feeling than when the warm sun beams down on your face as you walk down a rickety path through the giant trees.
But it’s always a comfort to know that an immeasurable sea of people inhabit the earth at precisely the same time as me. The people of my zeitgeist, comrades and fellow friends at arms. I mentioned the need to move forward, but of course this is not truly possible without the honest reverberation of human connection: or my friends. Those rare friends who sacrifice their precious time to sit and listen to the repeat realisation over and over again as if it’s their first time of hearing it; all seeking a common destination of happiness as we pass the ball of encouragement back and forth between us. Under such honest tuition, there is no need to self-monitor. Advice comes in waves, and we may listen. This familiar buffer against the self-harm we often do to ourselves is the only outside eye we have. I take pleasure in carefully observing the fellow wildlife of others, comparing myself to what we deem is the norm. And when I feel the void, I know that I can always rely on the guidance of others in the bourgeoisie of our social climate. They wouldn’t dare let me date if I’m not ready to move on, or let me befriend a new person who isn’t exactly a support. They love me. They care. I should listen.
And so on to the next day: if only I could see that day that I’m imagining. Something I can see beyond how many miles, across how many oceans, aboard how many planes. Revisiting that landmark of the day that tipped the balance. The day that forced all toleration to crumble, the day a choice for something new took hold and the rewards of change had come to fruition. No longer do you have to test the boundaries of what your heart can take but instead you can be happy. Emerging from the flood, a slightly better, more water-resistant version of a person, to have the ability to travel through life again this time, returning slightly less scathed. I listened to the beat, to the sound of my heart, a drum-like pounding saying: use this, use today.
Chapter Four – Virtual Insanity
Checklist for Modern Romance:
• An electronic device for downloading free text messaging services. Cultivating digital friendships often involves a lot of backwards and forwards so free messaging is somewhat vital.
• As important as the ability to download digital dating platforms is the step of deleting them when the time comes for monogamous romance.
• A squidgy heart for the optimism of a swipe right.
• A tin heart for the rejection of a swipe left.
• A nice photograph of yourself: nothing too fancy and nothing too casual. You need to look your best but not like you’re trying.
• Healthy food you will pretend you are eating.
• Photographs of sunsets you will pretend you are watching.
• Covers of books you will pretend to be reading.
Sean was going on a date and I had turned up for moral support, barefaced apart from a facial nose strip, and ruining the ambience of his pristine bed linen with my dark green joggers. I watched as he casually laid a crisp, white shirt, navy blue leather watch and aftershave next to my feet which were adorned in a pair of woollen bed socks, and surrounded by enough junk food to feed a family with five teenagers.
‘You’re not seriously going to eat all that, are you?’ he said, glancing over at my stockpile as I reached for the Oreos.
‘Sure am,’ I replied, biting the packet open with my teeth. As I watched him towel-dry his legs on the edge of the bed it was clear I had nowhere else to be on this first Friday night in June.
‘Who is he anyway? I don’t think I’ve heard you mention his name before.’
‘I met him online. I’ve not really spoken to him that much or at all. But judging by his online profile he’s got the body of a Greek god.’
‘Sounds terrific,’ I mused, licking the cream from the centre of my biscuit.
‘And it’s just a bit of fun, anyway,’ he said, as he disappeared into a row of hanging trousers, rooting for his shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe. ‘He’s more popular than frickin’ Helen of Troy by the looks of things.’
‘What do you mean? He’s a bit of a slag?’
‘Not everyone who enjoys sex is a slag, Jess.’
I screwed up my face. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’ I’d offended him.
‘And it wouldn’t hurt you to get online and see what’s out there. You’ve been staying in for weeks, it’s a one-way road to…’
‘Depression?’ I said, finishing his sentence and reaching for another biscuit.
‘I was going to say obesity.’
I returned the biscuit to the packet.
‘So you don’t mind that they’re seeing other people?’ I said, propping myself up against his pillows. It was something completely new to me and I needed to know more.
‘No, why would I care?’
‘My God, I’d care. I don’t think I could date more than one man properly.’
‘No offence, sweetie, but you couldn’t date one man properly.’
I toasted my can of Diet Coke to his cocky remark as he took a step back to look at himself in the floor-length mirror, spraying five strong bursts of cologne. I closed my eyes as the smell fell over me like a blanket. I lay back down onto his pillow and could feel myself plummeting into a sugar low, the aftermath from all the snacks I had consumed. As I re-opened them I caught sight of Sean as he held up his phone and snapped a picture of his reflection.
‘Who are you sending that to?’ I asked, with one eye open.
‘No one.’
I threw him a look mixed with curiosity and a touch of envy.
‘Don’t hate the player, hate the game, right?’ he said, carefully choosing a filter for the picture before pressing send.
It was a philosophy I was still trying to understand. He turned to me as I played with the toggle on my joggers. I smiled, a deliberate film of chocolate covering my teeth.
‘Oh, that’s really pretty,’ he remarked, climbing over to lie down on the bed next to me. I made room as he flopped on his side so that our faces were almost touching.
‘If I can’t be with him then why can’t I just be with you?’ I whispered, carefully moving an errant hair from his forehead.
‘Because we’re both pricks and you deserve better.’
I placed a hand on Sean’s chest, fighting the urge to close my eyes again.
‘So you think tonight’s going to be fun?’ he said, lying back to face the ceiling.
‘Yes, I think it’s going to be good,’ I said, supportively.
He shot me a sarcastic glare.
‘Great, then!’
