Textual healing..?
My memory is fantastically recessive and often rivals that of a goldfish, but I'll do my best..

Some time in the not-so-distant-but-it-feels-that way past, I was in the final stages of a drawn-out and turbulent relationship. It only lasted for a year and a half but it felt like longer, as doomed things often do, and much to the irritation of my friends it was only really good for the first six months, with the rest consisting of moaning. However, we persisted for another year somehow, and I refused to take off my rose-tinted glasses until I was kicked in the head and they fell off (he cheated on me) to which I promptly decided 'fuck this shit' and began talking to somebody else who had been hovering around for a while and seemed rather more tasty than cheat-boy, who in any case was too skinny for me to get my teeth into.

So naturally, as soon as someone else is on the scene I'm suddenly much more out of reach (and therefore attractive) to him. So he crawls back asking for another chance, and after at least a fortnight of 2am calls, weeping and woe-is-him sniffling, I give in - reminding him that one more fuckup and his arse is grarse.

On this victory he hops on a train (the fact he lived 200 miles away was probably why I was able to put up with him for so long in the first place), and came down to spend a couple of nights celebrating what he thought was our reignited passion. Now, we had a 'lovely' night watching films in bed and being somewhat more pleasant to one another than had previously been the norm, but I realised the reason he'd never been too nice in the relationship - he wasn't very good at it. His compliments were cringeworthy and sweet-talk which had seemed so well intended a year and a half ago was now positively nauseating. I knew I had to get out before he was so 'nice' that I couldn't bring myself to finish with him. So I began texting a girlfriend and we concocted a plan.

Throughout the rest of the night I sent a text every 5 minutes, and the replies were becoming increasingly saucy (hilarious fodder for storytelling the following week in college, we never knew she had such a dirty mind..). Of course he began to get somewhat irate and eventually demanded to see what I was saying to whoever it was I was texting. An argument ensued and I went downstairs to 'the kitchen' giggling inwardly all the way after 'mistakenly' leaving my phone right there on the bedside table.

Needless to say after reading about my plans for a threesome with my best friend and an imaginary male he was somewhat angered, and flounced out of the house in a rather camp and angry manner, proclaiming how much of a female dog and a working girl I was. Yada yada. Talking about it later on, 'the girls' decided that if I was going to get myself dumped I may as well have gone out of his life with a bang (or that's what he thought from what he read, anyway.)
And he was a cunt to me, so revenge was sweeter than any of his half-arsed compliments.

Result: I haven't heard from the bugger since. *Thumbs up*
(HellHathFury Christ on his pushbike, Sat 7 Jun 2008, 3:55, Reply)