Regret Me

Flashing lights

"Short hair really suits you," I exhaled, looking at Vanessa as she stood in the doorway of her childhood home.

"No, it doesn't," she laughed out her nose, "I hate it so much."

"It's cute," I giggled, taking her into a hug and holding her tightly, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she sighed, hugging me back and closing the door behind me, "how have you been?"

"I think I should be asking you that Miss early mid-life crisis," I laughed, pulling away and running my hand through her short brunette locks.

"I'm fine," she smiled weakly, "tea?"

"Please," I exhaled, following her into the kitchen, "is your mum home?"

She hummed a no and popped down the kettle before turning back to face me, "she's out at Pilates or something ... seems like I'm not the only one having a crisis."

I laughed out my nose and nodded slowly, "how's work going?"

She exhaled shakily and shrugged her shoulders, "this whole grief thing doesn't get easier ... does it?"

I shook my head and gave her a sad smile, "you'll learn to live with it though."

"I don't want to live with it," she admitted, turning around to make the teas, "if I live with it then it means I'm not thinking about him as much and then ... what's left?"

"His memory, his love for you," I replied, "you've still got loads of good to remember him by."

"I know," she sighed, handing me a mug, "I can just tell this year is going to suckkk."

"It's not going to feel good," I agreed with a small nod, moving over to the lounge and taking a seat with her next to me.

She hummed and nodded, looking down into her cup of tea, "how's it going with Lizzie?" she asked me.

"Really well," I smiled, thinking about my girlfriend who was halfway across the globe, "we're moving in together this year at some point anddd we've been talking about kids so ... yeah, it's going very well. Are you still seeing that guy?"

"No," she shook her head, "I don't think I'm very attracted to men actually."

"How long did it take you to realise that?" I giggled.

"About three months into having sex with one," she laughed.

I hummed and nodded quickly, "sex with men is awful after you know what gay sex is like."

"Exactly my thoughts," she laughed out her nose, "so I've been on Hinge and Tinder and I'm working on finding myself a sexy masculine lesbian who doesn't constantly wear a top knot."

"Good luck with that one Ness," I smirked, sipping my drink.

"It's so hard," she laughed.

"This is why I only go for feminine girls," I smiled.

"Yeah, but you can pull a feminine girl because you're like ... dominant," she argued.

"Am I?" I laughed.

"Are you?!" she quirked, "you're literally the definition of a lesbian."

"Thanks?" I giggled.

"You're so welcome," she chuckled, "I look straight so gay girls don't even try and hit on me."

"Maybe you need to hit on them," I suggested.

"There is no way I'm going to be able to flirt first," she replied, "I do not have it in me."