As I sit in London Heathrow Airport, my mind is racing, never in a million years did I imagine I would take the leap, I am about to travel 3459 miles to meet a guy I have never met, crazy right? The only crazy thing about it is that I feel like I know him better than I know myself. For the last 7 months we have been messaging back and forth, face timing, texting, but it all started when Mark slid into my DM’s one fateful night.
7 months ago
Getting in from work, I kick off my heels and go to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of white. I get myself a glass and pour generously. Fed up with my life, it’s just groundhog day I wake up, I go to work; I come home, Netflix, bed and repeat. Never thought that at twenty-five this would be my life, It’s a Friday night, I should be out enjoying myself, I can’t even remember the last time I went out and let my hair down. Not to sound conceited, but I can grab the male attention. I’m 5 foot 7 inches, I have long brown hair, big brown eyes and curves in all the right places. I know exactly how to dress for my body shape, but here’s the problem. It’s the men I attract, how do I put it nicely there, all dicks. They’re either married, got a girlfriend, or only want a one-night stand. Don’t even get me started on online dating. The conversation starts well and then boom! The ever unwanted dick pic pops up in my inbox. That is not a metaphor.
I get dressed in my comfy’s and curl up on the sofa with the rest of my bottle of wine along with some crispy shredded chicken from The Peking Garden. I get lost in the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. Have to admit Chris Pratt is looking mighty fine these days, I look down at my phone and see it’s nearly midnight. As I tidy the empty bottle and Chinese cartons away, my phone tings. What the hell, who is messaging me at this time of night? I pick up my phone as the screen lights up.
*notification Mark_Hart84 wants to send you a message*
Curiosity gets the better of me and I open the message. “Hi, do you have time for a chat?”
What the hell this could pass some time, I wasn’t even tired anyway I type back. “Yeah, sure what’s on your mind?”
I patiently wait as I see the word “typing” in the bottom right corner. “I can’t stop thinking about you?”
Here we go, well let’s have some fun with this. “Oh, really what do you think about?”
I decide to open another bottle of wine and get comfy on the couch. It’s been a while since someone has slid into my DM’s, you know what happens next, are you single? Yes, can you send me a picture? So I play along. What kind of pictures would you like? Naked, well, of course, that’s what you want so I play along fully clothed, turn the lights off to take a picture, send. The snappy reply of I can’t see it’s dark, having had my fun I send one last reply all you asked for was a naked picture you didn’t say lights on or off, BLOCK.
Next time, Hi there you’re beautiful, some light conversation and then the real reason they message. I need help can you get me a wallet card? Here we go, yeah sure no problem let me just look into that for you, BLOCK. As I reminisce about my experience’s. I see Mark_Hart 84 has replied again.
“I think about how good you would feel right now.” I type back, playing along.
“How do you think I would feel?” Just as I was waiting on some sexy reply back his next words shocked me.
“Why did you cheat on me? Was I not good enough?” Well, this is new to me. Is this some freaky role play? I struggle with what to say, I type and delete at least four times before he beats me to it.
“Never mind, I shouldn’t have messaged you.” Ok, just mark this one as weird. I climb into bed and try to fall asleep, but something about this has rattled me. Tossing and turning every so often looking at the clock it’s just after 3 am I can’t take it, I grab my phone and open the conversation re-reading it trying to make sense of it I finally decide to send him a reply, it can be on the only explanation. I finally decide to send him a reply.
“Hi, about our conversation earlier, I don’t think you were messaging the right person or this may be a role play kink you’re into. I’m still not sure, but if you want to chat I’m here.”
It’s been a long week at work, I’m not in the mood to be dealing with people right now, I decide, after work to go drown my sorrows at the bar. Tomorrow is going to be a shit day, it was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, that was until I got home from work a few weeks back, to find my fiancee with her bags packed, telling me she no longer loved me and the wedding was off, my gut told me there was someone else, so I pleaded with her to tell me the truth and four words collapsed my entire world “I love someone else”. I couldn’t quite understand my reaction at the time I was calm, I was collected she handed me back the engagement ring I had bought her, picked up her bags and walked out of our apartment never looking back. As I stood clutching the engagement ring, I should have realised this was the calm before the storm. Looking back that night Blake walked out, was the beginning of what I’m guessing was the 5 stages of grief.
