Sunday, 8 November 2015

The time my friend punched my ex in the face

The second time in my life I had ever invested too much of myself into a man was with Kay. "Like the letter", that's how he introduced himself. 
Kay was neither as good looking or as ambitious the guys I usually went for, but I didn't notice. At the time that meant absolutely nothing to me. Many friends had told me later that they had always thought him to be rather unattractive, but they didn't want to be rude and tell me at the time. It was odd however, almost as though in the back of my mind I had fully acknowledged that he wasn't that good looking, but I was completely blind to it. In the months that we were together he was the most beautiful thing to me. He was my first real experience of not being able to take my eyes off of somebody. I would gaze at him endlessly as though I were in some kind of shakespearean play. Tragedy, of course. 

Besides his looks, the other thing I didn't see until it was over was his arrogance. Kay was one of those guys one might typically refer to as a 'lad'. Nope, not a Jack the lad, more of what you would probably now refer to as a 'cheeky nandos' lad. He thought he was the bees knees. Literally, loved himself. Looking back now it's clear he was a bit of a dick, but after all that is my type. Tall, arrogant, arseholes. 

I was young, naive and at least close to hopelessly in love. For months we laughed, played, went on dates, got to know each other and had unbelievably mind-blowing sex. I fell hard almost instantly, and after several amazing months he cut me off, cold turkey. That's how it ended, no communication, no explanation, not even a 'see-ya!' 

A month after it was over, I bumped into him at a club. Neither of us were drunk, I could tell because I was sober. When he tapped me on the back, I looked up to see the most perfect imperfect face I’d ever known and with that one look I had forgotten completely that me and my friends had been plotting his death for the past month and let him walk me home. We walked home in the most friend-y way you could imagine. Of course that got me thinking.. 'so we can be friends? Are we friends now? That could work. I can do friends' When we got to my door I went to hug him goodbye and thank him for walking me home when he went in for a kiss. Being so insanely infatuated by this boy who was I to say no. I knew he was trouble but I couldn't resist his imperfect lips. Of course he said he'd text and he never did. Same story, different dickhead.

Fast forward four more months to a ball. Yes ball, as in Cinderella. I knew a lot of people there, old friends, new friends, even the first boy I ever dated was there. In such a small town it's hard to not bump into several people you know on any given occasion. Dressed to the nines I strutted around the old stately home with two of my closest friends. I was looking hot, feeling hot and nothing, I thought, absolutely nothing could make this moment any less wonderful. And that's when I saw him. Suited, booted and still after all this time, even after he'd left me in full on Bridget Jones 'all by myself' mode, beautiful. My heart sunk. My friends must have clocked his presence straight away as just as soon as I had seen him I felt a viscous tug on my left shoulder. 

"Don't you dare go and talk to him. You know it's not worth it."

I paused to consider what she was saying for a brief moment before my own thoughts came creeping in overtaking all logic. 'It wasn't that bad' I thought. 'What he did really wasn't that bad'. So naturally I disobeyed my friend's wise warning and went over to talk to him, not knowing whether or not I would get shat on once again. We caught up for a few moments, talking about our jobs, our mutual friends and our short-term future plans. Turns out in the five months we'd been apart he had sorted out a Visa and was going away to live in America, something he'd talked about a lot when we were dating but I didn't think he'd actually ever do. In such a little town where people rarely leave, it was odd to see the least ambitious guy I knew actually make it out.

He had glanced over my shoulder several times during our conversation yet I hadn't thought to wonder why. "Why do your friends hate me so much?" he said. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. I turned around to see the two most sour faces I had ever laid eyes upon. "Just ignore them they'll go away" I said quite spitefullySomething about that boy bought out the worst in me. Thinking about it so does Vodka, which I had quite a bit of that night. Of course despite my wishful thinking that my friends would eventually depart and leave me to it, they didn't, but in my hazy vodka and lust fuelled state I soon forgot about them, and mine and Kay's past, and that was it for me. That was all I needed. I went in for it, the kiss. I like to think it was at precisely 12 midnight, as that's when the spell broke. I felt another tug on my shoulder from the same friend but this time it was harder, less of a tug in fact and more of a pull. 


That's when it  happened. My friend, in her own vodka fuelled state had taken it upon herself to punch Kay, right in the face. Well, at least she had the intention of punching him in the face but he was 6'5 and she was 5'4 so she just about managed to narrowly graze his chin. I sobered up right then and there and caused one of the most prolific arguments in ball history. I screamed at her. I was so upset in that moment I actually recall telling her to leave, to which I like to think she said "who made you the queen of the ball!" but I think it was more like "okay fine". 

Following her leaving I was quite obviously very upset. I was upset that she would do something like that to Kay. No matter how much of a dick he was, he didn't deserve to (almost) get punched in the face. I was embarrassed. All of his friends were there and I knew that rumours would fly. I'm generally a very chill person, there was no need for word on the street that if you date me you're going to have to handle my psycho friend. I was upset that I made her leave, I felt that although my night was pretty much ruined I shouldn't have ruined it forms all. 

An hour later I received a text from Kay. "Your friend's fucking mental, how she gonna hit me for no reason, tell her from me she better wish there's no mark left tomorrow because if there is I'm getting her reported". 

That my friend, was the second sobering event of the night. Where was the 'are you okay, you seemed pretty upset' or even just 'please explain to me what just happened'. Nope. My friend's utterly poor and drunken attempt of whacking young Kay (fyi, definitely didn't even leave a scratch..) made him consider.. reporting her? Because god forbid a dent may brace his oh so perfect face. Turns out I went to the ball and kissed a frog. He didn't turn into a prince like the story would have you believe. Just a wanker. The only thing my friend really slapped that night was me, straight out of my delusion. 

I'm pretty sure you can guess what happened next. I apologised and no response. Ever. 

Now don't get me wrong, I am not at all condoning what she did at all. Physical violence is absolutely never the answer and I was completely embarrassed about the whole thing for at least a week after. However I look back on the entire situation now with a light heart. The way he treated me was only really soul destroying for a month or so.. I got over it pretty quick. If you were wondering about the friend that did the punching.. well  we're just as good friends now as we ever have been, even got her to read over this post before I published it (she thinks the whole thing was rather hilarious!)

So there we have it, the (rather long, sorry!) recollection of the time my friend punched my ex in the face. Hope you enjoyed it!

Belle x

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