A lost post

OK, so this was a post I was working on whilst I was on the train from Kings Cross to York.

“Well, I'm having to type one handed with my screen at a weird, backwards angle, but I'm still managing to come to you live from a train bound for York. Why, you might ask, am I going to York? Well, I'll tell you. I'm off to a Stag Weekend. One of my friends is getting married in a couple of weeks. Oddly enough, it's only the second wedding of one of my Uni mates that I’m attending.

Anyway, it's been a little more than a week since my last post[meaning the post about the break up email], and I've calmed down an awful lot. In truth, as soon as I hit the “publish” button all the bitterness and vitriol drained away. To be honest, and you may have guessed this from my last post, I really wasn't all that in to her. She was fun to go out with, sure, but we were far too different for there to be any real future in it. Actually, to tell you the truth, a lot of what I wrote was sort of designed to make me look a little more wronged than I actually was. I'd had a fair few thoughts about calling it off with her in the preceding couple of weeks before I received her email. Actually, I know that I made a bit of a big deal about being broken up with via email. A lot of people, could, made mention of the fact that it was quite a bad thing, and, at the time, I agreed. In actual fact, it didn’t bother me all that much.

I can't type on the train, it's too cramped. I'll have to wait until I get to the station to finish.”

Of course, I didn’t get round to finishing it. I ended up in a pub called “The Maltings”, reading “Dawn of the Dumb” by Charlie Brooker whilst I waited for one of my friends to arrive on the 4pm train.

As a little post script to all that, this girl and I have been trading emails for the last couple of weeks, so I guess everything’s cool there. She’d suggested meeting up again as friends, and, for the record, I think she’s pretty sincere. Like I said, in itself, it wasn’t a big thing, but I think that it has had some sort of effect on me, deep down. Ultimately, whilst I really do think that it was a good idea to stop seeing her, it’s possible that, in a far more general sense, things not working out affected me more than I realised.