Chloe Lamb: Professional Dumper

Hello. Wow. Truly, where to start? I've just broken up with someone, which in the context of my historic professional dumpee label, is major. Pull up a pew. Let's chat.

I have been dating this man since October. Feel like I could get in trouble for this, but he is called Will, which is funny in the context of previous men I've dated. I would say which # Will he is, but I don't want to scare off my next boyfriend, who will likely also be called Will.

Anyway, our relationship felt so different to my previous ones, so easy, so natural. It didn't bother me that he thought bipolar was a choice. Honestly it was almost refreshing?! Someone for whom mental health is so far from their sphere of existence. A fresh perspective!

Yes... those were the lies I told myself. Amusing in hindsight. But he was so tall and strong... and those eyes...

BAD. NAUGHTY. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

We've just been on holiday to Spain for a week. Friends laughed 'it'll be make or break!'. I would laugh back with a heavy feeling in my chest knowing how right they were. I was lying in bed the night before we flew and I remember thinking "I don't want to be in a relationship with this man". This may have been to do with the Easter egg debacle that had climaxed (Chloe don't say climax) earlier that day. Let me explain:

Weeks ago we had a conversation where I said I wanted to do Easter eggs. Despite slight feet dragging, he agreed. I knew he'd forget so I sent a nudge the week before, disguised as "just got your Easter egg. Difficult choice but I think I've done well". What did I get back? "Easter egg? It's fine you can have it". Can you imagine my rage?

After a semi-stern talking to (not too stern though - had to keep up the perfect relaxed girlfriend act!), he backtracked and said he would bring one.

Fast forward 2 weeks and he arrives with... a Milky Way egg.

MILKY WAY

FUCKING MILKY WAY

I was utterly insulted. I truly think that is the worst one he could have chosen. He played it well though - he looked into my eyes and said "I love Milky Bar. Yum yum", so I COULDN'T COMMENT. For anyone interested in the character arc of the Easter egg, I sent Daisy back to London with it and she gave it to a homeless man.

Anyway, the holiday was tricky. On our first night in this gorgeous Airbnb, we looked upstairs, doing a recce. It was clear now that this was an appropriate time to consummate the holiday. I thought, 'surely he will now throw me on this bed'. Instead, he walked downstairs. I followed to see him opening a packet of crisps. Am I really that crap a shag that he would rather EAT CRISPS?

The week was a trying combination of suppressing my reactions and hurt, and feigning joy and whimsy. Trying not to rise to any of his jabs. Trying not to take the fact he wouldn't touch me in public personally. Trying not to get frustrated at the repeated instances of him just not listening, or misremembering bits of my life - this man found out I wasn't 23 on day four of our holiday together. Wild. Doing my best to make sure practical things (moving Airbnb, finding parking at supermarkets, not falling up stairs) went smoothly following his comment that 'everything I touch goes wrong. It's not always your fault, but there's always a bump in the road with you'. I was doing my best not to break up with him out there as I didn't want it to turn sour. I was, however, really sad. Really exhausted by suppressing all the emotions I had. Slightly hoping that we'd sort it out, that his behaviour would be explained. Long story short, that didn't happen.

I did have a full English in Benidorm though which was AMAZING, I LOVE Benidorm.

MY HAPPY PLACE

So, anyway, let me tell you how I dumped him in excruciating detail. We parted ways (geographically, I mean) - him to Nottingham and me to Cornwall on the Friday. I had been toying with the idea of keeping it going until I could see him face to face. Then I decided he didn't deserve that. We parted ways (emotionally this time) the next day- I called him and said "this relationship isn't working and I don't want to be in it". He came in strong with "Yeah, I've been thinking this for a while". A predictable defence. I knew it was true though - he had been acting like he didn't even like being in the same room as me, so it wasn't a reach to see that he didn't want to be my boyfriend anymore. The conversation went on for about 7 minutes - we were both very calm, but equally neither of us wanted to hang up. It was uncomfortable. A few hours later I got a long text from him that left me confused. He was taking ownership, saying it was his fault, apologising, saying my outlook on life (which he had repeatedly ridiculed during our relationship) had inspired him, etc. All very strange. It pissed me off as it was easier to hate him and lean into the embarrassment and hurt. He was clearly reflecting and hurting in his own way, which made me want to give him a big HUG. Poor bubba! He's just a boy trying to get by in this crazy world. Ugh, being an empath is exhausting.

I have been so chic about all this. To him, at least. His comms have been spiky. Mine have been light-hearted and polite. I'm trying to exude 'I simply don't give a shit'. The rapidly depleting box of tissues by my bed would say otherwise.

The main takeaways are:

1. He is in the forces. Looking at the world, we are marching towards what feels like a fairly inevitable large-scale conflict. I have certain demands that year-long deployments would mess with. Someone to lock the back door, etc.

2. I can now fall back in love with my wardrobe and exclusively wear the frilly blouses with collars that he hated.

3. He would watch my handstands, but he didn't properly play mermaids with me, despite me bringing two pairs of goggles to Spain.

4. I no longer need to filter what I tell him and decide whether I can 'cope' with his shit reaction:

   1. Called him crying and stressed once. His response was 'just don't be stressed'.

5. Ultimately, I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't like gazpacho.

And guys, I DUMPED SOMEONE.