My fingers are jittery when I type.
Please… I might sound crazy, but I need this. I’ve always needed this.
Please help me feel alive again.
I’m not seeking a psycho, just someone who can help me feel alive again.
I can’t face looking at my updated profile with its little green online icon, so I close the laptop as soon as I’m done. I sit on my bed in the tiny apartment I hoped would feel like home by now, my knees pulled up to my chest as I stare at the patterns the streetlights make on the wall.
And then my phone pings.
Once, twice, and then again.
My email is on fire. My nerves are burning as I scroll through the early responses. But they’re shit.
Hey babe. Ur hot.
Wot you up to sexy?
Love your pic. Gonna fuck you up good.
No.
No, no and definitely no.
How big are your tits?
You wanna get fucked real good?
Wanna cam?
And on and on they keep coming. A sea of idiots who haven’t even bothered to read my profile.
My outpouring feels pointless, my confession nothing but a potential in for jerks looking to get their dicks wet.
I flop back onto my bed with a sigh, and then I laugh. It’s one of those self-deprecating laughs that almost makes me reach for the how to heal your broken heart books on my nightstand.
What the fuck is happening to me? Really?
My dick is ten inches. Wanna see?
You like girl on girl?
And then I get my first dick pic. It’s blurry and from a crappy angle that make his balls look too big. Show me your pussy.
One day, when life is good again, I’m going to confess this stupid evening to whoever my new best friend here happens to be, and they’ll laugh and I’ll laugh and I’ll show them these messages and all the crappy requests I got. They’ll call me crazy and I’ll smile and say I was, and this will all be a distant memory.
He’ll be a distant memory too.
But not today. Today these messages are all for me.
Maybe these messages are the universe’s way of answering my deepest fantasies. At least the universe has the sense of humour I’ve been lacking lately.
Ur one hot dirty bitch.
Do you take it up the ass?
Maybe a Friday night wasn’t the best time to post a new online advert.
I head through to my tiny kitchenette in my PJs and flick on the kettle to make myself a tea. I should’ve gone out with the girls from work, maybe I’d have found a real friend here. Hell knows I need a real friend here.
I’m about to put my phone on silent to stop the endless pings when it pings again.
I’m figuring it’s another cheap one-liner, maybe even another dick pic, but the message surprises me.
Phoenix Burning the username reads. What happened to you?
My heart skips at the question.
I’ve been waiting for it to come for so long. My tongue is parched, desperate to speak the truth. My soul screams for someone to hear me.
His picture is in darkness. There’s only a hint of his face. He looks stern. Serious. Brooding.
Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see.
I take my tea back through to the bedroom and fire my laptop back up. I read it again on screen, those four little words. I stare at his picture like it could be my salvation, weighing things up. Weighing up how much I really want this.
And then I type…PhoenixI’ve been on this site sporadically for the past three months. I’ve never messaged anyone. Never even found anything that offers a passing interest.
The profiles are a blur to me – pictures all blending into one.
None of them ever make me pause.
Until now.
I guess the weekends are the hardest. The nights when I’ve finally got Cameron settled to sleep after a long week, when I’ve said goodnight and prayed this is the night he’ll say it back. When Serena has gone to bed and I’m still wide awake, alone with my own company.
Lonely.
I haven’t been out socially since Mariana passed away, not between taking care of Cam and getting the business back up from its knees. I’ve not once taken Serena up on her offer of staying up late in case Cameron wakes up while I’m off out somewhere.
I haven’t wanted to meet anyone. Not like that.
I still don’t want to meet anyone like that.
I just want…
Fuck.
I slouch back in my chair, the profile still on my screen.
I just want…
I just want to feel alive again.
I’ve never been one to hide from the truth, and the truth is that a woman like Mariana was never going to be my forever. I’d have given anything to make it so, but even if she hadn’t run off that night it would’ve been some other night down the road.
A woman like Mariana was never meant to settle down in this sleepy town with a man like me. She was never meant to play happy families in sweet suburbia.