In fact, I knew it at the time as well. I knew it from the first time I professed to my mum that 'he's actually really nice deep down' to the time he 'accidentally' forgot my birthday.

The signs were there.

But I can admit it now - I loved the idea of having a boyfriend and I loved being someone's someone.

Did it matter what the cost was? Eventually.

Could I live in a complete La La Land forever? Well, not forever... but I sure as hell had a couple of (somewhat) blissfully ignorant years uploading selfies and hashtagging #couplegoals.

I know, I'm face palming as I write this.

I did really want to break up with him.

And dear god, I tried! But my commitment to trying was as leaky as a sieve.

I tried blocking him on social media but would sneakily unblock him just to 'see what he was up to' (lies!). I had a crack at 'remaining friends' with him - Ha! What a joke.

Nothing worked.

But the last time I broke up with him, I wanted (needed) to get real with myself.

I had turned too many blind eyes.

I was desperately clinging to my decision to call it splitsville, trying to sponge every morsel of breakup advice from anyone who was willing to offer me up a crumb of wisdom.

I stuck quotes on my wall like 'sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together' but positive reinforcements just weren't cutting it.

I needed something stronger.

I needed a negative reinforcement.

It wasn't until I'd read my umpteenth self-help/personal development/this-is-how-you-make-your-life-suck-less book that I struck the gold I was looking for.

The book said to write a list of things you don't like about the person and reread it every time you feel yourself romanticising your relationship with them.

Perfect. I could do this.

I've got a whole damn essay worth of material! Hold onto my drink!

I wrote the list without any shame and I wrote it like no one would ever find it.

I wrote tiny annoyances down like 'I don't like how he puts his feet on me when we sit on the couch' to deeper dot points like 'I don't like how he never says I love you back'.

I read the list every time I felt like writing a 'hello, I miss you' text.

I read it when I bumped into him on a night out and I read it sitting in my bed at 9pm on a Friday night through teary eyes.

And, eventually, the list got tucked away deep into my bookcase and I forgot it ever existed.

Now, I should mention that I wrote this list three years ago.

Recently, while I was Marie Kondo-ing my house, I found it shoved between two notebooks in my bookcase.

Reading the words I'd written in such desperation made me feel sad for my 25-year-old self. She was naive, she was hopeful but mostly she was ashamed to admit she'd just picked the wrong guy.

So, what to do with said list now?

Could I do some kind of voodoo with it?

Maybe send it to my ex-boyfriend with a 'thanks a lot champ' note?

Or even repurpose it and give it to my current boyfriend as a 'what not to do' set of rules?

But I realised that I was in the middle of watching Marie Kondo's 'Tidying Up' and she says "keep only those things that speak to your heart. Then take the plunge and discard all the rest" - so I framed it.

Ha! Jokes.

I threw the list out.

Our brains have a tendency to flip on a pair of rose-coloured glasses when we're lamenting the loss of a relationship.

That crumpled up piece of paper sure as hell helped me get rid of the sad vibes reverberating off me and stop pining for something that maybe wasn't that great in the first place.

So, if you can't stop romanticising an old flame - get the pen out and start scribbling.