other (1)

January – April 2015

I’m out of Auckland for my sisters incredible wedding, i’m on my laptop applying for jobs in London. I can’t believe I am leaving this beautiful country, my family, my friends and the best summer I have ever had with Trouble – for the unknown – in two days!

I’m on Facebook messaging my friends in London when I see a (1) in my ‘Other’ inbox…here we go, a new message from a foreign man declaring his love for me in pigeon English and potentially proposing marriage. That’s the only type of message that you get in that part of Facebook messenger right?

Wrong.

As suspected, a name I don’t recognise is in the from: so I open it suspiciously. It’s not a foreigner pledging his love and devotion…it’s the copywriter. He has tracked me down on Facebook? His message tells me it was really nice to meet me, that it was a shame we met just as I was leaving but he would love to see me again before I leave. Shock hits me, but I feel a few little butterflies at the memory of the connection I felt with this guy a few weeks back. It turns out he actually messaged me over two weeks ago – but I never saw it because of that non-friend filter that instantly sends messages to ones Other inbox rather than your normal inbox. I reply and explain the ‘Other’ situation, apologise for not replying to the message sooner and that although it was nice to meet him too, I leave in two days and I am not even in Auckland to be able to see him before I depart.

I don’t hear back from him – but why would I?

I’ve made my move to London but within nine weeks I’m headed back to New Zealand for one of my best friends weddings. On my last day at home, someone mentions the Cold Brew coffee that the copywriter hand delivered to my desk last December. It hits me at how adorable that gesture was – to be honest, it was probably one of the nicest things a relative stranger has ever done for me. Did I really thank him enough in my last message? I don’t think I did – I was too caught up in the summer romance with Trouble.

I’m sitting at the airport waiting for my flight back to London and decide to message him, explaining that how much of a nice touch it was and that gestures like that don’t, and shouldn’t, go un-noticed. I click send – why do I feel nervous? Why do I have butterflies at the thought of hearing – or not hearing – from him again?

Delivered. Tick.

Seen. Tick.

No reply.

I’m a little bit gutted to be honest. I really thought I’d hear back from him. After all, he was the one who initially tracked me down Oh well – I only met the guy once, and there is no chance of ever seeing him again – how stupid was I to message him. Silly girl.

Message – and memory – deleted.

xo bambi

distanced hearts club ♥

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