Page 13 of Wish You Were Here
‘Maybe in another six months you can try again.’
‘You don’t think in six months I will have found someone?’ I say, and I can hear the tension down the line.
‘Umm …’
‘I’m just kidding, Abs. It’s fine.’
‘There’s plenty more fish in the sea!’ says Abigail positively.
‘Actually, I've done the maths and there’s just nine fish in the sea.’
‘Really? Fuck! That isn’t very many fish at all, is it?’
‘Not really.’
‘Sorry about Cress.’
‘It’s okay, not your fault. Goodnight, Abs,’ I say, hanging up, and then I head back to Clapham, where Flatmate Simon will undoubtedly still be in his dressing gown, on the sofa, and I am back to square one. One fish down, nine to go.
6
Saskia
Dear S,
Can I call you just S? Is that weird? I think it’s too weird. I won’t do it again. Sorry. Okay, so I found a video on YouTube about Huntsman spiders and it is mental! How can you live there? I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I would live in a constant state of fear that a giant huntsman spider would move into my house and I would be forced to move out! Give me pebbly beaches and hostile seagulls any day of the week.
Regarding my status as a single man, I just went out on a date, and it was a disaster. She ended up in floods of tears, went to the toilet and didn’t come back! Not good. To be clear, it wasn’t anything I did. She just wasn’t over her ex-boyfriend, but it did make me think about how hard it is to meet someone. I am soon going to be thirty, and I have decided I want to meet my future wife, and my friends are helping me. Is that sad? I’m tired of being single or in rubbish relationships. I see other people settling down, going on holiday with their partners, getting married, buying houses, having kids, and I am ready for it. Anyway, that’s enough sadness from me – bloody grey weather! Oh yes, it rained super hard on the date, and it made me think of you.
I actually have a confession. I told my flatmate about you, and he made me look you up online. I don’t have social media, but he does, and he found your Instagram page. I have two things to tell you. One, you are a brilliant singer! I watched a few of the videos, and I couldn’t believe your voice. You should be famous! Two, you are stunningly beautiful. I don’t know what I was expecting – apparently, a hideously unattractive, wizened old woman with a hunchback and a face so unpleasant I couldn’t bear to look at it without vomiting in disgust – but I was pleasantly surprised. I’m not sure where I am going with this, other than I think you are very talented and very beautiful. That’s it. Until next time, email pal!
All the best,
B x
PS. I realise using B is as lame as calling you S. I won’t do it again. Sorry.
I am walking with Jess from Coogee Beach to Bondi Beach on a cool, slightly overcast Saturday morning, and I’m telling her about my recent decision to be single and celibate. The Coogee to Bondi walk is one of our favourites, and we do it at least once a month. It’s about six kilometres along the most beautiful coastal pathway, and the views are to die for. It takes about two hours, so absolutely perfect for a proper chat away from phones, husbands and all the other interruptions of life. It’s just me, Jess and the stunning Sydney coastline. Today is also the first time we have hung out since the wedding and her honeymoon to Bali.
‘I’m just tired of making bad choice after bad choice when it comes to men,’ I say, striding along in black three quarter length tights, with a long-sleeved lilac top and a pair of black Nike runners. My definitely-in-need-of-a-wash hair is tied up, and despite the rather blustery day, I’m feeling good. Although Ihaven’t had my morning coffee yet, which we are going to get in Bondi.
‘Like Brad?’ says Jess, who is basically wearing a different variation of the same outfit, although she is rather more tanned than me after her honeymoon.
‘I’m sorry, okay? You were right. I should have left it alone. I felt like shit in the morning.’
‘So you should, but we all make mistakes. Remember the English fella I dated before Az?’
‘The one with the large penis?’
‘Not large, Sas, enormous! But that wasn’t the problem. He was three-timing me with two other women. I still don’t know how he had the time to be dating all three of us, and it must have cost him an absolute fortune on dates. We always went to the nicest places.’
‘Maybe he needed to put that huge penis to work. One woman just wasn’t enough for it.’
Jess laughs. ‘Maybe. So, you’re really going to be celibate, and for how long?’
This is a good question. I have decided to stay away from men for a while and to focus on my career, but for how long? How long can I keep trying to be a singer until I have to give up the dream and, in the words of Mum, ‘get a proper job’? What job would I even get, given that I am qualified to do absolutely nothing? How long until I begin dating again, and not just sleeping with men because I am tired of that, but actually dating, and what if I meet the perfect man, am I going to say no because I am currently on a break from love? I have no answers to these burning questions, but I know I am tired of making the wrong choices, so I’m choosing me instead.
‘I am, but I don’t know for how long. I just need some time to breathe.’
