I had refreshed the page 5 or 6 times before I actually accepted that what I was reading was true.
And then I carried on with my week.
I didn’t cry, I didn’t get angry, I didn’t curl up in a foetal position.
I didn’t write in a diary for the first time in 12 years.
I went to work and pasted on a smile at the condescending glances, I allowed the twins to attempt to be nice to me, I went for lunch with dad “to take my mind of THINGS”. But in reality I spent the best part of a week feeling completely numb. I felt like a moon that didn’t have a planet anymore, and now I was left to drift ceaselessly and aimlessly into the ever expanding abyss of deep space. And what’s worse is I allowed myself to succumb to this zombie state and to remain like it.
Tessa encouraged me to join her at the pub, I had no feelings on the matter. I didn’t want to go nor did I not want to go. My brain had become so unreceptive to anything around me, as I adopted this charade of “living”, that I couldn’t even display an opinion anymore.
So I followed Tessa like a little lost lamb and went to the pub; where the solution to my woes,as usual, did not miraculously appear at the bottom of my wine glass.
I had started to lighten up after a few drinks, I still felt almost as if I wasn’t there- if someone had told in “sixth sense” style that I was a ghost I think I would have probably believed them. But I did have a few genuine smiles- which was a start.
And then Tim from the office arrived, I hadn’t seen him since my ridiculous faux pas. Granted I don’t particularly like feeling chronic embarrassment, but it was the first real emotion I’d experienced in days.
Tim strolled over to our table, he sat down and said “Oh no I’ve forgotten my wallet…Misty can you see if you’ve got a magic staircase behind the table that leads to my flat” and he flashed the most mischievous and knowing grin. I suddenly felt alive for 5 seconds.
Then I instantly felt ridiculous. I had been living a zombie life for a week despite everyone’s attempts to cheer me up, and now one little bit of attention from a man and I feel good again. What ever happened to all those ideas of feminism I used to spout out? All the lectures I had given to friends about how they didn’t need a man to complete them- that to have true self worth they should be completely happy on their own. What a pile of rubbish. I’m such a hypocrite.
However the wine had started to take definite effect by now- all my logic and oppositions didn’t seem to matter as much as they would have to a sober mind. And when Tim sidled up next to me, tucked my hair behind my ear, and whispered “You scrub up well Bailey” I knew I was done for.
As we walked out into the cool crisp night air, Tessa giggling behind with Tim’s friend Mark, Tim grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It should have been wonderful.
Gorgeous, funny, intelligent man. Check.
Interested in you. Check.
Beautiful, starry night. Check.
But I instantly felt repulsed. Tim didn’t know how to kiss me like HE did.
Tim didn’t place a hand on the small of my back, Tim didn’t sweetly twirl a strand of my hair around his finger, Tim didn’t lean his forehead against mine after the kiss and gaze into my eyes for just longer than a second. It was all wrong.
“I’ve got to go” I said frantically as Tim looked at me wide eyed: hurt and confused.
Then I got in my car.
I seem to be making some phenomenally bad decisions of late- I think it is some sort of unconscious self sabotage- but this one goes straight to the top of the list.
Why get in my car when I live a 5 minute walk away? Laziness- no. Coldness – no. Tiredness – no.
I decided it was completely imperative to see HIM. I needed to talk to HIM and it definitely could not wait.
So I started to drive to HIS house, I had been in the car a mere 3 minutes when I saw the blue flashing lights, my heart sank- I knew what was coming.
I thought there would be nothing more degrading than being read your rights in a local police station at 2am after blowing positive for drink driving, while surrounded by lager louts- who as you are being read said rights decide to dive at each other before being forcibly removed by police officers. Then they told me they were keeping me in a cell for the night.
They took away most of my belongings- I know it’s health and safety protocol, and obviously completely my fault- but what was I going to do with a watch?
Before they took me, sobbing and steaming drunk, to a cell they asked me if there was anyone I would like to notify. I immediately spilled out the first number I thought of, the only person I wanted to know about what I had done.
Then I spent the night in a police cell.
I woke up yesterday morning, dizzy and confused, mouth like sandpaper and for about 3 minutes I had no idea where I was. I had very little recollection of the night after Tim’s kiss and my head was pounding too furiously for me to even attempt to piece the fuzzy memories into something tangible at this moment.
The police officers finally released me around midday after taking fingerprints, DNA samples and informing me I was twice the legal limit when I was pulled over( and this will undoubtedly lead to a driving ban if not worse).
I used the toilets in reception to splash water onto my face and couldn’t believe the reflection that gazed back at me. I didn’t recognize this girl with wild hair, dark circles, sick stains over my clothes (oh god yes I was sick in the middle of the night!). I edged nervously and ashamedly back to the reception and after handing me my possessions and court date the police officer informed me my notified person was waiting in the waiting room to take me home as my car was impounded.
“Notified person?” I said groggily
“yes Miss Bailey, the number you gave us last night, the person you wanted us to notify about your arrest”
It all suddenly came tumbling back into my head, a flurry of moments like an old movie you’ve suddenly remembered- every scene pixel perfect.
I gazed through the glass doors to the waiting room area and my hazy recollections were confirmed.
HE was sat there, staring right back at me.