Passing the Buck

I have written previously about what not to do in a relationship break up. I preached maturity, dignity and forward thinking. I counselled against obsessiveness, abuse and destructive behaviour.

Well here’s a not-unexpected confession. I follow none of my own advice. So today I think I take a leaf from the Catholic method and give you a little honesty in the hope it absolves me of my past indiscretions and stops me from doing the same next time.

The particular story I wish to tell does not spur so much from a break up, but rather a cessation of potential. Let us cast our minds back to 2005 as I tell you this tale...

This particular man and I had been progressing along at a consistent pace through the requisite stages of getting to know and increasing intimacy. I had deliberately sought to take things quite slowly, however after three months we were at that precipice where things needed definition, and procedures needed to be established.


This need existed as an obscenely large elephant in the room, neither of us willing to venture there. I was quite prepared to continue ignoring Dumbo and enjoy the good times, however this man changed entirely, suddenly growing distant, cold and displaying complete personality changes from an incredibly charming, loving person to a brittle, unapproachable individual.

Needless to say, the ‘relationship’ ended when he decided he ‘wasn’t looking for anything serious’ (yet assumed I was ?!?!) and I was understandably confused and upset.

However, he stated as calling it off, “A, you are seriously the most amazing girl I have ever met”, and hence I decided to maintain the moral high ground and act only with decorum.

Hence my vents, rants and raves were burdened upon my beautiful friends, who were more than happy to listen, agree and even make voodoo dolls.


However it seems they could take only so much. After 7 days of spiteful speak, imbued with the spirit of gin, two of my absolutely darling friends decided it was time to exact revenge. Hidden from sight in one of the sin-booths of Q Bar, my two friends unleashed a barrage of insults to the voicemail of said gentleman.

My favourite moment in their retelling of events: the moment they realised they had failed to put their phone on private….

“Oh shit, this isn’t on private is it? Crap, ok. Let’s hang up, put it on private and call back. Then he won’t know who it is. Heh heh heh.”

You have to love drunken logic…. (*sidenote, what is even more concerning is that the very same thing happened to me not so long ago in entirely different circumstances. We are supposed to learn from mistakes? Well... putting your phone on private, yes.*)

Another strangely therapeutic activity when processing a break up for me seems to be substituting the name of my ex into The Rapture’s song No Sex For Ben. For all those who do not know, here it is:

I defy anyone not to feel empowered crumping and shouting away at 2am to this track, damning their ex to a sexless existence…. Trash people? Not me.


These strange break-up behaviours made me realise how much we all rely on our friends. Not only in times of relationship peril, but at all stages. Whether as wing (wo)man, sounding board, confidante, abuser or fellow egg-thrower, our friends are integral within our relationship, performing the tasks we are unable to ourselves.

Or unwilling….

Case in point: myself.

You may or may not have noticed that I am a fan of a certain musician. I have been to a few of his gigs and am personally too afraid to speak to him, lest I lose my words and look like, well, a dumb blonde.

So on two separate occasions, my fantastic buddies took the buck for me and initiated conversation, whilst I stood there, too sober to partake. My friends continued the discussion, initiated some photo-taking and even handed over my number.

That is truly what friends are for…. Humiliating themselves for others.

I promise I am quite willing to do the same for them… as soon as I get the chance (or they let me).

Jealousy, look what it's done to me...

*thanks Sparkadia for my title*

My recent posts have all been concerned about the presence of the ex-girlfriend and her place in the future relationship. Apparently this is keeping my grey matter stimulated, and my paranoia rolling on.

However, like my stalking ways I feel safe in the knowledge that I am not alone in my ex fixation. This subject has been addressed my many a film, novel, song and blog post so anything I write is sure to be far from original.

So I offer you some anecdotes from my disastrous experiences, as well as tales from my nearest and dearest.

Perhaps my favourite story is that of a very favourite friend of mine. Many years ago now, she began a relationship with a dashing young lad. Just 18, my friend understandably had little in the way of serious relationship experience. Her beau however, had previously been in a semi-long term relationship which drew to a messy end months prior to their dalliance beginning.

However despite relationship conclusion, this ex would not leave, and to dabble in colloquialism, seemed perfectly prepared to hang around like a bad smell. After months of less than coincidental chance meetings, friendly texts and generally making her presence known to my friend, my lovely mate resorted to dirty tactics.

She brought me in. It seems that the crazy ex had found a new tactic- by attaching herself to her ex-boyfriends’ best friends, she had found a way to maintain significant threat to my lovely friends’ psyche.

My mission: to flirt with the boyfriends’ best friend, therefore detracting from Crazy’s attempts to successfully elicit coupling from best friend.

It seems that when issues with a mission, my perfectionist nature emerges. I performed this task with aplomb. The best friend and I hit it off, and spent the evening flirtatiously discussing Wallabies line-ups and swapping Anchorman quotes (*so 2004*).

Three years later, we were still in a very loving relationship. However all good things must come to an end, and that end is the subject of another story.

The moral of this tale: People will do desperate things to attempt to obviate the ex issue (or just be hilariously spiteful… fantastic).

For me in another relationship, the jealousy was not of an ex-girlfriend, but of the ‘bromance’ that occupied his time prior to our relationship.


This particular gentleman had a very close circle of friends, fantastic in their rich and diverse passions, interests and talents. This is something immensely attractive to me in a potential partner, as there is something to be said for his friends beyond more than dirty stoner musicians, or drunken rugby louts.

However unique to this circle of friends was their specific gender. Every single individual was male and had been in this intensely polygamous relationship for many years and it seemed to be a tough nut to crack.

Nonetheless I was confident in my abilities. I am typically a ‘guys girl’. I can discuss rugby, music, cricket, motorbike racing, politics, terminator films and most topics as well as any man. However in this instance I was overconfident. This group was impenetrable.

My imagined visions of fusions of friendship circles enjoying gigs, days in the sun drinking gin and summer parties dancing in the rain would never be realised. Alas we were destined to attend the same gigs, but maintain opposing quarters.

I soon came to see I could never occupy Number One position in this mans’ heart. His loyalties were an all male affair.

Similarly, another attraction to a somewhat successful musician had me begrudging tour dates, recording obligations and other women deploying the weapons of cleavage, short skirts and slutty behaviour to attempt to derail me.


All in all, it seems the ex factor is not so much about the person, but our own jealousies. Jealousy is certainly a bitter little pill poisoning relationships, but its focus is not limited to previous partners. If in fact it was, this would be a blissful state of affairs. After all, the ex is exactly that-ex. The relationship ended, no doubt for good reason and she is left in the cold, whilst he shares his bed with you.

It’s the friends, the career, the family and everything else which is going nowhere you have to worry about.