  Usually when I head down to my hometown for the weekend, I can anticipate getting drunk, dancing and possibly snogging a cute boy. This weekend was NOTHING like what I wanted. Not only did I not get drunk, instead of snogging a cute boy I end up running into my EX. A.k.a. the BLACK HOLE. At my bar. Small consolation that he's still the smarmy loser I broke up with.
This relationship tops ALL my "I've been hurt" stories. The Black Hole was truly atrocious. He stole my stuff, he slept with other girls in my bed, he lent them my clothes, and he "borrowed" money that, of course, I will never see again. I feel foolish for admitting that I let someone do that to me, but I was in "SAVE HIM" mode. I was sure that if I just kept smiling and supporting him, he would see how much I loved him and then return my love.
I had to shield him from the cruel world, where nothing in his life ever turned out right (because of his stupendous BAD LUCK, yeah right). Finally I got my spine back and I gave him the boot - but he wasn't gone until after several very scary and aggressive fights, the disapearance of strange things, like: one fluffy white towel, my pepper grinder, the fleece he gave me for Christmas, some tupperware... The man was a klepto. I wanted him out of my house. So, he was gone, and I was left OVERJOYED. To my surprise, I wasn't heart broken. I'd already been through that in the relationship. I was HAPPY.
So so so happy. I was happy when I realized that I was not the bitch that he'd constantly told me I was. I was not a hateful creature. I was a nice girl, who had been taken advantage of. So he could go and fuck himself. For the next six months he called me... he wanted to talk, he wanted to see me, he wanted to get back together. After constant rejection he screamed down the phone, "I'm SO GLAD I broke up with you!! " So, Friday night, there he was.
In my bar. Slime-ing his way around, shaking hands, schmoozing with the trailer trash. I tried my hardest to ignore him. He walked behind me and I turned my back on him trying very hard to remain calm. He still scared me a bit. My best friend sent out her best, "if looks could kill. " I felt small. I turned around in time to see a self satisfied smile on his face and looked away quickly, as if I had been looking at a tree, or a piece of furniture.
I hoped that it didn't show that my heart was bursting out of my rib cage and every nerve in my body was screaming, "RUN! " He never said a word to me, just that awful sickly smile and then he left the bar. I spent the rest of the night trying hard to have a good time and then I ran into ANOTHER of my horror stories, but more on that later.
I was surprised at the effect the Black Hole had on me. It's been about three years since we broke up. I spent the next three days weepy, insecure and upset. At least it's over with. If I see him ever again I will know that he is no threat to me, even though my emotions will probably still run wild for a while.
I felt pity for him too. He's very good looking, he's personable, he has the capability of getting people to open up, talk to him, like him and give him chances that they wouldn't give other people. He's got all these wonderful gifts and he FUCKS IT UP, every time. He lies, cheats, steals, is petty, unreliable, self-interested... it goes on and on. I guess what I'm trying to say is that although he upset me, the lasting impression is "poor guy. " He's a joke. He hasn't learned anything. 
