No good comes from cyberstalking an ex.
Everyone knows this. I’ve learnt the hard way and yet like any addict, it didn’t stop me listening to the devil on my shoulder last night when I typed his name into the search field of Facebook.
It all started with some harmless chat with an old friend. I’ve been slowly re-connecting with friends in London ready for my big move next March. We don’t chat often but it was like I’d never been away. Banter flying left and right, catching up, making plans and reminiscing. It was fun. Then out of the blue:
“How ironic that you split up because he wanted to move home, and now you’re the one moving back. Maybe you should try hunt him down…maybe it’s fate!”
She always was a soppy romantic. It was more than that that broke us.
And…yet I wondered. I hadn’t so much as thought about him in months. I know I’m better off without him, without his tantrums and put downs. I don’t want him back and so that’s why I thought a little googling would be harmless…I wondered where he’d ended up. Surely he’d be forever a loser.
Within minutes, I was face to face with a picture that floored me. Him, a woman and an unmistakable baby bump. He’s having a baby!
Why – when I’m a good, kind person – does he get the happy ever after, while I get family stress, financial aggro and struggle on alone? Was I so evil in previous life that this one is filled with punishment. Am I destined to be alone for ever?
After 12 hours of pity party, an emergency phone call to the bestie and a KFC dip bucket, it’s the kick up the bum I needed. Time to move on once and for all. Time to hit the gym and sort myself out, ready to put my best foot forward when I return to London Town.
Anyone know a good gym program I can follow? Preferably app based?
Maybe good can come from cyberstalking. A new, motivated me.