I was moving to Australia for my girlfriend – a stranger’s message stopped me

‘Does Becky* know we’re back together?’, I asked my girlfriend, Zara*, over FaceTime, smiling sweetly.

‘Yeah, she’s old news,’ Zara replied.

‘It’s just you and me now, baby,’ she added – giving me a cheeky wink.

At that moment, I found her pathetic.

After months of cheating on me with another woman (Becky), Zara was back on FaceTime with me as if nothing had happened.

‘Great!’, I said – and started laughing.

I didn’t mean to sound so absurd, but I clearly did; Zara’s face changed from spirited to confused.

I had been about to get my revenge on Zara by breaking her heart in the most humiliating way possible – but as I watched her squirm, I just felt empty.

This whole experience was beneath me.

A few months previously, I was swiping on Hinge when I saw Zara’s profile.

She seemed stylish and interesting, so I swiped right.

Sex.

Love.

Modern Mess.

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After a few messages, I gathered we didn’t live in the same country.

She was actually in Australia, but had changed her location to match with people in England because she wanted to see the ‘babes that lived there’.

Essentially, she lied before even starting a relationship.

That should have been my first red flag – but I ignored it to find my happily-ever-after, and we instantly started a relationship.

We spoke every day; sometimes all day.

Zara would stay up the entire night because of the time difference, and go to work the next day on little sleep.

We said ‘I love you’ over the phone.

My friends, rightly so, thought I had lost the plot.

And in some ways, I had.

I was head-over-heels for a woman I had never met in person.

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I had recently been made redundant and wasn’t finding any work in London.

So when Zara suggested, two months into our relationship, that I move to Australia, I took it seriously.

I looked into visas and work opportunities.

I spoke to immigration lawyers and searched online for people who had moved from the UK to Australia, asking them a million questions.

Little did I know that, while I was planning my move, Zara had begun sleeping with a woman she worked with: Becky.

This affair went on for two months.

Throughout this time, we spoke regularly on the phone: FaceTiming, texting, sending voice notes and videos.

And – something I’m not sure Becky knew – we had regular phone sex.

In fact, (as I later found out by pressing Zara for details), we once had phone sex while she was waiting for Becky to come over to hers.

When I called Zara to tell her I was ready to set a date for the move, there was regret in her face.

‘Are you sure this will work out?’, she asked, through sighs.

I interpreted her nerves as concern for me.

I told her not to worry, and set about securing a visa.

‘I can’t let you do this,’ Tate messaged.

‘Zara is sleeping with someone else.’
He told me that Zara had stopped talking about me altogether, and that she was openly dating Becky.

Immediately, I called Zara and confronted her – she broke down crying, saying she still loved me and that she didn’t know what she was doing.

Silently, I ended the call, alongside our relationship.

I was heartbroken.

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Over the next couple of weeks, I watched as Zara and Becky started posting each other online; and I formed a plan to get my revenge.

The former had blocked me on Instagram and WhatsApp after saying it ‘broke her heart’ to see photos of me; so I emailed her a long message explaining my heartbreak and asking her to come back to me.

She replied within the hour: ‘I do want to be with you.

I don’t know why I’m doing this, I’m miserable’.

Tate, who I had become close with, later sent me a screenshot of her Instagram; Zara had posted a smiling photo of her and Becky minutes after emailing me.

Over a few emails, I convinced Zara to dump Becky and get back with me.

I told her her future was with me instead of Becky, that I was the person she really wanted.

It worked.

Something inside of Zara wanted the drama of going back and forth between women.

I’m not sure what it was, but she liked having the option of both – losing me would mean just having Becky.

When I finally FaceTimed Zara and she told me Becky was ‘old news’, the whole process made me feel empty.

I just wanted it over.

‘Everything you did was horrible and you’re a terrible person’, I said to her over FaceTime.

I was astonished to see her roll her eyes.

‘Alright, let’s just move on.

Becky’s out of the picture,’ she snapped, sounding frustrated.

A sense of disbelief rose up in me.

I had actually considered moving across the country to be with this person. And I barely believed Becky was really no longer in her life.

‘I’m glad she’s out of the picture, because I have something to tell you,’ I said.

Breathing in, I took a long pause.

‘I never want anything to do with you again’.

Hanging up on her confused face felt freeing – I felt a load lift from my shoulders – but it also felt cruel.

Although I had wanted revenge, seeing another person looking so shocked and upset left me feeling sad.

I realised I had got swept up in the drama, and that it would have been better to simply walk away.

So I finally did.

And I never looked back.

*Names have been changed