Like a sum the mathematician cannot solve, like me trying my hardest to explain

As you might have gleaned from previous posts The Boy and I have been seeing each other again. Fireworks! Celebrations! Balloons! Champagne! Or not; despite the fact it has been my decision to take Mr Spineless (as one person called him) back for the 3rd time, it seems everyone has an opinion; albeit theirs is the only one that is right. Relationships, once you have been through at least one break up, seemingly become public property.

Everyone at some point has called their mate’s ex a bastard. These things are said without thinking, to make people feel better, to help them move on. Ridicule is common, his (or her) faults picked over, masculinity torn to shreds. At the end of a relationship there is always a bastard (or of course, a bitch)

But most of the time the person being called the name is not a bastard; Bastards cheat, bastards lie. Bastards do not sit you down and say ‘sorry I do not see a future right now’. Bastards are not honest about their feelings. Bastards do not walk away because they think it is the right thing to do – for you, for them, for the both of you.

I’ve always been a firm believer that you can’t judge a person unless you have walked a mile in their shoes (or spent time in their relationship). It’s easy to judge someone as they have hurt someone you love. But when they do something that whilst painful, is heartfelt, does not a bastard make.

It is easy to throw insults, it’s easy to sit on the fence and make a snap judgement. Yes, I might be naïve, but until he does something to deserve being called a bastard, I’m not calling him one.

and that my friends is why he’s had another chance.

Kx

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