24 Hours

I always told myself I’d never be one of those girls who ends up in an ‘on-off’ relationship. I never thought I’d have to answer questions regarding my relationship status as ‘it’s complicated’, and yet here we are; it’s him and me in the same room and neither my brain nor my heart can make sense of any of it.

“You look great,” he told me with a little smile so I knew he really believed it. When he smiles his face crinkles up and it’s kind of lopsided and cheeky and it kills me and he knows it.

I slipped into the seat opposite him and removed my jacket. “Thanks,” I replied carefully. “You too,” I added, because it was true. He’d had a haircut that suited him and might have lost a few pounds because his face seemed more chiselled than before but maybe that was just an illusion from the haircut too.

“Thanks.” Slightly awkward silence. “I’m going to grab a drink, want one?”

Suddenly I was parched. “Actually yeah, that’d be great. I’d love a-”

“Lime and lemonade?” He gave a sheepish laugh and accepted my perplexed expression as the affirmative. Then I was sitting alone, mouth still slightly hanging open as I processed what was happening.

Of course it wasn’t particularly surprising that he knew my favourite drink; we were a couple for almost 4 years (if you include the six-month ‘off’ period between Christmas and his birthday) and this was in the not so distant past so it made sense. But for him to actually have the audacity to finish my sentence was quite something else. It should have comforted me with its familiarity but it didn’t. It actually irritated me a little, though of course I would never say it. It was no longer his place to do things like that.

He returned with our drinks whilst I was still silently seething at his niceness. Pathetic, I know. But Joe and I had had enough arguments as a couple that I knew better than to confront him over something this small. And yet, it was always the small things that bothered me the most.

“So,” he said, casually as anything as he sipped at his pint of ale, “how are things?”

How are things. Hmm. Well I’m in massive debt, I’m renting a shared flat with three people I hate, I’m still working as a waitress despite having an engineering degree and I’m single as ever, so that’s how things are. But of course, I said none of this. All I said was, “Yeah not too bad. How about you?”

How did we ever end up at small talk? How did things ever become awkward between us? Not so long ago we were best friends. We have been on holidays together, seen each other naked countless times, shared our deepest secrets and aspirations and fantasies, met each other’s families, made future plans that never came into fruition, loved each other hopelessly. And now we’re sitting in a small pub almost exactly equidistance from each of our respective homes and we’re giving vague answers to vague questions and pretending that we’re just old friends catching up. And all the while I’m looking at him and I’m thinking how stupid it all is. Just like the last time, which we both swore would, in fact, be the last time. Ha.

“Yeah, pretty good,” he responded, rather predictably. “I got a new job.”

I didn’t really have to pretend to be happy for him. “Oh, good,” I smiled. “Doing what?”

“It’s basically a counsellor type thing at a high school, dealing with troubled students and stuff. I’ve only been there a couple of weeks but it’s really great, I love it.”

“Sounds good,” I nodded, even though to me it sounded awful. But he’d always wanted to work with kids and I’d always wanted to stay as far away from them as is physically possible. It was one of the many things we would have fake arguments about; only the playful type of arguments mind you, like when we were in bed and he’d offhandedly say something like, when we have kids... and I’d protest and he’d arrogantly tell me I’d change my mind and I’d say oh I will, will I? and he’d say yes, I can be very convincing and then he’d pin me down and tickle me until I relented and said ok, fine, we’ll have kids, please just stop tickling me before I kick you in the balls so hard that it’ll ensure you’ll never father anyone.

He gave his crooked smile. “It’s great. How about you, still at the restaurant?”

For some reason I thought that if I answered in a roundabout way then it would sound less pathetic. “I’m trying to look for something more suitable,” I said, and it was all rather transparent, “but it’s tough.”

He nodded understandingly which could have been interpreted as patronising if I didn’t know him so well. “Yeah, it is.” He picked up a menu from the stack on our table. “Hungry?”

Surely he knew that I am always hungry. As I perused the menu I guessed that he’d order a lasagne and I knew he guessed that I’d order the chicken burger and we were both right, as it turned out.

As the smiley attractive waitress whom I was ridiculously jealous of (I don’t look that good in an apron and I know Joe definitely fancied her because she was exactly his type in the way that I am not) sauntered off to place our orders to the chef, my phone began to ring.

