Romilly Taylor doesn't 'do' love. She's been burned before and has no intention of ever putting her heart on the line like that again. Keeping everyone at a safe distance, she figured, if she doesn't fall in love, she can't get hurt.
But then Franc...
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While this Jonah bloke read the news and gave everyone an update on the World Cup, I took the time to leave the room, heading to my handbag so I could grab a bottle of water. While I was chugging the liquid down, I seized my phone and saw that I had hundreds of text messages waiting for me, mainly from my family and Mel, each giving me their opinion about what I was saying on the radio.
My mum's text stood out when she told me not to be afraid of being in a relationship just because her marriage to my father hadn't worked out. I rolled my eyes. As if I'd let their shitshow actually influence any relationship I have had or would ever have. I mean, come on. Mum and Dad were toxic to each other. Yes, their divorce was painful and ugly but truthfully, it was the best thing either of them did for the other.
Michael and my sisters were having a heated debate in the sibling Whatsapp group with Michael and Nina being the eternal romantics while Helena stuck up for me and told them that she could totally understand where I was coming from. Isabella, of course, was being her usual sarcastic bitch self and would switch sides just to see how much shit she could stir amongst the others. They cottoned on to her pretty quickly and demanded that she say out of it until she was old enough to understand what the 'grown-ups' were talking about. Isabella hadn't taken that lying down and swiftly shot back that, just because she's only fifteen, doesn't mean that she can't relate. Then she gave her two pence worth and then told them that she was disowning them all until I was back and then she might- MIGHT- give them another chance at being super siblings towards her.
The final text I was willing to read was Mel's. She knows me better than I know myself and has been on this whole Francis rollercoaster with me since the first day, which made me curious to see what she thought about me airing it all in public. Some of the highlights of her texts included:
ARE YOU CRAZY?!
JESUS CHRIST, ROMY, THAT WAS HARSH DON'T YOU THINK!
I'M SERIOUS- STOP TALKING.
WHY DID YOU JUST SAY THAT?
IF YOU'RE LOOKING AT REALLY MESSING THINGS UP BETWEEN YOU AND FRANCIS, CONGRATULATIONS, QUEEN- YOU ARE SUCCEEDING.
WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL HIM WHY YOU DON'T WANT TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP? BE HONEST WITH HIM. SAVE HIM- AND YOURSELF- SOME HEARTACHE. I MEAN IT.
It infuriates me when Mel does the following: texts in CAPSLOCK and talks sense. The first because I can imagine her shouting all the words at me, and the second because when she starts talking sense, I feel like an A-grade bitch. I get that I'm screwing things up between me and Francis by speaking the brutal truth but this is what he wanted. I cannot be held responsible if he doesn't like what he hears. I can't make it any clearer that he's known what I'm like for years. None of this should come as a shock to him.
"Chelsea needs you back in the studio," Francis' assistant, India, tells me as she comes barging into the green room and gives me a death stare. It's common knowledge around here that India fancies Francis and if it weren't for me, she would have put the moves on him a long time ago. "We're going back on the air in thirty seconds."
Nodding, I chuck my phone back into my bag, drink another mouthful of water and head back to the studio. I make it just in time, placing my headphones back on just as Chelsea greeted her audience once again. "Dating in modern times can be difficult," she tells them. "As we heard from Romy, there's a lot of things going on- cuffing season and drafting season, ghosting and zombieing, peacocking and thirst trapping, keeping people on the hook, using them as a layby and having a snack pack at hand. Listeners, does any of this sound familiar to you? Well, it sounded familiar to our next caller, Lauren. Hi, Lauren, so am I right in saying that you've gone through some of that?"
"Absolutely," Lauren shouted down the line, her voice angry. "This sounds like my dating life in a nutshell, except, I'm not the one dishing it out. I'm on the receiving end of it all. Seriously, why do we live in a world full of little boys and not men, huh? A man wouldn't play games with you. A man wouldn't make you feel worthless. A man would suck it up and put his feelings on the line if he was really interested. All the males don't so jack like that. They play with your feels like little boys. And from what your homegirl, Romy, is saying, she's just a little girl playing at being a woman."
Her assessment was harsh but I don't feel as if her words were aimed at me. That said, my mouth kind of ran away with me. "It's not my fault that you were gullible enough to believe the false promises some bloke made to you," I tell her. "What everyone seems to forget is that I was honest. I've never promised a man anything that I wasn't really willing to give him. If I had told them that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them, only to then go and behave like this, then yeah, I'd hold my hands up and accept the attitude I'm receiving but I didn't do that. I'm being put on trial, having to defend myself, but in this story, there's more than just me. Maybe the guy should come in here and tell his side of the story, too."
