A Night Out

24th May

So despite my initial panic that my muscles would never loosen and I would be crippled with post-gym pain for the rest of my life, I recovered and have also returned. Not to the boxing class - I vow I will never inflict that much damage upon my body ever again, but I went to the gym and kept it nice and easy with a few hours on the exercise machines and my endorphins have risen so much that for at least half an hour a day I am actually forgetting that I have a broken heart.

I have failed to inform you why, during this time where I am nursing myself into a normal state, I am not working like every other sane adult on the planet. I am supposed to be on a 6 week holiday traveling the Caribbean with twatface, ironically we were meant to leave the day he shat on our relationship and walked out. I couldn't face going alone and so stupidly decided it would be better to lose all the money I had invested into the trip, avoid the hot weather, beautiful beaches, cocktails and sunsets and stay at home alone instead.

I am sitting in front of my full length mirror examining the wrinkles on my face. I swear there are at least 4 more lines on my face compared to a few weeks back. Sometimes when I look into the mirror I am never quite sure what I am expecting to see and get a slight shock by the person who is staring back at me. I mean not always, but sometimes I kind of expect a slightly younger, better looking, happier version of me, and I somewhat disappointing with reality. Today is one of those days, however I am heading out tonight so have a great excuse to fancy up my hair and face and pretend I am 10 years younger!

It is with such precision that I apply each of my 10 piece make up regime. I also wash, dry and tong my hair. Men get it so easy! All they need to do is shower and put on a new shirt, they don't seem to worry about their features, their eyelashes looking thin, eyebrows being messy or if there's enough bronzer on their cheeks. They also don't seem to have the same inability to choose an outfit from the wardrobe. I suffer from a disorder which does not allow me to leave the house after trying on the very first outfit. I have to create a selection and then with all my outfits spread on my bed narrow it down to between 3 - 5. I then have to try each one on, with various shoes and prance about in-front of my mirror. I check out how it looks if I am seated, standing and finally dancing with my arms in the air. It is so time consuming and half of the time I end up deciding on the first outfit 45 minutes after I initially picked it out of the closet. This of course is exactly what happens this evening. I settle on a pair of skinny black jeans, black stilettos and a gorgeous green low cut top. I am pretty happy with the end result and realize if I spent 2 hours each morning getting ready I would probably be a lot more satisfied with the lady in the mirror,  I also realize that 2 hours each morning is extremely unrealistic and a slight waste of time.

The DubClub is busy we hover near the dance floor and watch in wonder at so many pissed youngsters so early in the evening. Its about 9.30pm and honestly, some of these people cant even hold themselves up. Eva is not quite herself I can tell she is very wary about me and eyeballing me a little too much. "Shots?" I ask hoping she will relax with a little more alcohol. A few rounds later and it works, we are propped at the bar chatting to a group of 19 year olds, asking them how they can possibly be old enough to be allowed in a club and do their parents know where they are? Its amusing and they think we are hilarious, which only encourages us further, we do another round of shots with them and decide to leave when the Justin Beiber lookalike puts his hand on Eva's arse.

Following the sound of 80's classics we trawl into The Bar to find it suits us much better. Not too many people, even less youngsters and plenty of places to sit (ouch we are getting old!). We are happily putting the world to right, bantering and slurring and generally having a great time when I feel the hot iron rod slice straight through my heart. The pain is unbearable, I feel like my organs are all exploding one at a time. I cant breathe and think I am going to throw up. He's here and has his hands all over some tall blonde. My eyes well up and I can see Eva's eyes dart around the room trying to find the source of my hysteria. It doesn't take her long, she spots the Devil and his Evil Witch and warns me to stay put. She marches straight over and I want to yell for her to stop but I am actually paralyzed. I watch her, in what seems like slow motion, pull them both apart and slap him full force across the face. As his face is smashed towards my direction I realize something doesn't look right. I spent years studying every single feature on his handsome face but at this moment in time I don't recognize any of them - can you really forget a face that quickly? I'm confused when it hits me like a punch in the stomach -  FUCK it's not him! The blonde grabs Eva's hair and yanks her to the floor, I see her stumble onto her knees, grovelling and apologizing continually. I on the otherhand have sunk underneath the table. I am completely overwhelmed, flooded with relief but still feeling the real pain sobbing like a baby. Eva grabs me, pulls me from the table and with a look of shock and humor tells us we're leaving right now and literally pushes me out the door. We quickly dart into a nearby alleyway when she looks at me, I am blubbering and shaking, and just as she goes to say something, bursts into uncontrollable laughter. The next 5 minutes pass with me shifting from laughter to tears and back to laughter again, whilst Eva is still in absolute hysterics. Once she has calmed down, we buy a kebab and get a taxi back to my place.

As we sober up, huddled under a blanket on my couch, we are still trying to work out how Eva slapped an innocent man in the face. How could I mistake a complete stranger for the person I know inside out, we decide that in fact I did not know him well enough hence the sharp unexpected exit he took from my life. Even though it was a false alarm I realized tonight how people really can die from a broken heart. That minute of pain I felt in The Bar was so real, so fierce, so suffocating I knew I had to avoid any chance of feeling like that again. Eva suggests I book another holiday, a last minute trip to get away from this place I know so well, with so many memories and explore a little and relax overseas. I like the idea and promise myself that tomorrow I will look into options and try to escape if only for a little while.