She’d had enough. She woke up one day and decided. She’d had enough. Today was going to be the day she forgot about him and got on with her life. She’d wasted the best part of three years and she was going to change that now.
Not that the 1,095 ¾ days she had spent thinking about him had been all bad. Some of these days involved the two of them climaxing together and then holding each other’s naked bodies in each other’s arms and planting kisses on their faces. Some of the days involved coming to terms with not seeing him that evening, only for him to change his mind and be waiting at the station when she got off the train from work.
But then others were full of tears. Tears when they said goodbye for “the last time” (there would be lots of these). Tears when she found beard hair in her sink, months after he had left. Tears when she was sure they were back on after a beautiful, sensual sexy moment down an alleyway after cocktails. More tears when he ruined the fantasy. When he said he was staying with the new girl.
But today was the day. Today! She was excited. She had been waiting for the day. She no longer wanted to cling at the hope of reconciliation. No longer wanted to send him messages late at night after crying over their lost love. So she put on her favourite frock, did her hair extra nicely and headed out.
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