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Meeting new people - some serious shit please...


Bob
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So went to a consultation with a relate counsellor this morning and we've agreed to go through a series of separation counselling.

 

The whole process was fucking dreadful, all the emotions back to the fore, but at least we're moving on in a positive manner.

 

Thanks for being here everyone.

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So went to a consultation with a relate counsellor this morning and we've agreed to go through a series of separation counselling.

 

The whole process was fucking dreadful, all the emotions back to the fore, but at least we're moving on in a positive manner.

 

Thanks for being here everyone.

Good work Bob, during the sessions though try not to boast about the fact your 'internet friends' have got your back.

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  • 2 months later...

So went to a consultation with a relate counsellor this morning and we've agreed to go through a series of separation counselling.

 

The whole process was fucking dreadful, all the emotions back to the fore, but at least we're moving on in a positive manner.

 

Thanks for being here everyone.

Jesus fucking Christ Bob, I'm sorry to bump an old thread but I've been absent, but I've checked in and I read this!!??

Relate? Counselling? Have you not listened to a word I've said?

You'll never move on with you life until you SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR.

It's over, now get it finished and consigned to history. You're rapidly approaching the half way point of useful life (it can be dragged on longer, but you'll need your arse wiping for you).

She's nothing more than memory that looks after your daughter.

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Jesus fucking Christ Bob, I'm sorry to bump an old thread but I've been absent, but I've checked in and I read this!!??

Relate? Counselling? Have you not listened to a word I've said?

You'll never move on with you life until you SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR.

It's over, now get it finished and consigned to history. You're rapidly approaching the half way point of useful life (it can be dragged on longer, but you'll need your arse wiping for you).

She's nothing more than memory that looks after your daughter.

 

he had consigned it to history until you brought it all up again you heartless bastard.

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Jesus fucking Christ Bob, I'm sorry to bump an old thread but I've been absent, but I've checked in and I read this!!??

Relate? Counselling? Have you not listened to a word I've said?

You'll never move on with you life until you SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR.

It's over, now get it finished and consigned to history. You're rapidly approaching the half way point of useful life (it can be dragged on longer, but you'll need your arse wiping for you).

She's nothing more than memory that looks after your daughter.

 

Agree 100%. Get your own place/get her to move out. Get a room done up for your daughter and laugh your way into your new life. Your life will be nothing but stress as long as you are in the same house.

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Ok, Bob, you've played defence, but now it's time to switch to offence.

 

This is the part where you have to work hard to make her question her own sanity. You start small - moving everyday objects from their normal places into more unusual ones. Things she won't notice. Then when you come home from work you 'find' them and ask why she moved them. You'll need to let her find a few as well. After all, we need her questioning her own sanity, not your's. We'll  move on to how you can make her 'hear voices', and how she will find notes she never wrote but that are in her own handwriting in due course.

 

The end game here is you get the house, your daughter, and the cat. She gets tranquilizers and a hospital ward. This is war, and the GF will crush her.

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women be shoppiiiiin

 

 

Bob should have taken Tom R's offer up and gone on the prowl round Leeds. *Nothing better than waking up to a big fat Yorkshire lasses spotty arse to give you a reality check.

 

 

*this has never happened to me.  

You've not lived. I once woke up next to one of Leeds' finest after a night on the cobbles who looked a bit like 80's rock warbler Meatloaf, but with added sweat. Still gave her a quick matinee of course before I legged it, but boy was she ugly.

 

Bob - have you thought about letting me have a go on your missus?* Get me the intro and I'll take it from there. You'll have to put up with her looking unbearably happy for a few weeks, and walking like John Wayne after he's completed the Tour De France on a bike with no saddle, but just keep thinking of the long game. Depending on her current levels of self-esteem, it might take up to a month or so before she's an empty bitter shell who cries herself to drink-induced sleep every night with her eight cats for company. For an extra few quid I'll string her along until she gets a ludicrous boob job and agrees to make a vid, which you can have included in the fee.

 

 

*assuming I haven't already, of course, and I'm not actually the root cause of all your problems. You missus isn't called Sarah and lives in Calverley is she? That could be awkward.

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  • 1 year later...

Well, the ex is moving back in with me on Wednesday. She's had a change of heart having been apart for a good while and has asked of of take her back.

 

I said I would.

 

I'm not convinced it'll work out, but we've both changed for the better while we've been apart and we get on better than we have in years, so I guess we'll see.

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