Muttering a quick sorry across the table, I dug around in the pocket of my leather jacket for just a moment too long, narrowly avoiding having to actually answer my phone. The screen informed me I had a missed call from my housemate, Becca, who probably only wanted to bitch at me about the dirty cereal bowl I’d left to soak in the kitchen sink. Later I would receive a passive-aggressive text to confirm this suspicion.

“Your boyfriend?” Joe said playfully, but in a weird kind of way.

Is it actually possible to be friends with your ex? To sit and have pub lunches together and talk about things and stuff and not wonder why it is that we aren’t together anymore? Is it possible to forget the past 4 or so years and like each other platonically, or will these feelings always be here no matter what? The problem with Joe and I is that we get along so well when we’re not a couple. This is precisely what happened last time. We had a fairly amicable break up because things weren’t going well, and we agreed to be friends, and then slowly but surely we realised how great we were getting on and forgot about all of the issues that led to the ending of our relationship and we just sort of drifted back into it, only to repeat the whole thing a few months later. Was this the lead-up to another ‘on’ period, or was it just lunch?

“One of the many,” I joked half-heartedly as I slid my phone back into my pocket.

The idea of me with even one significant other seemed to amuse him a little more than I’d have liked. “Well,” he said as soon as he’d stopped chuckling at my apparent undateableness, “how many guys is it that I have to beat up?”

My guard came up a little because what the fuck did he think he was saying. There’s joking around as friends and then there’s this. Thankfully to save any more awkwardness, I think he picked up on my discomfort pretty quickly.

“I’m just kidding,” he clarified, and I responded with a nod, and then it was quiet and even more awkward so that’s great. And then he proceeded to make things a hell of a lot worse. “Um, I actually do have a girlfriend these days.”

And wouldn’t you believe it, I didn’t know what to say or how to react so once again I just sort of sat there in a stupor and blinked at him a couple of times and then suddenly of course the hot waitress appeared telling me that chicken burgers were not available today and would I like a beef burger instead and I think I nodded but I can’t be sure; either way she fucked off pretty sharpish and all this time I hadn’t said a word or closed my mouth even and Joe was starting to look kind of concerned.

“Oh,” was all I eventually managed to cough out. That’s it. I was still trying to figure out how I felt about it. I’d always joked that if he ever met another woman who could put up with him then best of luck to them because she’s a more patient person than I. But I always joked about it because I never thought it would happen. I always assumed it would constantly be me and Joe, on and then off until one day we both grew up and decided that yes, we really can make this work if we both put in the effort and communicate and face our problems together logically. Because that’s what happens in the films and shit. Like Ross and Rachel. And I don’t think I was the only one who believed this. Our mutual friends would always ask us if we were together again and my family certainly never gave up hope that it would happen. But here we are. Game changed.

“Yeah, her name is Ellie,” he continued, although I had done nothing to invite it. “She’s great, I think you’d like her.”

I couldn’t help but scoff a little. “Doubt it,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

He gave a wry half-smile and nodded. “Fair point. Anyway, it’s still early days but I thought it’d be better for you to hear it from me than from someone else.”

If I wasn’t still reeling from the shock then I would have appreciated this sentiment. But really, all I could think was, is this really over? Just because he has a new girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s moved on, not really. After all, in our 6 month break I dated other guys but it was still always Joe I was thinking about. Maybe this was just another ‘off’ period or maybe it was for real, who knew?

Finally, I faked the most weak and hopefully convincing smile I could muster. “That’s nice of you,” I said sincerely. “Thanks.”

Joe looked more than relieved. Whichever way the rest of our lunch was going to play out, it would be a little awkward. And I hated that. Really all I wanted was my best friend back, but unfortunately my emotions couldn’t be contained long enough for that to happen. I let them consume me, it’s just who I am. I was still unsure about a lot of things, and would be for quite a while. As much as we had our troubles, I missed being close to Joe. I missed the smell of his shirts and the feel of his hairy legs against my smooth ones as we were cuddling in bed, and the way he cooked my steaks perfectly and the way he hugged me and kissed the top of my head and apologised.

But it was kind of okay, because I still had those memories. Although our relationship could be turbulent, I look back on most of it with much fondness. It was raw and it was real and it was love, of that I am absolutely positive. And just to have loved someone like I loved Joe, made me feel like the luckiest person in the world.

The waitress was back. "I'm sorry, did you say you wanted cheese on your burger?"