In my last post, I was debating a situation involving a lad in the year above. Remember? No?
Didn’t think so.
Well… I just bit the bullet so to speak and just told him that I’d had enough. Not in those words, obviously, before you bite my head off for being mean.
The thing is… I had a day off school for the strikes on Tuesday and was hanging out with some friends for the day. He knew this. He knew because he’d asked me about four times previous to said day off. I swear the boy has the memory of a goldfish…
Getting back on track. So, I’d mentioned that I was with friends and if I didn’t reply for a while, that was why. But what did I get?
U ok xx
U ok xx
*sighs* I’m not even joking. These were half an hour-to an hour and a half apart. If I didn’t reply the first few times, did he not realise that I probably wasn’t going to reply to the next five?! I DO NOT NEED A SPAM OF ‘HIYA’s’ for crying out loud.
At the end of the day, I just felt intoxicated. It was too much; NEWS FLASH: excessive amounts of messages are not hot. Anything but.
Soooo, I just kind of wrote a long winded paragraph full of bull about having a lot of stuff going on and needing time to myself to sort things out (that much was true), not being ready for a relationship, that he needs to reduce the texts a little, etc etc. I felt so bad, because, of course, I know what it’s like to be on the other side. Buuuuut, at the end of the day, it was infuriating.
He was insistent that we could ‘make it work’ and I just kind of sat there like… hahahahahahahaha no.
I’m so nice, aren’t I!
All in all, he seemed to be okay with it, and said he’d leave me alone for a bit.
No. No he did not.
The next day:
Have you sorted things out yet?
I cannot sort my life out in a day.
So I told him this and he apologised and again, said he’s leave me be for a while,
Surely he must have done so this time?
I think there was a gap of a day. And then came the ‘Hiya’.
I felt obliged to answer so it was small talk like always. I was shopping in town at this time so when he asked what I was up to, I said so. Now, maybe this is just me reading too far into it… But, when he said ‘If u don’t mind me asking who with’ The suffocating feeling returned. Did it really matter? Was he jealous? It just so happened that I was just with my mum and sister, but it just appeared to be very suffocating.
Next came the sob story: the ‘fallen-out-with-a-‘good-mate’-and-I-regret-ever-being-born-and-everyone-hates-me’ sob story to be precise. Oh well done, try to make me feel bad for you.
But I’m just so done with him.
And so is the story of… Let’s call him A.G.3. Awkward Guy 3. Pretty apt? Yep.
Moving on to other boys… More interesting boys. *cue excessive winking*
I have decided that the guy who sits next to the twat in front of me in French… *drum roll* is hot. And not so much of a massive twat as I first thought. In fact, he’s really nice. And he talks to me. That’s a first. Plus I have his Snapchat. And he’s tall. Tall guys are just… My dream. He’s beaut. We spend French lessons taking the piss out of the idiot, now named Imbécile which is hilarious. Ahhh, French has suddenly become much more enjoyable. Let’s call said hot guy, …T.H.G.i.F – Tall Hot Guy in French. How creative.
Nom nom nom.
I’m currently having an ongoing war with Skate about who’s hotter. Myself or him. Totes flirtay leik. I’m very much enjoying it.
Bon nuit mes amis.