We were at a party for your friends birthday, at this big beautiful, expensive pub. The music plays and I ask you to dance. You hold my hand and lead me to the dance floor. This moment feels magical. You spin me around and I feel like I’m floating in the air. Our first dance. And then you leave. I look for you and you’re out on the floor spinning all the other girls we came with. Yes, they’re your friends. Of course, I understand.
I don’t know anyone else there. I stand alone by the glass, . I meet a couple of older women. Beautiful. Bold. Brilliant. They’re who I want to be in another twenty years. I finally find my way back to the table. You don’t seem to have noticed that I was gone. Now, another one of your friends is crying on your shoulder about her boyfriend. How she misses him and she wished he was more like you. Yes, they’re your friends. Of course, I understand.
You come to me and say that you need to talk. I listen. You say that you’re too young to settle down. You say that you have a bucketlist to finish. That I can’t be the last girl you sleep with. I listen. You say that you can’t beleive that you could talk to me. You tell me that you had scheduled meetings with your friends – friends I hadn’t met yet, to discuss our problems. Yes, they’re your friends. Of course, I understand.
A friend of yours walks in. ‘Hi’ I say. She ignores me as her foot coyly rub against yours. I go to the bar to get myself a drink. I come back to see her sitting on your lap. Then, you tell me that you used to have a fling back in the day. Yes, they’re your friends. Of course, I understand.
It’s late and we’re drunk. We’re crashing at a friends pad. Amidst the laughter and the conversation, you absent-mindedly call her babe. I laugh it off. Yes, they’re your friends. Of course, I understand.
Victoria Donner 