Taking A Dump

I had to end a relationship recently. I'm not very good at the whole dumping process because I always worry that the person is going to take it so personally, and it's never because that person is without merit, and it's never because the feelings I felt previously no longer really apply. I will still feel that that person is as smart, funny, interesting and attractive as I felt they were when we first met, but, for whatever reason a relationship wasn't working for me.

One of my friends recently had a relationship end as well, he was on the receiving end of the dumpage, and his current state of mind seems very similar to how I felt when a long term relationship came to a slow, trundling, painful end in 2007. Except in that instance, I was the one responsible for the end of things.

I've been wondering, since having to do the dumping, about the perceptions of the act, and whether it's worse to be the dumper or the dumpee. It does all depend on how you feel about the person, but I'm savvy enough to generally date people that I care about and so having to end a relationship with them isn't exactly my idea of fun.

For me, it's a rather awkward, difficult and painful process and I feel a lot of remorse and guilt about it afterwards. I almost feel like I shouldn't dump someone who still feels that the relationship is working, that I should plough on and try and make it work, but, what if it never works? Maybe they'll be happy, but how much time should I put into trying to fix things especially if the 'things' are a general feeling of it not being quite right?

Are there concrete and valid reasons to ever dump someone? Y'know, beyond; "You slept with my mum at my birthday party." or "You used my pet hamster as a football." Do you really need a concrete reason to end a relationship? I guess that depends on how long the relationship has gone on for, but, regardless, it's not going to feel like much of a reason to the dumpee.

I've been dumped a fair few times, the first one that sticks out in my memory was a girl who was a few years older than me, I had recently finished my A-Levels and she had recently finished University. One day she came round and ended things, I asked for a reason, she said "Gut instinct." Fair enough.

A week or two went by and we got back together, but, it didn't last much longer and this time I was the one ending things. When she asked for a reason I tried my best to explain myself and all the things I felt (which, unfortunately for the sake of this article, I've forgotten), but she told me my reasons were rubbish.

But, rubbish reasons or not, you can't force a relationship to continue.




More recently I found out that a girlfriend wanted to end things with me when she sent me a text intended for someone else by accident. Karmically this felt justified, because I had done a similar thing in the past. I was just a bit miffed to find out that they had felt unhappy in the relationship for 'a couple of months'. How long are you supposed to trudge along hoping something is going to miraculously improve? A sense of malaise will only autonomously produce more malaise.

I accepted that there was nothing that could be done, and that if that's how they felt, and had felt for a while, it probably wasn't worth the effort to try and repair the relationship. It would have been like putting a sticking plaster over a gaping axe wound, maybe, for a little while things would have been ok, but pretty soon your guts would fall out... metaphorically.

Selfishly, with some break-ups, I have worried about how I am being portrayed by the dumpee to their friends and acquaintances, sometimes these are people I have known as well, irrespective of the relationship. Knowing the 'full facts' I can't help but feel pangs of annoyance that they might be skewed in order to cast my ex in a better light, that she might have the opportunity to distort the story to only reflect her side of things and those she tells, being naturally supportive, will agree that I am a massive douchebag. Which is true, but still...

Obviously, this is fair, when a relationship ends you want your friends to be on your side regardless of whether you were the dumper or the dumpee. Though it is interesting to find out, after you break up with someone, how your friends have actually felt about you and your ex all along. I've had it revealed to me in the past that people haven't really liked some of my exes. I've also been told that some of my girlfriend's parents didn't like me and I'm sure plenty of friends of girlfriends haven't liked me either.

But, really, regardless of what others think, a relationship is about that connection between two people and to a large extent it shouldn't matter what others think about a couple unless it's something along the lines of: "I think I saw your girlfriend on Crimewatch yesterday."



"It's not you, it's me."


So, when someone wants to end a relationship of course you're going to take it very personally, because it's not about outside forces, it's about your opinion of one person. However, sometimes you realise you just don't want to be in a relationship with someone, it's a cliche to say 'We can still be friends!' but it's something I genuinely mean (and if I don't mean it, I won't say it), and in a few instances people I began seeing in one way I am now good friends with. So yeah, in your face When Harry Met Sally.

Of course, it's easier to be friends if the feelings behind the break-up are quite mutual, or, if the relationship was in the very, very early stages, y'know, where you're just dipping your toe in the water to see if it's hot or cold... that's not a euphemism for anything kinky.

For me, it's quite to difficult to know if I'm just being impetuous and fickle, or if I'm struggling to really get over things from the past. In talking to my recently dumped friend I don't think I've been particularly encouraging in my post-break-up advice, especially as I feel he's in a similar state of mind as I was when a relationship ended a while ago, and it took me a very long time to get to a point where I felt like I was moving on, and, to be honest, it's something I don't think I'll ever get over completely, and that's not a slight on anyone else I may meet after that, and it's not a bar that people have to meet or vault over, but, it's a feeling in the past, you can't erase your past and there's no reason why you should, as long as it isn't crippling you in your present.

