I think the brief fling is over. I think it probably was a fling in the truest sense of the term because it is over.

I had a little spate of checking to see if he’d messaged me on WhatsApp. I had muted the notifications from him because I thought that it meant I’d have less anxiety about each time the WhatsApp icon popped up. In truth, it meant that I was checking the app all the time to see if there were messages I was missing.

So I had my little obsessive phase. A little blink of time where I thought about him and what it would be like to be together and what it would be like to kiss him again when he’s back in the country. But now that’s gone, and genuinely that’s pretty okay.

(This may have been helped along by the event of me trying to show his profile on Tinder to a friend and realising that his new profile information was asking for kinky kinky sex in the city he’s in.) (Which isn’t something for me, but I don’t mind that it is for him.)

So the journey of post break up continues. It’s not sad anymore, and having a fling has proved to me that I’m capable of touching another person. I might have a date coming up which is always a little exciting.

There’s always going to be that little tie to my ex. My first everything. Someone I think of as a friend, even if friendship right now means sending each other memes on Instagram.

The other day we were chatting about how his band is probably going to break up. He was sad about it and feeling quite defeatist, and then he mentioned that it was karma. Having spent five years with this man, I knew that this was something I was supposed to explore with him.

I briefly thought about responsibility. Is it my responsibility to cheer him up and give pep talks when he’s feeling so down, now? But then, if we’ve made this dedication to friendship, I think it still is. I just won’t give him a snog afterwards.

So. Karma. He tells me it’s karma for how bad he made me feel when he dumped me. Something he feels guilty about ‘at least once a week’. I phoned him – it’s very hard to have an emotional chat through text.

We chatted. I told him how the break up was necessary. How we weren’t perfect for a long time. Things that I’ve thought and written about here, but finally finally got the chance to actually say. I told him how he shouldn’t feel bad for being the one to end things. How I appreciated that on that day, he stayed with me until I asked him to leave. How I appreciated that he kissed me on the forehead. That I was looking to the future a short time later, because it was right to break up.

I got to tell him something that pissed me off about the break up. The one thing he said that’s always gotten under my skin. He didn’t apologise, but that’s okay – I said it. I let out this irritating little bug that’s been sat in my brain for nearly a year, and it was so cathartic.

He told me he was proud of us for being friends. And truthfully, so am I.

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