My heart won't be your ragdoll anymore.

“I don’t really know what you were trying to prove last night Mark. I would say you ruined my night but if I’m honest it really was the clarification I needed to realise how much of an arse you actually are. If your aim was to stop me from even attempting to be your friend then congratulations! I really thought we’d moved on from all this bitter bullshit but obviously you haven’t; so I’ll do us both a favour and try my very best to act like I don’t know, since you clearly don’t know how to function if we don’t hate or love each other” I took a brief breath of relief and waited for a reply. 
 

“I like it, very powerful”

“Thank you, so… send?”

“Oh no, no way in hell should you send that”

“Why not?!” I asked aggressively, slightly offended that they weren’t agreeing with me, “it’s good!”

“It is good… and it will make him feel like shit…”

“But..?”

“What did he ACTUALLY do though, really?” I jumped to defend my accusation, but instead paused and let out a disappointed sigh.

“Nothing. He didn’t actually do anything” I looked down at the floor, defeated and confused.

“Exactly” said my friend, who had suddenly decided to become Devil’s Advocate rather than doing the appropriate thing and support my ideas, “all Mark really did was see you at the union, then sent you some texts that messed with your head simply because he’s a twat and was bored. Come to think of it, it was probably because he hadn’t made any friends”

“He was basically own his own whenever I saw him” I stopped angrily typing insults and put my phone down the kitchen counter, picking up a glass of wine to replace it. 

“Exactly. Plus, think about it; if he replies it won’t be the apology you’re looking for, it will be something juvenile and bitchy like just replying ‘k’ and then you will kick off” I do get really pissed off when people say ‘k’ in reply to an emotional outburst, “and if he doesn’t reply at all, you will be stuck to your phone for the next few weeks until you finally send the evitable drunk ‘you’re a cunt’ text” it’s true; I would.

“Urgh, I hate it when you’re right”

“And turn the bloody depressing music off, you look suicidal” Pouting, I changed the song from Maroon 5’s ‘Ragdoll’ flicking through shuffle on my iPod trying to find a song to ease me into cheerfulness.

You are not what you seem, you are a mystery to me, sometimes I just wanna scream.

“I suppose it would make things even worse than they already are when we both come home for Christmas” I was slowly coming round to Advocate’s way of thinking, “I’m fairly sure I’ll have shaken the need to knock his lights out by then” I walked into the pantry, phone in one hand, empty glass in the other looking for more wine when my phone buzzed.

“Low battery, brilliant” on autopilot I clicked onto to my inbox and scrolled down the texts Mark sent me that evening; varying from ‘nice top’ to ‘don’t worry I don’t count you, I’d rather make myself out to be inexperienced than tell people we had sex’ to ‘I’m texting you because it’s fun’.

I still feel like I really REALLY need to have that final showdown with him, where I finally say all those things that ive wanted to say for a very long year.

But for now?

DELETE CONTACT?

Fuck yes.

My heart won’t be your ragdoll anymore.

xAx