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Talking Codshit...

  • By girly-d
  • On 14/04/2020

I used to be in love with him.

I still have every one of the letters and the cards that he made me...along with the jar full of folded bits of paper, all with random but beautiful things that he loved about me written on them...the jar with the million dollar, burning question tucked away right at the very bottom of it that I finally got to open the night before my birthday.

And I would have...I would have married this guy.

But that was then...and hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Fast forward almost 18 months and we are sat together in a bar.

I kind of wish we weren't.

Because I work here. I didn't know that he was coming. It kind knocked me off guard. But there's a festival in town and he sent me a message and so I thought that it might be nice to say hi.

And it was at first.

And now he's trying to apologise and he's telling me I'm gorgeous and he's talking about an 'us' again...

But then he goes to the bar to get another drink and I watch as he starts to talk cod-shit to the giggling group of girls already stood there...and I cringe as he gets his wallet out and starts to shout to anyone who'll listen about sambuccas and shots now being on him...whilst flashing his cash like some sad, alcoholic version of the milky bar kid...

Because he is.

An alcoholic I mean...not the milky bar kid, obviously.

You see I met this guy in detox. Which means that he probably shouldn't be drinking...

And I fell a little bit in love with him in there...because he was sober then and romantic and kind and attentive.

Which sadly isn't how he's rolling today.

So I finish my water...that I got for myself as he's seemingly forgotten I'm here, and I put on my coat and I leave.

Because as much as I loved this guy at the time, things are very, very different now...and I really can't be arsed with sitting here listening to him talking cod-shit any longer.

We are on completely different wavelengths.

And I'm cool with that...

Because I talk a different language myself these's called Butterfly. The language that you learn through hard work and transformation...

 You can't talk butterly to a caterpillar...

Bye Dave...

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