Trigger Warnings: swearing, breakup
I found you sitting by the bonfire at the secret beach in your black filmmaking society hoodie. The word BLACKSTAR was printed proudly on the back in pure white. Bowie was always one of your favourites. You stared at the fire, poking it slightly with a stick. You hadn’t seen me yet.
I cleared my throat awkwardly.
‘Hi,’ I started.
You turned around, smiling. You reached your hand out at me and beckoned with your finger. I sat down next to you on the log and you held me close in your arms. We sat there in silence for a moment, watching the fire crackling and spitting.
‘I think I found a decent place in Edinburgh.’ You said.
‘Yeah? What’s the rent?’
‘£800 per month.’
‘Ouch.’ I inhaled sharply.
‘Honestly, I think we could make it work.’
‘Yeah. I just hate how expensive everything is.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘But if we both manage to find work and keep freelancing we could definitely figure it out, I think.’
‘Sounds good.’
There was another silence. I could feel my heart beating faster. I hate silences. They make my anxiety go crazy.
‘I think I might have found an internship.’
‘Yeah? Where is it?’
‘London.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Why are all the publishing internships in London?’
‘That’s just the way it is. It’s the London bubble. All of the work experience and internships are over there and there’s fuck all anywhere else. And most of them aren’t even paid.’
‘That’s brutal. Is the one you found paid?’
‘Ha.’
‘I’ll take that as a no.’
‘That’s publishing for you.’
‘Do you think it’ll be worth it, though?’
I paused. I stared into the fire again, as if I expected it to tell me what to say.
‘Yeah, I think so. It’s a small publishing house, but they’re pretty well-known in the industry, so I’m hoping it’ll look good on my CV.’
‘Well, that’s good!’
‘If I even get it, yeah.’
You held me closer.
‘I’m sure you will.’
Another pause.
‘How long does it last?’
‘One month.’
‘Hmmm.’
‘I’ll have to Airbnb it.’
‘What about rent though?’
‘I’ll keep freelancing while I’m over there. And I’ll try to save up my wages from the job I’m in now.’
‘That sounds stressful.’
‘Yeah. But I think it’ll be a great opportunity.’
‘And then we can live together again.’
‘Yeah.’ I smiled, leaning my head on your shoulder.
In that moment, I suddenly got a vivid flashback of the day we first met. It was freshers’ week and some society had invited everyone to a Doctor Who screening at a guy’s house. When my friends and I arrived, the room was already dark and packed. We awkwardly walked in and apologised with shushed voices as we made our way to the sofa at the back. I sat down and looked towards the TV. That was when I saw you for the first time. You were sitting right beside it. You had your long dark hair in a ponytail and you were wearing your white hoodie with the diamond print. I remember thinking that you had a really nice jawline and I couldn’t stop looking at it. I couldn’t stop looking at you. You didn’t really notice me until I properly introduced myself a few weeks later, though.
We spent all of our first year together, going to those Doctor Who screenings each week and commenting on each other’s Facebook posts. I would talk to you about Life is Strange and Undertale and you would talk to me about dodie and Tomska. We started watching Star Wars together and laughed at the bad acting and special effects. It felt like we were made for each other. I was so sure that you were going to be in my life forever. I still remember the first birthday present I gave you (black guitar plectrums painted gold with tiny cogs and gears stuck on them) and the first time you hugged me (right after I gave you the plectrums). I can still remember the first birthday present you gave me (a Daenerys Targaryen poster and a Hogwarts notebook) and the second time you hugged me (right after you gave me the poster and notebook).
Four years later there we were, sitting by a bonfire on the beach, talking about our first flat together. How time flies! It didn’t feel like it had been four years at all.
You were my first. I hoped we would stay together for years.
None of this really happened.
You’re not the person I thought you were.
I haven’t spoken to you in years.
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