I saw my ex-girlfriend today. We broke up five years ago. The year was 1998 and I'm very much over her.
I was hung-over this morning and only popping to B&Q to get some screws, and so, I didn't bother shaving and just threw on an old t-shirt. She was at the queue buying a Japanese water feature and we had a brief and only slightly awkward chat.
Straight away I realised that I'd been involved in the worst event in the history of time. I remembered that the t-shirt I was wearing was a Christmas present from her in 1996. This combined with the alcohol on my breath and my unshaven face meant that there was no way I left the conversation without her thinking that I was still very much in love with her and my life had fallen apart because of it.
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