Sienna

Coming back to reality after a holiday usually sucks.

Coming back to reality after realising I was harbouring unrequited love for Joe is a whole new level of shit though.

I didn't leave the airport immediately after I ran away from Joe. I hid in a toilet cubicle and cried for about 20 minutes. Then I hid in the pub and cried some more for another hour or so before I finally thought it was safe to get a taxi. Then I cried in the taxi.

I've cried a lot over the past few days.

Gin and "Modern Family" isn't fixing me this time. I've tried wine too. Copious amounts of chocolate. Multiple bubble baths - I had as many as three in one day once. Nothing works.

I haven't seen Kate since the flight. She's still loved up with Jack. We only got back on Wednesday; it's now Monday and she's pretty much been living at his place ever since. So at least it was worth her ditching me, I guess.

How often do holiday romances even turn into more? I wonder. I actually do know a few people who ended up eventually married to folk they met on holiday. It's few and far between though.

I wish it could have worked out for me and Joe.

I know what you're thinking, by the way. You're judging me right now, wondering why I'm acting like there's no way of getting in touch with him.

"Her best friend and his brother are in a relationship now, she could get his number and contact him quite easily, for fucks sake," I can hear you say.

Or "she only lives a couple of streets away from him, hang about long enough and she'll just bloody run into him."

I could do either of these things. I know this. But I'm worried there's no point. Because if he gets bored of me then I'm just back at square one, possibly even more hurt than I already am. Why go chase after him only to end up heartbroken?

Plus it's not like he's been trying to track me down, and maybe that's hurting me too.

I hoped he would realise he couldn't live without me, that I'd find him waiting outside my flat with another bottle of prosecco (I'd even accept flowers I suppose) and make some sort of grand announcement of his everlasting love. That's Dream Scenario A.

Dream Scenario B is slightly lower key: he would just send me a message saying hi, that he missed me. You know, like that message Greg sent me that I didn't even bother to reply to. From Joe, it would mean so much more.

But neither scenario has materialised and I need to accept the fact that he's not interested.

Also to add insult to injury, I'm back at work.

Since the pandemic (mostly) ended, I sometimes work at home and sometimes go into the office. Since me and Greg split up, the office tended to win just so I wasn't alone all the time and, now I'm back from holiday and feeling hopelessly lonely once more, office trumps home again.

It's a good distraction at least, I suppose, getting stuck into my numerous unread emails, trying to establish which tasks I still need to tackle. Going through a version of the same conversation over and over with different colleagues: "yes, I had a great holiday"; "Kefalonia, it's a Greek Island?"; "yeah, it just went way too fast" etc etc.

By mid morning it's like I was never away.

How fucking depressing.

I'm in the kitchen, adding a ginger and lemon teabag to my mug of hot water and half-seriously considering if my employers would let me move to Greece and work remotely, when my best work friend Lindsay appears at my side.

"What's going on?" She asks me bluntly.

"What do you mean?" I play innocent.

"You're not telling me something," she pushes. "I can absolutely read you like a book. What happened on holiday?" Her eyes widen. "Did you . . . Shag someone?"

My blush immediately gives it away.

"Oh my god, tell me everything!" She gasps excitedly.

"There's not that much to tell," I sigh. I prop myself up on a stool at the counter and glance at the TV in the corner. Any further words I was about to say just freeze on my lips as I focus on him.

Joe. Being interviewed on the telly.

I've spent many hours since we parted ways on Google, looking at photos of him, but he still makes me feel swoony. He's clean-shaven today, and he's wearing different glasses - this pair are wire rimmed and might suit him even more than his previous pair. His pale green shirt sets off his tan and brings out the colour of his eyes.

He is totally at ease on camera and utterly gorgeous. And seems absolutely happy and content and experiencing none of the crappy emotions that I am.

I look for the remote to turn the TV up but it is nowhere to be seen and it looks like the segment is coming to an end anyway. Lindsay looks confused at my actions. "Do you know that guy or something?" She asks. She takes another glance at the TV, exhaling a low whistle. "He's hot."

I take a deep breath. "That would be my holiday fling," I announce. And then I burst into tears.

I end up going home early that day, ostensibly to "work from home" but mostly I just end up crying again. The fact Joe was quite clearly not even thinking about me was even more devastating than I thought it might be. I had hoped he might at least have some latent feelings lingering around but I guess that was simply wishful thinking.

I text Kate later that night. Are you free for a couple of drinks one evening this week?x

I want to see her but I also want to see if she knows anything about Joe. I'm a total masochist. A sucker for punishment. I can't help myself.

She takes a few hours to reply. Would Thursday work for you? It's meant to be a nice day - we can sit outside somewhere and pretend we're still on holiday.x

I'd prefer not to have to wait until Thursday but it would be nice to sit in the sun. It's been pretty much raining non-stop since we got back, of course.

I virtually sleep-walk through the next few days. I'm back to the way I was just after Greg, before I went on holiday, almost on auto-pilot.

When Thursday rolls around though, I make an effort. I select the pink dress I last wore on holiday - the night I met Joe, my brain unwillingly reminds me. I can throw a blazer over it for work. I'm excited at the idea of actually going to a pub. I've been so antisocial since I came back. I'm feeling a bit more optimistic - it's amazing the difference sunshine can make to my mindset.

I'm also wondering whether I should ask Kate tonight if she can get Joe's number for me. Maybe I need a bit of closure in order to move on.

Kate has text me to suggest we meet at four at a new pub in the southside. There's a beer garden around the back but because it's new no one really knows the outside bit is there yet. We should get a seat easily.x

I heave a sigh of relief as I leave work and head towards the pub. On my way x I message Kate.

Fab. Come straight through to the back when you get here. A wine is waiting for you x

I push my way into the pub and look for the sign pointing towards the beer garden. The pub itself is relatively empty and the beer garden too only has a handful of people in it. Kate is right.

Kate is also - I realise belatedly - nowhere in sight.

I stop in the doorway and scan the few occupied tables, focusing solely on spotting my best friend. She's definitely not there.

Surely she hasn't stood me up?

My eyes fall on a table directly opposite where I'm standing. There's a glass of white wine - a nice large one, looking very inviting - sitting there without an owner. I track my gaze upwards, towards the proprietor of the pint sitting across from the unclaimed wine.

And that's when I spot him.

I wonder who the owner of the pint could possibly be . . .

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