The first few days I was in stage one, denial. In my head she was only gone on a mini-break and would be back, a lot of her stuff was still in the apartment so nothing felt different, then a few days after that, she came by boxed her life up and she loaded up a van. As I looked around my half-empty apartment, that’s when stage two hit, anger, I was pissed at everyone and everything. No one could get through to me when they told me it would get better, and I was better off without her. When we had to organise cancelling the wedding stage three began, bargaining. I begged Blake to make things work; I suggested counselling,
I said I would make more of an effort, she just kept saying that it was too late. Then we have right now and it’s safe to say I am between stage three and stage four, depression.
As I finish up at the office, I make my way to the bar. I grab a stool and ask the bartender for a whiskey and to keep them coming. The more I drink, the more I miss Blake. Pulling out my phone, I scroll through Instagram. I look back at our old photos; the drink ruling my head right now as I decide in my wisdom to send her a DM. It was like truth serum, I just blurt out the first thing that comes to me. When she replies, I am surprised at how open she is to talking, normally she would just dismiss me. As the conversation goes on, I realise it is a huge mistake and backtrack saying I shouldn’t have messaged her. At that point, I realise that I need to stop drinking, go home and sober up. Throwing a few bills down on the bar, I pull myself together and grab an uber home. As I sit there looking out the window, I thought about that word “Home” it didn’t feel like home anymore everything reminded me of her. As I enter the apartment I look around it just feels cold and empty, I look at the clock it has just turned 10 pm. I make a fresh pot of coffee to try and sober myself up. I hear my phone ping on the counter, I go over and pick it up, I have a notification, I have a message from Blake.
I brace myself for Blake’s response. When I open the message, my heart stops. The wrong person. I click on the picture at the top of the screen, how did I not notice I was messaging the wrong girl, the only thing that is the same is the long brown hair and the same first name. It would appear that blake.blair.uk is not my ex.
She is beautiful, thankfully her profile isn’t private, there isn’t much content. When I was searching for MY Blake, I must have accidentally clicked this Blake and in my drunken state messaged her instead. Fuck, what do I say, do I ignore her? No, that wouldn’t be fair. Without her replying, I would never have realised I fucked up and messaged the wrong person. Hovering my fingers over the keys, I think long and hard about what I want to write.
“Hi, I am so sorry I messaged you by mistake I got the wrong Blake, please, accept my sincerest apologies.” Setting my phone back down, I’m surprised when I hear my phone ping again.
Picking it up the other Blake replies. “Does this chat up conversation normally work for you, cause this is pretty new to me?”
I feel my body heat with embarrassment. “No, it was a genuine mistake, I’m sorry I will leave you alone now,” she replies.
“Don’t apologise for what it’s worth I’m sorry she cheated, look at the positive you could have messaged the real Blake and made a right tit of yourself :)”
I laugh to myself if anything the girl has a sense of humour and for the first time in a long time; she takes my mind off the shit show that is my life. I don’t know why but I didn’t want to end the conversation with her, So as I drink my coffee still feeling the effects of the alcohol I decide to use it as dutch courage and keep talking with this Blake.
“It would have been a pretty big tit. Thank you for making me laugh.” She replies immediately.
“Anything I can do to help if you don’t mind me saying for someone who cheated on you, you are extremely nice to her. I can’t say I would be nice with my words if someone fucked about behind my back.”
Keeping the conversation going. “In my defence, I think that is mainly the alcohol talking, I have had a couple of tough weeks. The drink seemed like the best solution. Not my best life choice considering that I slid into your DM’s by mistake.”
Blake answers. “Everything happens for a reason, maybe it’s fate that we are talking to each other, although it is late and I should be sleeping”
“Yeah, I suppose 11 pm is kinda late sorry for keeping you,” I agree.
I watch for her reply “Mark, I’m in the UK its 4 am in London”
I apologise “Sorry, I am such an ass, please go, don’t let me keep you.”
Not wanting this to be the last we speak. “Maybe we could chat some more, sometimes, you know if you fancy it?”
I smile as I look at her reply. “Yeah, I would like that. You busy tomorrow?”
I smile as I write back to her. “Tomorrow it is, but maybe we could pick an earlier time!” I make a mental note to become accustomed to the UK time difference before I send her off one last message.
“Ok, Night Blake” and just like that the conversation ends with,