This morning I lay in bed, sipped my coffee and scrolled through Facebook.
There was an aunty asking me how I was. Publicly, as aunties do.
I smile at those things.
Pretty good thanks Auntie B, appreciate you asking.
There was a good friend sending me a puppy pic, as good friends do.
I smile at those things too.
Ugh that is too cute man, thanks darling.
And an idiot that I went on a disastrous date with just once, posting a pic of us, on Facebook, public forum, for everyone to see, one year, ONE YEAR after the date.
I do not smile at those things.
‘Why the fuck would you put that picture up, you idiot. Seriously, why?’
What I remember about that night was it was so awful that I’d walked out after like an hour. Before that someone had been taking pics. I remember pretending to smile and look happy for the camera. I wasn’t happy, it was a fuck awful date, probably the worst I’ve ever had.
My blood boiled. I didn’t wait for him to reply, I just deleted the pic.
But I was really cross.
I’m still cross.
And in fact it was a really good pic of me, the lighting was fab and my eyes were shining and I loved my hair like that and think I’m gonna grow it back to that length, but – I just didn’t want any reminders of that awful evening. Or of him.
Am I overreacting, as I am known to do?
But I don’t care. Don’t put pics of me up on social media when I barely know you and jesus christ it was just horrible and he was drunk and disgusting and everyone at the party was awful and I was the only well dressed one and they all wore hand knitted jerseys with reindeers on them and crocs, god crocs, and I just want to erase that night out of my mind forever.
I’m not overreacting at all.