Ruth Writes

She wakes up with her head on a pillow that is not hers. She’s never been here before, but it doesn’t startle her. She’s never done this before, but it doesn’t startle her. She made a conscious, adult decision to get over her ex by getting under somebody else and it had felt good. That’s all she wants from this though. She’s quite prepared to never have to see this man again. She remains still, her head not moving from the pillow. She can hear the soft, slow snores of the man beside her and counts to ten before she carefully peels back the sheets. She tiptoes around the room gathering her clothes throwing them on haphazardly. He hasn’t moved. She tries not to laugh. She feels all bubbly and giggly inside. The old her would never have done this and now here she is, about to sneak out of a strange man’s bed and walk home in last night’s clothes. She has to cover her mouth to contain the deranged squeal she nearly lets loose.

She sneaks around the crack in the door, grabs her purse that’s dangling from the door handle, and steps outside into the bright morning sun. She checks her phone; it’s not even seven. The world is still asleep or just waking up and she’s strolling home in last night’s dress, stolen socks on her feet, heels in her hand. She feels lighter than she did yesterday, like she’s walking on air. The cool morning breeze feels good on her skin, and she couldn’t care less if she looks like she’s been dragged through a bush, she feels fantastic.

She wanders down the road, trying to get her bearings without the help of the maps on her phone. Her head moves around taking in the park of trees to her left and searching for a street sign amongst the row of houses on her right until she realises, she doesn’t care where she is. Right here, right now, all she wants to do is spend the next hour of her life just wandering around the awakening world and not go home to her empty bed.

This is the first time in months that she’s felt anything but a heavy hopeless sadness. It’s as if the sun is soaking through her skin and making her glow from the inside out. The day feels full of possibilities. She touches her cheeks and finds them lifted in a huge grin. She laughs, out loud and it echoes through the empty streets. Her whole body tingles with anticipation as she thinks of everything she can do on her journey home; stop for a coffee, eat a muffin, sit in the park and feed the birds. The warmth and lightness she feels propels her limbs forward as she switches from walking to a light skip. When did the world decide it’s not appropriate for adults to skip? She can’t remember the last time she felt like this; simple, pure joy.