UNFORTUNATELY YOUR EX GIRLFRIEND IS HAPPY

Yeah. She's smiling. She's smiling in a bikini. She's smiling in a bikini sat next to a guy who looks like a model or a professional football-player-cum-model. He has amazing teeth. Smiling in a bikini with a guy with arms bigger than your thighs wrapped round her and the glint of sun off that wall of white teeth: definitely happy. She is having the time of her life, man. Goddamnit.

Well, she would be, wouldn't she? In the next photo she's on a yacht. You didn't know she had any friends with yachts. She's from Swindon, for Christ's sake. Shit – do you know any guys with yachts? She does now. Maybe it's that guy with the arms and the teeth that owns the yacht? How can you compare to this new stud with a yacht and, from the next picture, what appears to be an onboard bar woman dressed in a coconut bra and a grass skirt? Might as well just keep looking though, just in case it starts to rain or something.

Do you like leis? Do they make you think of summer and fruit cocktails and beach sex? Did you ever do any of these things with her – because she's doing them now. What are they drinking? Do you want one? They're flirtinis. It's a kind of champagne cocktail with vodka, pineapple juice and a twist of lime if you want. It looks like they both want it. They're grinning at you while the sexy bar woman twists lime into their classy film star glasses. Shit – now they're laughing and drinking with the leis round their necks. Now they're kissing. Now they're both kissing the bar woman simultaneously on each cheek. Now they're all giving a joint thumbs up. When did you ever simultaneously kiss a Hawaiian bar woman on a yacht wearing leis giving thumbs up?

And she's thinner. She's thinner and prettier than you remember. In some of the pictures she could easily also be a model. Or a footballers wife – but, like, a naturally good looking one. The tan is real. The hair is real. Those boobs (which look weirdly bigger, higher and more together), are real. She is the real deal and now she's on a yacht with a premier league underwear model.

Actually, now she's walking out of the ocean pulling off a snorkel and goggles, she's hot. She's not just pretty – she's a stunner. She's a stunner you're not going out with any more.

Comments: Looking soooooooo good here, babe! HAAWWTTT!!! Lou XxX

Do you remember Lou? She was that one who always had it in for you. She always said Hi in a way that deliberately informed you of her hatred for you. She thought you were bringing her friend down. (Whisper it) Maybe you were bringing her friend down? Do you think you were? Lou does.

But – she's not happy, is she? Not really.

Next one: an outdoor restaurant terrace over looking the blue blue sea. Fuck. That sea is the bluest calmest sea ever. Where did you go swimming in the sea with her? That's right – the beach in Bournemouth. She cut her foot on a broken Corona bottle, didn't she? When she got sand in the wound you felt annoyed that she was making such a fuss and had ruined your nice October day out more than the grey sky and her steely faced friend Lou was already ruining it. You probably said you couldn't afford to go on holiday to Majorca last year, didn't you? Yeah, thought so. Now she's at a fancy outdoor terrace restaurant somewhere Caribbean-looking with Mr. Gorgeous Mc Successful drinking actual Champagne (He's pouring her drink for her in a gentlemanly manner. Also, so that you can see it's a real Champagne bottle.). AND they're now eating lobster. WHEN DID SHE EVER EAT LOBSTER BEFORE? Maybe you didn't ask her if she liked it. Maybe you said yellow sticker prawns were good value and good tasting? 'Luxurious,' perhaps you might have said.

Are you trying to work out what she's thinking? Are you clicking quickly through a series of pillow fight pictures in a posh hotel room with white linen sheets and white fluffy towels barely hiding their genitals? (Maybe you should report these for inappropriate content ... Go on. Be a big man. It's the right thing to do.).

Now she's grinning at you. Straight, dead in the face, staring at you. Her teeth are straighter and whiter than before. Do you want to know why? Well, you can't. That information is private. So butt out, stalker!

Is there any give away in her eyes? Any sign of inner turmoil? It's hard to tell when they're so creased through hysterical laughter in all the pics. Do you like her ring? It's real diamond. You know this because you've already been through the thirty-eight pictures of the happy couple deciding on which jewellers to go into, still in their boardies and sarong and matching straw beach hats, then picking the ring, then mock re-enacting the moment of proposal, complete with beaming shop assistant in synthetic waistcoat, and then the box, with the label stating it's authenticity. 24 carat white gold band too. Fuck.

And then the comments. Always the comments.

Lou's in there about twenty-eight-hundred times. Are you in there? Do you get any of the in jokes? When five million of her girl friends you realise you don't really recognise keep typing WILL I? DID I? CAN I? In capitals, followed by billions of LIKES, do you get it? Will you dare even LIKE the photo with the most comments? You can do it. It doesn't make you weak. Go on, be the bigger man again. Fine then, click to the next torturous picture. What a total ROFL moment this is.

Is that a plane? Do you ever fly first class? On her birthday last year, did you treat her to a weekend in Paris flying first class? Have you ever seen her drink so much Champagne and still look so thin, gorgeous and un-sweaty before? Maybe she had this whole life before you came along? Maybe she was already a person with interests and aspirations before you even met her through your mate Dan at the Rose and Crown three years ago? Maybe she's continuing with that life now.

Maybe. But she still misses you. She does. She really does. You can tell by the holiday pics.

Obviously.