I walked through my bedroom door, flung my bag of chips onto the bed, one high-heel onto the floor, lashes on my bedside locker and proceeded to take off my makeup. The room was still spinning with a pink gin haze, but apart from that everything was fine. I dug my phone out of my clutch, about to check if my best friend got home okay. Pink gin haze out in full force, remaining heel causing a wobble, I lit up my phone to find something so unexpected, out of the blue, completely world shaking. His name sat boldly on my phone screen, the name that had haunted me for a long time, the name that had never committed to me, the name that never pops up until I’m happy and doing well.
I panicked, the only reaction I had was to screenshot the notification. Surely he had accidentally liked my Insta and he had been caught rotten? I pressed into it, expecting his name to be gone, but there it was, sitting underneath one of my recent posts. My body froze up as my chips got colder. I stared at his name for some time before pacing my bedroom floor searching for logic. There was none – I was happy, and it was him. I didn’t even realise I still had one shoe on.
“Ah he’s some prick that fella! Is he for real?!” I presumed my bestie had made it home okay as she vented her frustration down the phone between bites of her burger. We were world’s apart, myself and the gals in a pink gin, burger eating, glamorous pit of despair. And where was he? What middle part had I missed? Was he thinking about me? Was he drunk and lonely? Was it an accident? Did he just know this would be my thought process and it gave him power?
I collapsed into bed beside my chips. His name hadn’t been in my world for so long, everything felt strange and out of whack, no wonder I still had one shoe on. I was happy, it was him. And now one double tap, a hundred questions, an angry girl gang and two separate beds later – It was us.
