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A week passed. I was so depressed that I had resorted to eating Haagen-Dazs Cookies and Cream, which was only ever reserved for really special and happy occasions.

It wasn’t just the sex I was missing, or the grip of Josh’s arms around me, it was just the fact that I had become so isolated from the world at such a young age. The parents were still in Malta on holiday. My brother was in Leeds at University. There was no lover. There was no-one.

I turned on one of the MacBooks (the one I used for myself, not for work) and signed onto messenger. I had 120 out of 340 contacts online. I really needed to clear out. 40 of them I didn’t even know.

Messages from Darren popped up.
‘Hey!’
‘How are you?’
I had to respond to this, not the 10 other people that were pestering me.
‘I’m fine, I saw you when I was in Starbucks the other day!’
‘Yeah I know!! I didn’t see you but I could sense your presence lmao.’
I laughed at that.
‘I was shopping for your birthday.’
God. My Birthday, when was that? Erm..it was a couple of weeks away at least.
‘Really? How lovely.’
He was lovely, that was the least of the nicest adjectives I could have used. Sexy? Attractive? Gorgeous? That was my problem, I could never get relationships because I could never flirt or suggest stuff, and then once I’m in one the other half usually loses interest because I’m not quite as thin as I look on the internet, or because I’m so obsessively compulsively having to have everything my way. That was the cause of most teenage arguments I ever had before I moved out. Leaving mum crying and dad standing in disbelief on the doorstep.
‘Anytime.’ He wrote.
‘I really ought to get invites started sometime soon, otherwise no-one will be able to come.’
‘lol’
Little did he know that that wasn’t actually a joke.