I think that's something that people forget and fret over, they worry how they might compare to someone else, or they worry about what the person they are with might think about them, and other such neuroses, but, you have to try and leave those worries behind and enjoy the moment as much as you can.

Yet when someone breaks up with you all those worries come back up to the surface, and you analyse yourself, you think about all the things you must have done wrong, but, for the most part, you probably didn't do anything wrong.

The Dumbest Concept In Dating

Firstly, I joined a dating website, out of boredom at work I registered for a free account, curious to see what type of person haunts the halls of online dating malarkey. I figured, if I'm looking at this website then someone with a similar outlook to me might be looking at it too.

Furthermore, I've never quite understood the whole tawdry reputation afforded to any organised means of meeting other people. Because, of course, the whole process of getting drunk, going to a bar and pulling one of an assortment of, say, 50 strangers, is far more noble and romantic, just like how Shakespeare wrote it.

But this leads me neatly onto my key point, which is to do with the dumbest concept in the dating world, and that is: the 'spark'.

This 'spark' is bothering me at the moment because I went on a date last night, it was somewhat hastily arranged, we'd exchanged messages online, we didn't seem to offend one another, besides it's always best to meet up and banter in person to really understand if you get along. So, we did that, after a bit of a wait in the cold she arrived, we walked to a bar, we had a drink, we had a chat.

Like many first dates (arranged by friends or online) it was a collection of awkward moments, chatty epochs, brief summaries of complex aspects of your life, efforts to advertise your own personally preferred qualities and mask the less reputable ones, it was, by my reckoning, an ok first date. Nothing special, but it was pleasant.

However, I sent a message to her the following day suggesting a possible event for a second date, and in return received a message that said thus:

"Thanks Owain. It was really nice to meet you too. I like your job and your brilliant free tickets and plus ones. :) I'm afraid though that I didn't feel the spark between us last night, and I hope that's ok..."

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm Captain Charming and no woman can resist my advances, I know I'm a socially awkward, waffling, rambly fool with a slightly wayward and confused sense of humour, but I'm sure I have some good qualities too... I mean, people have said nice things about me, some of them even let me kiss them and hold their hand for a few months. I, of course, get that maybe she just used the catch all concept of 'sparks' as an excuse for some other reasoning as to why she might not want to meet me again, but, what would that be? Am I a deeply repellent individual? Surely, regardless of whether 'sparks' was the exact concept what she is, in some way or another, referring to must broadly be described as 'chemistry', and, as far as I can fathom, 'chemistry' and 'sparks' are very close relatives, it's about that initial catalyst that would suggest two people get along.

Yes, I admit, maybe we didn't get along, but I don't think I'd be blinkered enough to not notice, I felt foolishly optimistic on my way home from the date, I didn't think it had been a roaring success but that's because it was a first date, they're awkward and strange for the most part. It's two people finding their way around one another, trying to figure each other out, maybe you won't hit it out of the park on that first date, but unless you utterly despise one another should you discount a second date because there weren't any 'sparks'? Is life really too short to not give someone a second chance?

Maybe you've felt the 'spark', I've certainly felt the 'spark' in the past, but for the most part, as best I can remember, when I felt that first 'spark' I was drunk. Besides it's probably bad form to arrive to a first date already pissed. Though maybe that is the solution? Arrange a date, both get absolutely rat arsed beforehand, then you meet in some bar somewhere, it's closer to how it's 'supposed' to happen then.

I'm not saying this girl was definitely, undoubtedly going to be the love of my life (that's another blog topic right there) but I think there was enough between to us to at the very least warrant a second date, in fact, I think all arranged dates should come with an in-built second date, the first date, if anything, is the prologue and the second date is actually Chapter One. You've got the ground rules and geography and family history established, then it's time to really get into the meat and potatoes of it and see if you have that 'spark'.

A date is different to meeting someone by chance, this is something that I don't quite think people understand, and I also think it's where this bizarre grotty image of 'dating sites' comes from. For the most part, for some insane reason, in much the same way as millions of people think an invisible bearded man built the Earth in a Gregorian calendar week, people seem to view love as something that happens by magic, by chance and will bind two people together in a fairytale fantasy, well, that's all bullshit to be honest, and this isn't some mean, jaded cynical side, I genuinely think I'm a pretty romantically minded optimistic fool (though I'm pretty sure my ex-girlfriends will say otherwise), and though I've been in love I've never thought "there's only one for me", because I've been in love more than once and in different ways. You don't discredit an ex you said you loved because you're not together anymore, or you love somebody new, that's not how it works, though opinions can change over time those moments when you were in 'love' were, whether you now regret it or not, moments when you were in 'love' and perspective won't change that. I don't think because my parents are now divorced and in new relationships that they wish they'd never met, and not just because of the lovely children they had as a result of 'love' and 'fate' and all that nonsense.

