Hair Karma

You know how it is (although I’m sure you'll pretend you dont). You've met a nice - or maybe just normal enough boy, and everything is going well. His behaviour is nothing but pleasing, and has even progressed to the 'Do you mind if I leave this here?' stage (that’s a classic nester right there)
Then, BAM. There's a shift. You can't see it, you can't talk about it, but you know it's there. All of a sudden his things have disappeared, and after not seeing him for a week he’s saying things such as ‘I’ll pop over at some point’ (what does that even MEAN?)

Things only get worse from here. You innocently have a browse on his Facebook page only to be assaulted with pictures of him with a mystery bint in tow.
Now, there are two ways to deal with this new information. One is to make yourself a cup of tea, allow some gentle weeping, and feel comforted by the knowledge that you’re better off without him.
The second is to break down into hysterical wails for at least two hours before throwing perfectly innocent objects such as shoes or Bonsai trees.  
Yeah, ok I went for the latter- but am by NO means dramatic, just slightly Latin of temperament.

But don’t give in all together! If you really look back at the relationship I’m sure it wasn’t that great anyway. And I did look back. I looked back and examined those Facebook pictures with a precision I’m not entirely sure is normal. And do you know what I saw? He’d had a haircut. And you know what? It was really weird.
What’s more, I realised that what I was most insulted by as a fashion journalist (and as a WOMAN) was his outfit. I’m not going to pretend I understand the neckline of that jumper, and definitely won’t defend that colour scheme.