No, no, no.
I told her emphatically…he fancied me for years, we had a “thing” but didnt actually have anything and now just as friends, he wants to go for a casual drink.
It’s too familiar, too weird. Again I told my friend (who for some very strange reason was VERY pro- reunion) that it was a no.
After a couple of vodkas, a gentle reminder of this bloody challenge and a good hour’s worth of coercion I finally agreed.
So, I went for said bloody drink. Yes, as predicted, it was as awkward as I had assumed. We both knew of shared past feelings, we both knew everything about one another- yet here I was four years after we were close…making very awkward small talk. Funny how life does that to you, don’t you think? You can spend hours each night DEVOURING every word he said, being his shoulder to cry on and just generally being incredibly close. A few years spent drifting apart and before you know it BAM you’re back doing the niceties and cringey small talk. In fact, it’s worse than being just strangers….because between the two of you exists this weird knowledge. A kind of what should have and could have been. THANK GOD IT NEVER WAS.
I nipped to the loo when given half the chance. What was I thinking?!? Some things need to be left alone. This was one of them. I texted my meddling friend. “BAD IDEA.” That was all I put.
We didn’t get very drunk. Certainly not drunk enough.
We parted ways and leant in for an awkward hug.
That was it.
Facing up to the past can be scary, but sometimes it is necessary. It clears the air. It provides closure.
With hindsight, it wasn’t that terrible. The conversation flowed somewhat, we had a bit of a laugh, I suppose. It just didn’t live up to expectations. I never liked him as much as he liked me, but still I didn’t want him to actively go off me, as it were. But he had. I kind of hoped, if truth be known, that the chemistry we once had, was still there. It wasn’t.