Babygirl
By Sid Ewing
It's a Tuesday night in early October and I'm sat at the kitchen table in the share house I live in drinking a hot toddy. My housemate tells me I'd be mad to go on a first Tinder date sober. I look in the fridge for an estranged beer, all we have is a miniature bottle of whiskey. It doesn't quite fit the occasion but the warm alcohol settles my nerves. She texts me.
'Running ten mins late, soz'
I leave the house anyway. I'll walk slowly.
I glance around Wetherspoons, stopping for a moment on anyone with blonde hair. I spot her. At the bar, she is holding two pints of beer. She actually looks like the photos from her Tinder profile. I'm instantly attracted to her. The first thing I notice is her 'babygirl' gold necklace. Hot.
"Where do you want to sit?"
"Umm, how about that booth over there?"
She does most of the talking. An hour in and we've barely touched our pints. I can't remember what we spoke about. We drink two more pints of cheap Heineken. I lean over the table and kiss her. It’s a manic, passionate kiss, like 15 year olds on the dance floor kind of kiss. I don't know who's more shocked.
We go to another pub. We order two pints of lager. I take a sip. I'm drunk.
"Do you want to come to mine?"
We abandon the un-drunk £5.60 pints.
The next day we text non-stop, and the next day, and the next.
We flirt, we realise we have mutual friends, we send pictures of our lunches, dinners, our boobs.
The next month is a blur. We see each other more nights than not. I forget how to be alone. She ditches her friends on her birthday to meet me. I leave work drinks early to see her. She turns up at mine in the middle of the night. She hangs out with my housemates. My friends. My brother. We plan to meet each other’s parents.
I go to work hungover but I don't care. I get a new job and she buys me flowers. Things progress really quickly, like all classic lesbian love stories. She asks to be my girlfriend. Says she's in love with me. I believe her. I think I am too.
We go to Margate on a romantic weekend, we stay at The Walpole, we eat oysters and drink champagne. I've fallen for her.
It's been ten weeks. I need to get a grip.
Christmas approaches, we are spending it apart. With our families. We tell each other how much we will miss each other. It's all been so intense. It will be good for us we say. Give us a chance to miss each other.
Over Christmas I am glued to my phone.
'I miss you baby'
'What are you up to?'
'I can't wait to fuck you'
The time passes, new year’s eve is celebrated and I can't wait to see her again.
But something changes, there is a shift in my universe. She's not texting me as often. She's just busy I convince myself.
I'm panicking. I cry for two days. I can't eat or sleep. I feel stupid. I'm crying because she hasn't text me for a day.
I start my new job. I call her to share first day anecdotes with my girlfriend. She's busy, had a long day, needs to get in the shower, hangs up.
I text her.
'Has something changed?'
'I think we should go for a walk this week'
FUCK
We go for a walk. It's a rainy Tuesday evening, early January. The walk lasts 7 minutes.
"I don't want this anymore, I want to concentrate on my career."
She hands me a bag with all my clothes from her house. I accept it.
I flop down on my bed, I don't cry. I've already mourned our 4 months of whatever that was.
A 4 months romance, for 4 months I thought about nothing but her. I feel stupid. Hours of boring my housemates, friends, colleagues, family about this amazing girl I'd met.
I feel removed from the person I was during that time, I don't recognise myself. I delete my Facebook and Instagram. It's too painful.
I haven't heard a word from her since. It's been 5 months now. She lives round the corner from me. I think I see her every time I go for my lock down walk. I rehearse what I'd say to her when I inevitably bump into her. I drive myself crazy trying to figure out what made her change her mind so suddenly. What made me so easily disposable. So unlovable.
When lock down finishes I'll try Hinge.