There are three things a diva may turn to, to help her get through the shame of being dumped - copious amounts of wine, unlimited retail therapy and the steady demolition of her favourite sugary treat.
I favour a fourth way - the gym or in this instance a hard core session on the treadmill, followed by hitting the punchbag as hard as possible, while visualling it with M2's face on it.
I must have still been sporting the look of a deranged, angry woman on my face during my train journey home, because I caught the eye of a fellow male passenger who declared
"Cheer up darling, it might never happen!". "It already has" I said.
"Let me guess darling, man trouble?" I nodded.
"Don't worry you'll get over it". "I already have" I replied smiling, as I got off the train. M2 who?
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