Our Story- It’s not me, it’s you…

The last installment of the story was a happy ending for a change! Unfortunately it all goes a bit down hill as you can probably guess from the title! If you haven’t read the series so far why not have a cuppa and catch up! Meanwhile I will carry on with the story..

love story

So we left the story with Mr F telling me (through the medium of a novelty gift) that he loved me! Woo hoo!!! After all of the heartbreak it seemed as though I was going to get my happy ever after. Unfortunately real life doesn’t work like that (damn you Cinderella for making me believe so!)

On the surface everything seemed fine, we spent all of our time together – in lectures, at dinner, nights out. We were the perfect couple! I loved him and he loved me. This happy scenario lasted a good while, I am talking just over a year of bliss. We survived the summer holidays, met up in London loads and look- we have even entered the world of digital cameras so I can share some photos!! Ha!

n701150721_126343_9673Check me out with a camera phone too! Thought I was so cool!

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So fast forward to the spring of our 3rd year at university. We were still living in halls- couldn’t get enough of it. Honestly, the best halls ever, nobody ever wanted to leave!! I had a MASSIVE room (the building was an old mental hospital and I had a ward room!) and so seeing as Mr F had been put into what can only be described as a cupboard, he moved in with me on the sly. We wheeled his bed into mine and made a massive double. Perfect.

Looking back I can certainly see where it all went wrong. I had been so used to being rejected that I needed constant reassurance that he loved me. I would ask him ‘do you love me?’ so often as I just needed to hear that he did. I had also become super clingy, I had given up all of my friends, choosing to spend every second with him instead. So when he wanted to see some of his friends I would have nothing to do and would ultimately make him feel guilty.

A week before Valentine’s day I had become so insecure that ‘do you love me?’ had become ‘you don’t love me do you?’. Even writing it makes me cringe!!! Honestly I just want to get into a time machine and go slap myself!! So there we are one night, laying in bed and I say it one last time. ‘You don’t love me do you?’ He just looked at me and replied ‘I don’t think I do anymore’.

At 3am he took his mattress back to his own room. Leaving me behind in absolute disbelief, sobbing into my pillow. I had ruined it. Silly silly girl.

 Come back soon for the next part of the story ‘Starting again

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Katy is a wife, mum of three and professional blogger. Her blog, What Katy Said, aims to inspire other mums to get organised and make the best out of every day.

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