Day 8: VIP

Who is the most important person in your life – and how would your day-to-day existence be without them?

Depressing much? I don’t want to think about the most important person in my life not being here, jeez.

Well, it’s my bf Dan as most of you might have figured. And so I’m going to write this post as if I never met him.

She turned down the invite to the office Christmas party – she didn’t particularly call any of her coworkers people she’d like to hang out with, anyway. It was a shame, because her job was pretty amazing – something she’d always wanted to do really, and she had to pinch herself sometimes to realise she was doing something she loved. The hours were longer than usual, but the pay was really good – it had to be – so she liked to save up and go on holiday with her flatmate from time to time. And she’d just bought that swish new car! It was her second in two years, but she got bored of the old one already, and when you had the money, why not?

She wasn’t all that rich, considering. She liked to go shopping and just randomly pick up a few nice things, a bag or a pair of shoes here and there. Most of her money went on the cat, because she loved to spoil him.

She thinks back to her uni days, when she was stuck in a pokey flat – she has a house now! Sometimes she’ll invite her friends over for cocktails and films and they’ll bitch about their boyfriends. And then when they leave, she’ll feel happy and content and aching from all the laughing. She’ll load the dishwasher and feed her cat and maybe watch her TV shows on her laptop. Her boyfriend will be texting her to come over, but she’d get annoyed at him for being so needy – and besides, she already saw him twice this week – why so pushy?!

At about half ten, before she has to go to bed, she’ll take a break from watching a programme to make a cup of tea. The cat will come and snuggle on her lap, and as she goes to watch the next episode of The Hills, she opens her folder called “writing.”

She goes into it, and scrolls past all the unfinished projects, the half-formed stories. She toys with the idea of starting a blog, but quickly banishes the thought. “No-one thinks I’m good enough anyway” she thinks.

She clicks out of the folder, but sits there, not doing anything. She lets her tea go luke-warm, so it’s drinkable, but not satisfying.

That’s what she could definitely put her finger on. Something she rarely had. Satisfaction. She had all this free time, but never felt productive. She had this boyfriend, but never felt like he was her companion, her partner.

She taps the laptop absent-mindedly.
She seemed to have everything. But here in her big house, there was too much space.

She filled her life with all this stuff, but still felt lost – as though she was still waiting for something, and he’d never arrived.




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