Instead I have to hear this from my friend, "Rodger came into the pub I work at yesterday... and he had a girl with him. I mean, she might've been his cousin... well actually he had his arms around her and she matches the description of the other girl he was flirting with."
I had hoped they would just be friends.
That hope was a lie.
Mum held onto me, whispering "he's not worth your tears, there are plenty of other fish in the sea, your father will be happy he doesn't have to share his crumbed cutlets anymore."
Still it hurts. I really liked him. I liked him so much I ignored the three month rule... yeah, it happened once.
So his sob story about an ex-girlfriend cheating on him and the promises he never would or the word "exclusive" really mean nothing coming from his lips. Its a good thing I haven't heard from him since Monday because now I can safely say he's an asshole, wait, a cheating asshole and she is a slut (I don't normally like to use that word but if you have a boyfriend, as she claimed, and you cheat then I sorry you have made yourself into that word. It has nothing to do with numbers).
All I want now is my shirt back... and for him to hurt like I do. No wait. Rot in Hell Rodger!