‘It’s like a divorce, you split the kids.’

It’s week 1, and I feel like an utter loser because I want to drive past the ex’s place to check out whether he’s there and what he’s doing. I, being a drama queen at times, had cleared all my stuff out of the apartment — which I basically put together — just a few days ago.

‘It’s fair. It’s like a divorce,’ my sister says, ‘you need to split the kids. Take what’s yours.’

‘Damn right, I’ll take the kids!’ So, that’s exactly what I did.

I remember packing my things up on that Monday night. Amongst the many, these stood out.

Item #1: The table I bought from IKEA for 60 bucks because I was so desperate for us to spend some time together that I was satisfied to be sitting next to him while he played Overwatch (a computer game that is actually really fun). The table I would come back to the apartment to find that he had used a dumping ground for his leftover food from meals the day before. Along with his makeshift ashtray of a mug despite the fact that I bought ashtrays which I had cleaned and left to dry just out in the balcony. But of course, he was too darn lazy to walk his ass to get it. Clearly, the need to smoke is so urgent like how one can’t stop pre-cum. So yes, I unscrewed the shit out of that table with the screwdriver I brought along with me. Also note that I bought and assembled the table all by myself just a month ago when he said “I want this space to be yours too.”

Item #2: The outdoor wooden tiles I bought for the sink/washing area because the area would always gather dirt and look too damn gross for anyone to walk on. Also cos I saw these tiles at a yoga studio I frequent and they looked so pretty. I bought a total of 18 tiles. It made the place look alot more homely and covered up the dirt that was underneath it all — just like how his charming veneer covered the black hole that is his soul.

I unplugged, as they are hinged together on the 4 sides, all 18 tiles on my own and dumped them into the IKEA bag I brought them in. Yes, I love IKEA, and I’m not gonna deny that. Now, he can live with that dirty floor for all I care.

Item #3: Half of a set of cutlery. I bought this when I realised we were only left with ONE spoon in the apartment. God knows where he threw everything else. He’d use a knife to clear the sink, then throw it in the bin. He’ll use a spoon to eat peanut butter before sleep and leave it at the bed side table. It got to a point where we would rely on take-away utensils and ask for extras. One day I got so god-damn sick of living like a cheapskate that I bought a set. So, that night I took back half of the set. Out of the goodness of my heart I left him with the other half. Although I know if I had taken all of it, he still wouldn’t have purchased a new set a month on.

Item #4: Queen size bedsheets I bought for $150. I remember buying this on the Sunday on which we were supposed to go for his friend’s wedding.

And no, we did not have good sex on these sheets. So not worth the price!

He had told me 2 months in advance about this wedding, and said I’d be his plus one. So that month I kept asking when the wedding was, which he’d usually say “I’ll check and get back to you.” Then comes THE Sunday of the wedding where he wakes up and says, “Shit. The wedding is today, but I don’t know if I can bring a plus one.” What the fuck did you say? Then why the fuck did you invite me 2 months ago. Then he says it’s a Muslim wedding at a restaurant which means there’s probably limited pax per table. To which I said, I’ve been to such weddings before and they pretty much function the same way as void deck weddings just in a more posh setting. And I had gone to the same venue this wedding was to be held at. He said he had to rush off already and I wouldn’t have time to get into something decent. I mentioned that the wedding venue was near my place and we could pop by mine to get me some clothes. He didn’t seem keen, so I relented. To make myself feel better that day, I bought us bedsheets. That’s how pathetic I was.

So, ladies, please learn from my experience. Have some self-respect. Don’t do up a place with an asshole when he can’t even be bothered to clean the spoon he eats peanut butter with.

I hope you feel better about yourself and your love life after reading this.

PS: I did NOT drive past his house. Yay for me!