Thursday, 16 January 2014

No longer the DFS Sale?

Hello chums.
Sorry I haven't written in so long - I've been trying to decide what on earth to do about Humbug! He stood me up last Sunday and this sparked all kinds of doubt as all my friends suddenly let loose on their qualms about him! So then I started thinking and getting annoyed that he doesn't make enough effort with me.
And then I realised that I'm his DFS Sale.

Nobody gets excited by the DFS Sale because they know it's always there - no matter how many times the advert assures you that it will "End on Sunday" you know  that there will be another sale next week, so it's not an exciting ordeal. This is how Humbug sees me. I'm there, I'm available. So why should he bother coming to DFS when he knows I'm on sale?

But that's when it hit me: enough is enough! I deserve to be somebody's Topshop Sale or (not trying to brag) Harrod's Sale (well their sales are ridiculous, though - £1000 down to £800 harrumph).
Anyways, you get my jist.

Humbug and I have been in a bit of a Cold War but I called him and we are OK now (?). We've basically decided to hide our problems and continue as normal (not exactly the healthiest of solutions!)

Our conversation was going swimmingly tonight until I made a Stupid Cock-Up: I accidentally let slip my ridiculous jealousy for the girl he always flirts with (the Pretty, Funny, Cool one) and he thought that was bitchy of me to call her a flirt. So then he was like DEFENDING her! It was such a turn-off!
I ended up saying "Maybe you should go out with her then".
She. Is. Stupidly. Perfect. And she makes me feel like boring Vivien from Legally Blonde whenever she's around. And he claims that they're just friends and that he would never cheat on me with her because he 'prefers' me, but the Green Jealousy Monster is back!

I've tried to suppress it with all my might. But. No. I just can't! It drives me crazy! Every English lesson I have to sit behind them both chatting and laughing and hugging each other (like a couple!!) and I'm just sitting there like a melon. It's torture. And he doesn't understand why it bothers me...

This is such a dilemma.

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