It was Christmas Day night and I couldn’t sleep. Not through excitement for continued Twixmas celebrations, but because I knew I had a difficult and almost certainly heartbreaking conversation ahead of me.
My self-esteem was at an all time low and a situationship of mine had developed into an emotionally torturous interaction. Sex with a good friend meant catching unreciprocated feelings. Despite the friendship, he’d gone quiet and ghosted me during a winter lockdown. It felt terrible. Rotating all possibilities, my mind searched for answers during this period of silence. My inner critic used the situation as a stick to beat me with, evidence of all my shortcomings, proof that I was deficient in other people’s eyes (not just my own).
When he got back in touch to search for guilt absolution, to make sure his reputation remained unscathed in our friendship group, I was confused by his intentions and, I’ll admit, I hoped he’d had …