The Ex

There are days I have plenty of sad topics to cover but I like to find a positive from a negative. Take my ex-boyfriend. No really, take him!

I will liken him to Wentworth Miller (actor).  Are you familiar with him?  I’ll help, Prison Break.  Full body tattoos, yeah!!!! Deep breath and Gay. Yep, ladies can’t have him. He’s into guys, which is fine. I used to have a picture of him on a pinboard. C’mon, we all did. It’s nice to dream.

But gay?  Gay!  We’re fine. The other team scores another one but my ex, I digress, poster on my pinboard and my stepdaughter (yeah, it was brief, at the time I had a step-daughter.)

She asked her dad if the photo was of him?  He looked at me and I smiled a little and shook my head. Now, I thought we had been together about four years, but apparently, we had not been. I guess because he sent mixed messages. I like provincial furniture and decorations. He suggested if I could save some money, we could have a trip to France.

Me, now?  So, I can have another fucking holiday to the most romantic place in the world with a so-called boyfriend who didn’t have the same ideas for our relationship that I did.  FUCK NO!  Thank you.