‘Not quite yet,’ I admit.
‘Well, I’m here if you want me,’ he says, and the look he’s giving me makes me melt like candlewax. Whatisgoing on here?
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I mean it.’
‘No problem, Moss.’ With that, he picks up his remote and flicks through sitcom options on his screen.
I lean back against my headrest and shut my eyes, grateful for the time and space to decompress. There’s so much to consider.
Hamish has let me down again. I don’t understand it. How can something that was once so good become something so difficult to get up and running a second time around? Of course, I understand that we’ve grown up and grown apart. There’s so much life between us now that we’re bound to have changed – I’m not stupid. But now I’m starting to get this niggling feeling that Hamish was always like this, even back then, and somehow I’d forgotten it along the way. Did I spend so long looking back with my rose-tinted glasses on that I managed to alter my recollection of what he was actually like? Make it better than it really was?
Because right now, I’m not even sure that I like Hamish anymore. I certainly don’t want to rekindle a relationship with him. For the longest time I’ve thought that Hamish was the one that got away. Going back to our beautiful relationship would be the cherry on the cake. It would mean that my lacklustre love life was finally living up to all the other, really good, elements of my life. But even if Hamish had turned up on this flight and been exactly the man I remember, he’s made it quite clear that Australia is his home now. So even at a simple, logistical level, there’s no way we could make a relationship work if we lived on other sides of the world. And I am not in the market for uprooting my lovely London life. I love living with Penny and spending Saturday mornings eating fresh cinnamon buns at our local café. There’s no way I’m swapping that. I’m so lucky to have this life I have. Or rather,had.
And, practicalities aside, every single time I try to reconnectwith Hamish, he’s let me down. I’m starting to wonder if he’s my way out of this mess at all.
Now that life is one eternal Monday I’d assumed that Fate had brought Hamish back to make me see what I needed to do to fix my problems. To focus on my love life for a little bit.
Here’s your ex-boyfriend, make a go of it again!
Only now I’m starting to fear that Iwaslooking at my old life through rose-tinted glasses. Sure, we had fun, but I think I must have glossed over the annoying bits to create this dream world for myself. No one has ever compared to Hamish because I haven’t let them. And now I wonder if he’s not that great, after all.
Now I wonder if he’s actually kind of a douche.
So, what next? Absentmindedly I stare out of the tiny cabin window. I’m literally flying into the future, cruising through time zones at high altitude. The thought makes my head spin. Outside is an endless blanket of cloud, like a cotton wool spillage. And on the horizon, nothing but brilliant blue sky.
How am I going to get out of this loop if it’s not with Hamish by my side? Or am I meant to carry on pursuing Hamish, questionable sandwich dependency and all? Is hereallymy only way out of here? Am I meant to give it one more shot with him, perhaps? Because it’s so incredibly strange that I’ve got stuck in this loop at a time in my life where the only thing that needed some improvement was my love life. It can’t be a coincidence, can it? Here the world is, offering up my dream man on a plate for me to right my wrongs and get back on track.
I snap my eyes shut, struggling to make sense of any of it. I guess the Hamish of today was an improvement on Monday Two. If I’m going to have to endure a Monday Five, will he be better again then? Is that what’s happening here? Just a gradual improvement of Hamish until he really is back to the man IthinkI remember so well?
And also, very much as a side note, why oh why does my mind keep snagging on the moment where Callum held my hand earlier?
Why is life so confusing right now?!
‘I have no idea,’ Callum replies to the question I thought I asked in my head.
‘Did I say that out loud?’ I whisper. Not sure today could get any more humiliating, to be honest.
‘Yes, you did, Moss.’ He’s squinting at me, the sun pouring in through the window to my left. Then he does this strange nodding motion, like he’s agreeing with a thought.
‘What?’ I ask, ever eloquent.
‘Nothing.’
‘No, come on! What were you nodding about?’
He shades his eyes as he looks over again, his hand casting a shadow over his glasses.
‘Just thinking that your hair really suits you like that.’ He shrugs. ‘I hope you paid no attention to what Humphrey was saying back there. Sorry if I’m overstepping but, God, what an ass.’
I bite my lip.
‘He is a bit of an ass. You think puffy suits me, then?’ I ask, flicking my hair behind my shoulders.
‘It’s not puffy.’ Callum clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ‘What does he know?’
‘I’m starting to wonder the same,’ I admit.
‘You want to talk about it now?’
