oops, i did it again
when you accidentally find yourself in a situationship
The girl at the bakery is now one of my favorite new additions to my Roman social circle. She has the coolest style, and can actually pull off the combination of converse and body con dresses. We both roll our eyes at the annoying customers, we both have the same eggshell coloured H&M midi dress, and she now will actively ask me about the boy drama of the day.
“Emily! You look stressed!” She pulls up a chair beside me.
My sunglasses cover half of my face, and I purposely have my back turned away from the bakery wall to avoid the subject of my disaster date last weekend (lol).
So, I begin to tell her the story of Peter Pan, but The Spark Notes version: we met out one night, we’ve been hooking up for a while, I can’t tell if I like him, I can’t tell if he likes me, etc. etc. etc. But most importantly, I leave out the fact that he works for the Object of My Past Newsletters / He Who Shall Not Be Named.
I also leave out the fact that he was traveling with He Who Shall Not Be Named for the past month.
It’s all just troppi cosi.
Him being gone felt like my get-out-of-jail free card. I didn’t have to worry about running into him. I didn’t have to worry about leaving my phone on for that 2:30 AM text. I didn’t have to worry about playing the IG game - wondering which mirror selfie he’d like, wondering if he would like the pasta content, wondering what would happen if his eyes (or someone else’s) would stumble upon these letters, etc. etc. etc.
Peter Pan has this routine where he brings over two Perronis, and one will always linger in my fridge.
“For next time.” He tells me.
The beer trick, my friend calls it.
Peter Pan takes out my garbage without me asking. Peter Pan will ask me questions about myself that I never really know how to answer, because I thought I was well trained enough in protecting myself from situations that have the potential to disappoint.
I have no problems answering the surface level questions, though. We’ll talk about our tattoos and new restaurants to go to.
But, when he said, “Tell me more about you. I know nothing about you.”
That’s when I went blank. That’s when I starred into space, then starred at the wall.
“That’s not true. You know some things about me. You have me on Instagram.”
-
“How long has this been going on for?” The girl at the bakery asks me.
“January.”
“Ma! Emily! It’s JUNE.” Hand gestures and all.
“No, I know. I don’t know how any of this happened.”
Which is the truth. I really do not know.
-
“I’ll come by again after work.”
“Ok.” I give him a side hug.
“I’ll see you in a few minutes!”
I think he meant a few hours, but I laughed at his joke anyway.
“It’s casual! Like, very casual.”
I tell my best friend back in March.
“You know what I’m doing when I don’t like someone?” She starts. “I’m not seeing them every week. I’m not liking each one of their IG stories, especially the quotes about love, and I’m definitely not sending them a countdown of the days until they get home. Oh and I’m also not telling them:
“I’ll wait you.”
That was our favourite line. The broken English on his part and the bad Italian on my part is kind of the best.
“Emily, you want them out. Immediately. Do you ever tell Peter Pan he needs to leave because you have ‘early brunch in the morning’?”
I bury my face in my hands at the restaurant. Ugh, those feels again.
-
On Saturday, Peter Pan came back from a 3 week holiday with He Who Shall Not Be Named.
And, bright and early on Sunday morning - a little WhatsApp notification goes off.
“Heeey. How are you?”
Now, keep in mind, I’m still mentally recovering from a date where the guy told me POINT BLANK he had a girlfriend and was just trying to sleep with me. At least do the most humane thing and DO NOT TELL ME THIS.
You have my permission to ghost me after instead! Block me, maybe!
(You want to know what the other best part of this was? The fact that he told me part of his “plan” was to take me to the bar where Peter Pan + He Who Shall Not Be Named both work. And me, being proud of my own growth, said “let’s go somewhere else” when he originally suggested that bar because I was proving to the universe - LOOK, I’ve moved on! )
Anyways, this is what I get for trying to make a mature decision.
“I’m ok.” I tell our friend Peter. “You?”
“All good. You in Rome?”
“You literally just liked all of my Instagram stories, you know I’m in Rome.”
Peter is usually on the receiving end of my Aries moon. That’s when you know.
“I can text you after work tonight. But only if you want.”
And you know what I do? The most rational thing when you start to realize that you MIGHT have feelings for someone.
“I have plans later.”
We have to let the wheels turn. And that, they did.
“Where are you going?”
“Vinifico.” (I was planning on taking a 3 hour shower and watching Tiktok)
“Ah. Good place.”
“You can text someone else though”
“No, no.”
“You were gone for a while.”
“I know. I’m back though - did you miss me?”
“Honestly, kind of.”
“Really?”
I reply with 🤷♀️. My favourite emoji. I think I did.
I wrap up Sunday evening TikTok scroll and 3 hour long shower. And right on cue, at 2:28 AM, we are hit with the “Hey”.
“I told you I had plans”
“It’s 2:30. You’re still busy?”
“Yes.”
Wrapping up my 3 hour TikTok scroll!!! But I’ll let you think I’m with another guy!!!
“Ah. Then why do you have your phone on you?”
It worked. I am cackling like the wicked witch of the west.
“You texted me and my phone went off.”
“Mmm ok. Enjoy your night.”
Left on read. We’re proud of ourselves.
The next morning, I wake up to a message that reads:
“How was your night? Tired? Ahahaha”
“Lol I told you to text someone else”
“I don’t want to..”
“Why not?”
I always recall me and Peter’s first conversation after that night with the fateful shot:
“Whatever happens between us. No one can know that I’m here, okay?”
I raise my eyebrows and look at him.
“What do you know exactly? Or what do you think you know?”
He raises his hands as if to absolve himself for a crime he’s yet to commit.
“I know nothing, Emily. I know nothing.”
The room is spinning.
ur such a wonderful storyteller