24 April 2018

We 'Break-Up' in the End (Part 1)

This isn't how I thought I was ending this series. This isn't the end, but it's definitely the beginning of the end. I want to begin with an apology. Firstly to you, as the reader, but mostly to myself. 
Before you read this post, you have a lot of other reading to do. Before you read any further, you need to read these three posts (it's worth it, I promise).
My First Kiss on Valentine's Day at 19-Years-Old
My First Kiss (Follow-Up) + Heartbreak
My Personal Story of Teenage Heartbreak (Part 1)
My Personal Story of Teenage Heartbreak (Part 2)
My Personal Story of Teenage Heartbreak (Part 3)
My Personal Story of Teenage Heartbreak (Part 4)

Firstly, I want to apologise for being a crappy blogger recently, even though that's okay sometimes which I wrote about hereI'm so proud of this space which is supported by hundreds of strangers but only in the most literal definition of the word. You aren't really strangers to me. Okay, fine, if I ever passed most of you on Oxford street or sat next to you on the tube, I probably wouldn't know you from a bar of soap. But, you know intimate details about things in my life which people I see every day and who I call 'friends' don't even know. That doesn't make you a stranger. Some of you come and go and never leave a trace. Others have been around, openly, since very early on. So, to the readers who have been around for days or what feels like decades, I'm sorry that my posts in the last few months have been on one topic and one topic alone. And, I'm sorry that the scheduling and updating of the story was lagging and never up to date.  Life didn't catch up with me. That's an excuse. I fell out of blogging for a moment. 

"I feel the intense need to apologise to myself."

Secondly, I'm not quite sure why I have this feeling but I feel the intense need to apologise to myself. Maybe that'll become apparent in the words which will flow after I end this paragraph and in the posts that are to follow. But, I feel an intense need to just say "sorry Steph". I'm not going to try rationalise the thinking behind that. I'm just going to go with it. So, with that out the way. Here's the last part of the story:

Do you wanna know something funny? I was originally going to title this whole series 'We Break up In the End' which I thought was very Taylor Swift-like of me. But, then I remembered a thing called SEO and opted for the title 'My Personal Story of Teenage Heartbreak". There's nothing hilarious about this...so, let me tell you what's so funny; I came up with this title after the first post in the series, when I was still very much talking to Julian and still very much 'in like' with him. I think it may have been just after our first kiss. Even then, I saw the heartbreak that was coming my way off in the distance. Don't worry. I didn't love him- lucky me- I knew I didn't all along, but I definitely liked him and enjoyed his company. However, back to my point: I included the word 'heartbreak' way before my heart was broken which makes me think that I saw it coming all along...but that didn't stop me.

After I left Julian outside the library, we continued texting. We texted the whole day, and the day after that, and the day that followed after. We went on texting, as usual. At some point he asked me if I was going to the Rave Cave on Friday night. The Rave Cave is a grungy house which screams "student house". It's in need of long overdue repairs. The above-ground levels of the house look liveable. It has everything you need. Below ground is where things get grungier, although you'd think that wasn't possible. But, that's definitely where the fun happens. It's essentially a basement that turns into students' dream house party on the last day of each term of uni. Hence, the name, The Rave Cave. I'd been once before, at the end of December when the last term of uni ended... and I spent a good part of my night chatting away and dodging Julian's advances...but that's a whole other story which precursors Valentine's Day, when I had my first kiss with him. So, I guess you could call me a seasoned 'Rave Caver'. I responded to his text saying that I didn't even know that it was happening and that I usually just ended up at these kinds of parties and that this on would probably be no different. Although, I was wrong. I knew he was going to be there. That was different. The Sunday between our morning coffee date which I wrote about here and the Friday when I would next see him passed as usual- with us texting.

"My eyes kept averting towards the entrance of the 'cave', like a twitch, watching to see when Julian would arrive."

Friday night rolled around and I was in the depths of the thud thud thud of the EDM (electronic dance music) that was playing. My eyes kept averting towards the entrance of the 'cave', like a twitch, watching to see when Julian would arrive. He didn't, so I left the darkness of the cave and was met with the darkness of midnight and the gentle mist of the constant British rain that I've become so accustomed to. There were so many people, either high or drunk (and possible both) which had toppled beyond the barriers that the students who were hosting the party had the common sense to put-up and keep in the hoards of people, but that was to no avail. It was probably nearing 1am now, and I opted to give my feet a rest and plonked myself on a couch that had lost a coil or three and was ripped in more places than I could count, but I sat anyways.

At some point, with my eyes still on high alert to spot Julian, I finally saw him. He was wearing the same red knitted jersey (or jumper as they say in the UK) that I'd seen him wear before. But, I can't quite recall where or when. Anyways, I saw him heading out of the upstairs of the house, down the metal stairs and into the 'cave'. I had just come out of there and had zero intentions of going back in, so I stayed on the ripped couch, chatting to a stranger I'd just met with a group of my friends nearby.

"Half an hour later my phone vibrated. It was Julian."

Half an hour later my phone vibrated. It was Julian. The text said something along the lines of "Haven't seen you yet." I looked at it and slid the notification away. "He's been here
 for about an hour by now and only now was looking to find me", I thought. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I figure that if he really liked me, he would have tried to get hold of me earlier. His texting throughout the week and that day had also been getting on my nerves. He'd continuously go online and not respond to my texts- which made me feel less bad for ignoring his which I was doing increasingly.

I haven't mentioned this but the Rave Cave is in the same street as the student accommodation I call home. I can't rationalise this but I left the party. I walked out and went home. When I got back though, I figured that I should change out of the above-knee-length black dress I was wearing into something more comfortable. I opted for my baggy, maroon jogging pants and a purple puffy coat. I planned to take a walk back down the street and go tell Julian that whatever the hell was going on between us was over, or, as he later put it I was heading back to "cut ties".

SPOILER ALERT: I don't cut ties

Till next time-


  1. At this moment in time I don't know whether it would be better to cut ties or not with Julian, but I shall look forward to the next installment of this to see what you do and how it continues ^^

    Sophie | www.sophiesspot.co.uk

    1. Right! These were my thoughts at so many points. Do I cut ties do I not. I guess, ultimately, we got our answer!

  2. Replies
    1. Where's the fun in ending it in any other way!


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