The Night We Met

Jay

She never went home and replayed every single kiss they had in her head. The first time they kissed in his messy car right outside of her sisters building, she'd thought to herself "hm". It was a kiss that held the promise of nothing but she convinced herself everything would happen. He tasted sweet, like the mysterious purple juice he'd been drinking on the way there, a hint of the cigarette he smoked an hour ago was also there. He placed his palm right at the top of her chest as if he was unsure if he was allowed to be bolder. She kissed him because she hadn't been kissed in months and wanted nothing more than to feel someone's lips against hers. There were no explosions but she thought with more practice there could be some, the kiss to her held possibility. Later that day he told her she tasted like the beer he'd given her to drink and that he loved it.

She didn't replay this kiss in her head over and over that night. There was no butterfly in her stomach or flutter in her heart. It was a good kiss though so she wondered why. She had to see him again, to see if this time sparks would fly when their lips touched. On the day of their second kiss he kept her waiting for two hours. He probably had a lot going on, she thought. She was nothing if not patient. That day he drove her to a close and kissed her in his car again, with children playing right outside on the streets. This time he didn't hesitate to touch her chest and explore wherever she let his hands roam. The excitement of making out in broad daylight made her happy. It was fun, he was fun. He was handsome and seemed to like her. His lack of effort could be explained away easily, it was just really nice to be felt up after a long time.

They kissed many more times after that, each time blending into the last, each time he tried to take it further and each time she turned him down. They talked a lot between this, texting and laughing. She felt maybe she really had found someone and she let herself open up, something she was careful about doing. She began making excuses for his lack of effort though. He wasn't being malicious, that's just the way his brain works. He didn't forget about you, he's just been busy. She knew what it was for life and mental health to get in the way of things so she told herself she would be accommodating. Every-time she brought up her concerns about his lack of interest he would tell her "I want this to work" and she would believe him, because why not? Why would you go out of your way to be with someone and tell them how much you want it to work if you didn't? That seemed like insanity to her.

They had barely been dating a month and it felt like years to her. She was exhausted. Thoughts of him consumed her which she felt was ironic because her phone hadn't lit up with a text from him in days. Sometimes your body reacts to your pain before your mind does. She deleted his number and was tempted to block his socials but decided to at least confront him, so she did. Then she vented to her friend about how much she didn't want to be in the relationship anymore. That night he called her four times and begged her to pick up. She didn't but he sent texts apologising. Her phone was finally glowing and it was because of him. She briefly considered how she would explain it to her friend whom she'd spent the last hour complaining about him to that she was going to give him another chance. After all, he was sorry.

The next morning she warmed up to him and responded to his texts, basking in the joy of him actually replying her messages. That joy was short lived though when he abruptly stopped in the middle of a conversation. She counted the hours as they went by and tried not to let her emotions envelope her. He wasn't going to text her, he had no intention of doing so. She deleted his number and decided to close the chapter on him for good. It had been less than a month.