When you’re in the throes of new love you text from the moment you wake up until the moment you go to sleep. Their name popping up onto your phone feels like you’ve found a fiver and you’re dropping more x’s than Rik Waller’s tailor. So you can understand why I went bat shit, squirrel balls, box of twats mental when from 2pm on this particular day old Romeo wasn’t getting my messages.
In the past, my boyfriends had turned off their phone because they were at another girls house, or dumping me in the most cowardly way possible, or having a nervous breakdown and driving to Lincoln cathedral with no shoes on.
But Romeo isn’t them.
He’s at work. And the messages aren’t delivering (there’s only one tick on whats app – don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about) and he has football tonight. He’ll text me later.
5pm: The end of the work day rolls around… I’m not going to lie, I’m getting a little tense. I start messaging the girls so they can tell me I am being a solid gold nutter. Which is exactly what I need to hear.
6pm: I text Ruth separately so’s to ration the peek into the chamber pot of neurosis that is my bonce right now. A snippet of the conversation:
Ruth: What do you think is going on?
Me: Well he’s either dead or he’s dumping me.
Ruth: How longs it been?
Me: 4 hours?
Me: I know.
7pm: Ruth was now busy getting krunk at a work party. I’ve been miss calling Romeo every 2 hours (*30 minutes) from a private number – because in my brain he’s answering the phone to anyone but me. (He isn’t it’s going straight to answer phone)
Now I never, ever and I mean EVER condone texting your boyfriend’s mate. But you are not me and you can make better choices. So I text his best friend and housemate in the most casual tone I can muster over text. ‘Hey mate, you heard from Romeo’ … add an emoji? Like what? There’s no rabbit in a saucepan. Just leave it.
His housemate texts me back, thank LUCIFER: ‘Yeah his phone’s fucked mate he’ll ring you ASAP’
Of course it is.
Of course he will.
I popped down my fourth glass of wine, stubbed out my tenth cigarette and took a long hard look in the mirror.
Things are different now I’m not going out with a bell end. I need to get used to that.