Every rule in the break-up handbook

On Saturday I think I broke every rule in the break-up handbook.

He called at 4 to 'see how you were doing'. As soon as we parted ways he did about a thousand things with his multitude of friends that were free that day. I called a few of mine, but they were all busy. Took myself to the gallery to see Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

I cancelled on bonfire night. Did want to go, but couldn't handle the thought of 1,000 questions on George. Also, my toe was/is in agony. I think I kicked something in a fit of rage. The pain was getting worse throughout the day. Could have broken a toe.

I called him back at about 7.30. Sitting on the river watching the fireworks alone, and called to end it, because he hadn't let me that morning. But he jumped in before me and barreled out his big speech before I got a chance, said 'best to have a break'. I flashed angry with him about how I called him to talk. Him: Talk then. Me (Little Miss Inarticulate): I don't know. Umm... I'm just so angry. i feel used after last night.

He said we were on a 'break'. That he didn't know whether it was all over but he definitely wants to see me and be part of my life because he's gotten so close to me, and he always will love me. He doesn't want me to just not be there. The relationship was starting to 'fade'.

At 12.30am I tossed and turned. Txted him.

Me:'Can't sleep. Are you awake?'
Him. 'About to go to bed'
Me. 'This isn't a break, is it? This split is forever.'
Him. 'I think so.'

The next part shames me. I rang him. I tried txting but needed to hear him say it after all of our pussy footing around the subject. He was gruff and said he was about to go to bed. He was also a bit pissed. I said I couldn't sleep because the whole room stinks of him. Harsh, stupid and irrational, but true.

I got up and stripped the bed and opened the windows to clear it all away. Two in the fucking AM.

Sunday - I have a suit at his and an interview this week, so needed to get it back. He met me to give it back.

The awkward speech about how he's been having these doubts for a while...

Him: You must've been able to tell with how we've been this week. This is the longest we've not seen each other. You must've seen that I had doubts.
Me: Let's see, you worked back everynight, and I had plans every night. You emailed me everyday with messages like 'you're bling' and 'you're the bomb' and called me every night. You invited me around on Thursday. That's not really cooling off. You just wanted to fool around one last time on Friday.
Him: No. I was trying to save it. I was being cowardly.

Drunk old geezer gives me the eye, then approaches George as I go to the loo.

Geezer: You're girlfriend is very sexy. Is she a cop? She looks like a cop. I used to be a cop.

Life is too random for movies and fiction to capture accurately.

Later, we wait for the same train. I would've caught a later one, but didn't fancy waiting an hour. Why is it that when I'm angry I turn into a comedian, making jokes, trying to make the peace and getting him to laugh? Anyone that really knows me well (Claire, Tim and John) know that when I'm doing that, I'm actually fuming. It's only a device.

Me: I think you will regret this.
Him, steps forward, holds my arm and says: I already do.

Reach my train stop, he says 'This is where we hug'. I don't want too, but I don't even think fast enough to resist. Hug him feeling worn out like a limp cloth. The camera does not pan around us as the violins play. Instead a bunch of Londoners press around us, jostling. The train lurches. My arms barely touch him as he squeezes me. Again, I feel used. I get off the train and don't look back.

The rest of the day got weird.