Anyway, I'm veering off topic, and would gladly blather on trying to disect every aspect of people's perceptions of romance, love, happiness, sadness and the like for pages and pages, but I don't think now is the time or the place.

In summary, people have a warped perspective of what meeting someone and 'falling' for them is supposed to be like, the world is changing, it is more intricately connected than ever before and the opportunities to meet a diverse range of people are more accessible than they have ever been, why not take advantage of this if you are in a position to meet new people. I did not join a dating website to 'meet the love of my life', I joined it to 'meet new people', which, I hasten to add, is something I also manage to do in my non-internet based life. Maybe other people don't see things that way with the dating world, which is naive on their part, additionally I find anyone who starts making specific demands in the 'What I'm looking for...' section to be awfully suspect, but, well, waffling again...

Maybe this is why people don't want a second date, they don't think I'll ever shut up!


My good friend, the esteemed Ellen Waddell, has written a response to this piece, you can read it here: CLICKY

Why Christmas Trees Are A Lot Like Relationships...

Walking past a florist on my lunch break earlier I saw a lone, squat little Christmas tree for sale on the pavement. I suddenly thought to myself; "I'm going to buy that tree, take it back to the flat, decorate it and make everything there a bit more festive this year." Before quickly realising that I wasn't going to do any of this, I was merely momentarily enchanted by the idea of having a Christmas tree and the warm, cosy associations it has for me, and, probably, many of us.

As nights get colder, darker and lonelier I'm noticing them more and more, Christmas trees everywhere. Each window I walk by on my grey trek to and from the office is starting to become punctuated by the garish twinkle of fairylights entwined with tinsel and bright, brilliant baubles proudly hanging from ever more droopy branches.

Oh, it makes me yearn for a Christmas tree of my own.

Look, there they are, hundreds of them now, all gathered together waiting, their eager little limbs huddled around them in the cold winter air. It's best to hurry because by the time Christmas is almost upon us all those trees will be gone and you'll be hard pushed to find one at the last minute, and buying a plastic ones' a little sordid.

If you are lucky enough to have a Christmas tree then you've probably spent some time trying to find just the right one for you, but, you've also got to compromise depending on your front room situation. Once you get the tree home there's a lot of excitement and anticipation, sure, you've seen it bundled up outside, but once you've got the wrapping off it's a whole different thing, proud and green and perky, it's the best tree ever! Some people like to let it sit, teasingly, in its natural state for a few days before 'trimming' it, others can't wait, but ultimately you express your admiration for this tree by covering it in tinsel, lights, trinkets, chocolates, candy canes and - depending on your preference - you'll sit a star or a fairy on its head.



As time wears on you deal, routinely, with the pine needles it sheds all over your floor or the occasional broken bauble that fell off when one of the branches got a bit too droopy under the gaudy weight. Still, you love it, and you start to pile up presents underneath it, little wrapped boxes of hopes and dreams, who knows what they'll contain...

Of course, come Christmas day you unwrap these presents and it's either things you asked for, things you don't want or - occasionally - some lovely little surprise gifts that probably find themselves forgotten at the back of a drawer in a few weeks. The things that endure will ultimately be the 'blandest', some socks or a jumper.

Now all the presents are gone, their tempting wrap has been quickly bundled up into a big black bin liner, you gorge yourself and sit contentedly staring at the tree, it looks a little bedraggled, I mean its been carrying all those dreams around for a few weeks now and it's starting to take its toll, some of its branches look a little bare, maybe you should try and tend to it. You start to think; "Hey, after Christmas I could plant the tree and nurture it and use the same one next year and the next, this could be MY tree!"

But you don't, soon Christmas is over and the tree looks more and more out of place in your lounge, New Year comes and goes, maybe you find that one last chocolate hidden amongst the now bald limbs and for a moment you have a sweet memory of why you loved that Christmas tree. Though you know all too well, in the back of your mind, that you're going to have to dispose of this once joyful, ironically named evergreen very soon.

Maybe you take it to the tip, maybe you stuff it into a skip or chuck it by the roadside its ever withering carcass slowly dying outside your window, but it's over, the Christmas tree has served its purpose for another year. It'll take a while but in about 10 or 11 months you'll start to see other Christmas trees hanging around and you'll get that festive itch and the whole sorry process will begin again.



The other way in which Christmas trees are like relationships is that I don't have one and there's not much chance of me getting one before the year is out.