OK, so this just happened. If you follow my Instagram and have read my previous blogs (If you haven’t then read Blown Away and I never make the same mistake twice first because this will make more sense to you if you have read those) then you will know about Corey, the guy who I have always had a soft spot for but it’s never gone anywhere because he has been inconsistent for a really long time. At the end of the last blog about him I said ‘If I ever tell you I’m speaking to Corey again then call me an Ambulance because it means that I am not OK’. I didn’t block him though. I didn’t feel the need to because I’m really happy at the moment. I feel strong and buff, and my feelings for him are not deep enough to cut me in any way. It’s all surface level, we’ve never slept together, it’s never been more than a drawn out series of first dates, he’s just a guy who I’ve always clicked with and thought that if he behaved completely differently then it could work. He’s good at saying he’ll fix up but he can’t seem manage to actually do it.

Corey has been in touch two or three times since I wrote that blog in March. I’ve been offish in my responses because I just haven’t been interested in engaging in any form of conversation with him but he has persisted nonetheless. A few days ago he rang me from a private number and so I answered. We spoke for a while, and he apologised for his behaviour, I cussed hi calmly and told him about himself politely. He said that he hadn’t thought it had been that bad so I decided to read him out the blogs (because I’m not bloody giving him the link so that he can read the rest of them) and he was up for hearing them. I thought he probably needed to hear some home truths.

He listened intently and laughed at all the right points and when I had finished he said:

‘I’m blown away, you amazing, incredible, talented woman. I can’t even argue with you on any of the points because you put it across in such a hilarious way that I just have to respect every word you say.’

Stroking my ego is a pretty good way to get me to want to carry on speaking to you and his tactic worked. I loved his reaction, it was extremely interesting reading the Fuckboy blog to a Fuckboy. I was surprised that he wasn’t offended or feeling humbled, in fact it was quite the opposite, he seemed to absolutely love it. That says a lot. After the call ended he messaged me asking if we could make Chapter 3. I told him that I didn’t want any more material. He then told me that he was going to write a response blog. He said that he wanted to put his side across.

He seemed very keen on this idea because for the next 24 hours he kept on messaging me asking me for the key points, and telling me that he was about to start. At one point he asked me for a template ‘like what you have for a CV’. I told him that there was no template, you just write. I told him to just think about how he would say it. I told him that I write how I speak. It just falls out naturally.

He messaged me yesterday asking what I was up to and I asked him if he had finished his blog. He said he hadn’t even started because he’s got writer’s block. He said ‘it’s way harder than I thought. You make it seem easy.’ And I said ‘Mariah Carey makes singing look easy, doesn’t mean you can suddenly belt out Hero.’ I’m not suggesting that my writing is at the levels of Mariah Carey’s singing but he seemed to get the analogy and decided to give up on the response blog. He suggested that we meet up on Saturday night so that he could tell me his response verbally and I could write it up.

I thought this was a marvellous idea, I’m always looking for good material and I felt like this could be gold. I am child free this weekend, and it’s sunny. There’s a lot I could be doing with my Saturday night and so I told him that I was unsure about making a plan with him but he told me that he was 100% committed. He text me this morning to make sure that we were still on and we made a plan to watch the Grand National together at mine, smoke a few joints, drink some cider, write some blogs…….

I was well up for it but I asked him again to confirm 100% and I told him that I would not be at all happy about wasting a child free night to be fucked around. He swore blind that this was definitely happening and that he would not let me down. I dropped my son off to his Dad’s at 2pm. Corey was planning to come to mine at 5pm so I had limited time to fit in everything I needed to do. I wanted to go to the gym, have a sunbed, a pedicure, and clean my house. I only managed to clean my house and have a pedicure.

At 4.30 I realised that Corey didn’t know my address and so I messaged him. I got nothing. At 5:05pm, ten minutes before the Grand National was starting I rang him, twice, no answer. At 5:45pm, after hearing nothing, I messaged him:

‘Na, you are seriously psychopathically mentally ill you are you know that’


‘Fuck you on so many levels’

‘You wasted my child free night AND my chance to go to the gym and have a sunbed. FUCK YOU.’

It’s now 20:45pm and he still hasn’t responded. At 5:30pm when I was sat in my house watching the Grand National on my own I felt this deep sense of weirdness in my stomach. I wasn’t sad, I didn’t want to cry, I just felt weird. Like, how could I let him do this to me again? Really, on a serious level. How could I let him? And why would he? I just don’t understand. I looked around my empty house with the sun pouring in the windows and I started to feel sad that I wasn’t out there in a beer garden with the girls. I felt so disrespected. What was wrong with me?

That lasted for approximately 6 minutes. And then I remembered that I genuinely don’t care about him, and that I had only made that plan with him because I knew that even if it didn’t happen I wouldn’t care that much anyway. That’s the thing about linking Fuckboys after you’ve said that you are done, you can only do it if you are genuinely harbouring no feelings whatsoever. Otherwise when something like this happens it can really be painful. This is not painful. This is momentarily aggravating. I’m really rather glad that the little Fuckboy never entered my home. I would have probably ended up shagging him accidentally and so he’s actually done me a favour. I put on a happy tune and started messaging my friends.

