldn’t make a scene because I’m not that kind of person.
But I lied.
I look forward to meeting this new woman.
I look forward to making the biggest scene ever.
And then setting fire to the couch.