Page 59 of The Weight Of It All
“Oh, it’s technically a date.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Tell me everything he said.”
I relayed the conversation, and I could tell she was smilingwhen she spoke. “Henry, I don’t want you to freak out. But it’s a date.”
“It’s just dinner. He specifically called it a non-date.”
“He called it a non-date because he didn’t want you to freak out, but he still wanted to have dinner with you. It’s a date, Henry.”
I was grinning. I couldn’t help it. “Do you think so?”
“I know!”
“He held my hand.”
“He what?”
“He helped me up off the floor and kept a hold of it for about ten seconds.”
She squealed again, and it sounded like she was bouncing in her seat.
I laughed at her. “Please tell me you’re not in your office.”
“Nope. Driving to North Sydney. Boring monthly meeting with Legal at nine thirty.” She sighed loudly. “Um Henry, what were you doing on the floor?”
“Dying.”
“Right.”
“I had a sex dream of him last night.”
Her laughter burst through the phone. “Was he good?”
“Of course.”
“And let me guess. Hung too, right?”
“Like a horse.”
It sounded like she was doing that weird jumpy-clap thing in her seat. “Oh, Henry, I do love you.”
“Love you too.”
“We’ll talk later. And I want all the details. All of them.”
I clicked off the call and made my way to the office. As much as I loved my job, as much as I enjoyed having newfound conversations with my fellow co-workers, I just wanted it all to be over.
I was excited for the weekend. I hadn’t looked forward tosomething like this in a long time. Sure, I’d enjoyed weekends with Graham, but we rarely did anything together. The lustre had been lacking in our relationship for a long time. I could see that now. And it was strange that I no longer felt sad or hurt by Graham’s decision to end it. I was hurt by his words, and I was hurt by the cruel way he thought me so undeserving of an adult conversation instead resorting to pointing out my weight and how I chose to live my life. A simple “this isn’t working out” would’ve sufficed. Then again, maybe if he’d been gentle with me, I’d have clung to hope that he’d come back. Maybe he’d been deliberately harsh with me so I would know it was truly over.
Whatever his reasons, I was no longer sad. I was no longer devastated. I was no longer a hot, pining mess.
I was relieved.
I was me again, but not just the old me. A new, better me. A healthier me. Mentally and physically, I was in a better place. I still had a long way to go. I wasn’t denying that. But just four weeks ago, I spent a Friday night scared to be alone. I was a crying mess, eating my emotions with a side of cheesecake.
This Friday night, I was cooking healthy food while dancing around my kitchen toThe Best of the Bee Gees. I fell happily onto my sofa to watchGame of Thrones, wrote out my weekly menu plan and shopping list, had a delicious bubble bath, and went to bed with every intention of fantasising about Reed and the things he would do to me.