I managed to make  plans with a friend for 10.30pm which are far more appealing than teaching a moron how to write a blog. I’ve now had a few hours to start this blog, my house is clean and there’s no bad Fuckboy energy in here. It worked out pretty well in the end. A couple of times I’ve looked at my phone and realised that he still hasn’t been in touch and my stomach has flipped a bit and the thought has gone through my head of why? Why would he do this to ME? I’m OK looking, funny, blah blah blah….What is so wrong with me that he would think it’s OK to do this? But that’s not what I should be questioning.

This is really abnormal behaviour for any fully functioning adult, to make a firm plan with someone and then literally not show up. Especially when he was the one pursuing me, not the other way around. That’s an incredibly bizzare thing to do. There is no need for me to question myself in this – this is entirely him – he is a certified dysfunctional weirdo. If I had made a plan with him knowing that I could stand to get hurt then I would need to be questioning myself, because that would be like self-harm but I’m good, I’m not hurt. The Universe has been consistently protecting me from allowing this weirdo into my life. His fuck ups are good, he’s showing me loud and clear exactly what type of person he is and I certainly do not need that kind of person in my life.

No doubt I will receive a call later or tomorrow. I think the excuse is going to be:

‘OMG Babe, I smoked a joint after I got out the shower and I conked out. Didn’t even mean to. Woke up and saw your messages and I felt like a cunt. I’m so sorry. WYD?’

And I’m going to reply ‘Just finishing off Chapter 3 you fucking cunt’. I wonder if that’s why he did it. I wonder if it fed his ego so much to have his antics in writing that he orchestrated this whole event so that he could get his spot in the limelight again. He obviously doesn’t realise that him breaking the mould would have made a far more interesting story. This one is quite frankly dull.

Sunday morning: Before I go I should probably give you an update from last night. I wrote all of the above on Saturday night and it’s now Sunday morning. I mentioned last night that I had made alternative plans with a friend at 10.30pm. My mate Warren came over to smoke, chill and play cards. I’ve known Warren since we were about 16. He’s one of the funniest guys you could meet in your life, Warren will have you in hysterics even on your saddest days. He’s not my type but his humour makes him attractive. He’s a good guy. I used to like him when we were younger and we kissed back then, but me and Warren are completely platonic now and have been for many years.

Warren has got a long term girlfriend who he’s been with forever, they’ve got a son and she’s just recently found out that she’s expecting another. She’s the jealous type and so Warren doesn’t tell her when we link up, even though there’s nothing to tell. This bothers me because I don’t want to be doing anything that could potentially hurt another woman but Warren says that it’s just unnecessary for her to know. We haven’t seen each other for ages and so I was looking forward to him coming round. When Warren arrived last night I was wearing pyjamas. I don’t need to make an effort for him. He kept obviously staring at my bum and it was a bit odd and unusual for him. He couldn’t take his eyes off me and so I told him that he was being a bit of a weirdo.

Warren wanted to show me a video on his phone and so he sat next to me on the sofa, he laid back so that his head was on my right tit. I pushed it off and told him that he needed to move. Warren said ‘but you’re my friend, I lay with all my friend’s like this’. I’ve never seen him laying on Marlon’s chest having a cuddle in all my life so I didn’t believe him.

As the night wore on Warren was continually making sly advances towards me until I’d had enough and pulled him up on it. Warren then told me that he’d been thinking about me differently for a while and that he loved me as a friend but that he also thought he could fall in love with me on a different level and he wanted to make love to me. I was shocked. I told him that he has a pregnant girlfriend and that I was disgusted by his behaviour. He said that he wasn’t being disrespectful to his Mrs because he wasn’t out here fucking randoms, he was trying to make love to a woman who he has feelings for. He felt that because we have a connection it would legitimise an affair, because the sex would be meaningful.

I was so angry with Warren. In all honesty I think I would rather my man got a blow job off some random skank in an alleyway than make love to a woman who he has feelings for, not that I would tolerate any man of mine doing either, but I know which one would hurt less. I couldn’t believe that he was doing this, with me of all people, he knows what I am like. He knows that I would never, ever be a side chick. I value myself and other women way too highly for that. I had been let down by one Fuckboy that night and I wanted to spend time with a good man, a friend who made me feel safe and who has always given me faith in the fact that there are good men around, and now he had also become a Fuckboy. He left and I went to bed feeling really deflated.

It’s 11am now and Corey has still not been in touch and I still don’t care. Although now I’m starting to wonder whether he’s dead because I cannot accept any other explanation for why he has still not been in touch. Warren text me to apologise but he’s still left me feeling ever so slightly shitty about men. But anyway, it’s a beautiful day and I am going to forget about last night’s events. I’m off to meet the girls in a beer garden with the intention of finding that elusive divine dicked male with pure intentions and a good soul (who likes White women). I’ll let you know if I find him…………