Page 11 of Wish You Were Here

Saskia

Dear S,

Can I call you just S? Is that weird? I think it’s too weird.

I won’t do it again. Sorry. Okay, so I found a video on YouTube about Huntsman spiders and it is mental!

How can you live there? I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

I would live in a constant state of fear that a giant huntsman spider would move into my house and I would be forced to move out!

Give me pebbly beaches and hostile seagulls any day of the week.

Regarding my status as a single man, I just went out on a date, and it was a disaster.

She ended up in floods of tears, went to the toilet and didn’t come back!

Not good. To be clear, it wasn’t anything I did.

She just wasn’t over her ex-boyfriend, but it did make me think about how hard it is to meet someone.

I am soon going to be thirty, and I have decided I want to meet my future wife, and my friends are helping me.

Is that sad? I’m tired of being single or in rubbish relationships.

I see other people settling down, going on holiday with their partners, getting married, buying houses, having kids, and I am ready for it.

Anyway, that’s enough sadness from me – bloody grey weather!

Oh yes, it rained super hard on the date, and it made me think of you.

I actually have a confession. I told my flatmate about you, and he made me look you up online.

I don’t have social media, but he does, and he found your Instagram page.

I have two things to tell you. One, you are a brilliant singer!

I watched a few of the videos, and I couldn’t believe your voice.

You should be famous! Two, you are stunningly beautiful.

I don’t know what I was expecting – apparently, a hideously unattractive, wizened old woman with a hunchback and a face so unpleasant I couldn’t bear to look at it without vomiting in disgust – but I was pleasantly surprised.

I’m not sure where I am going with this, other than I think you are very talented and very beautiful. That’s it. Until next time, email pal!

All the best,

B x

PS. I realise using B is as lame as calling you S. I won’t do it again. Sorry.

I am walking with Jess from Coogee Beach to Bondi Beach on a cool, slightly overcast Saturday morning, and I’m telling her about my recent decision to be single and celibate.

The Coogee to Bondi walk is one of our favourites, and we do it at least once a month.

It’s about six kilometres along the most beautiful coastal pathway, and the views are to die for.

It takes about two hours, so absolutely perfect for a proper chat away from phones, husbands and all the other interruptions of life.

It’s just me, Jess and the stunning Sydney coastline.

Today is also the first time we have hung out since the wedding and her honeymoon to Bali.

‘I’m just tired of making bad choice after bad choice when it comes to men,’ I say, striding along in black three quarter length tights, with a long-sleeved lilac top and a pair of black Nike runners.

My definitely-in-need-of-a-wash hair is tied up, and despite the rather blustery day, I’m feeling good.

Although I haven’t had my morning coffee yet, which we are going to get in Bondi.

‘Like Brad?’ says Jess, who is basically wearing a different variation of the same outfit, although she is rather more tanned than me after her honeymoon.

‘I’m sorry, okay? You were right. I should have left it alone. I felt like shit in the morning.’

‘So you should, but we all make mistakes. Remember the English fella I dated before Az?’

‘The one with the large penis?’

‘Not large, Sas, enormous! But that wasn’t the problem. He was three-timing me with two other women. I still don’t know how he had the time to be dating all three of us, and it must have cost him an absolute fortune on dates. We always went to the nicest places.’

‘Maybe he needed to put that huge penis to work. One woman just wasn’t enough for it.’

Jess laughs. ‘Maybe. So, you’re really going to be celibate, and for how long?’

This is a good question. I have decided to stay away from men for a while and to focus on my career, but for how long?

How long can I keep trying to be a singer until I have to give up the dream and, in the words of Mum, ‘get a proper job’?

What job would I even get, given that I am qualified to do absolutely nothing?

How long until I begin dating again, and not just sleeping with men because I am tired of that, but actually dating, and what if I meet the perfect man, am I going to say no because I am currently on a break from love?

I have no answers to these burning questions, but I know I am tired of making the wrong choices, so I’m choosing me instead.

‘I am, but I don’t know for how long. I just need some time to breathe.’

‘Sounds like a brilliant idea, and for what it’s worth, when you meet the right man, he’s going to be one lucky bastard,’ says Jess, and I smile, say thank you and we keep walking and Jess tells me all about Bali.

Actually, she tells me about all the places she had sex with Aaron in Bali, and I have to admit, it’s impressive.

From the infinity pool of the house they rented, to deserted beaches, on pit-stops while walking in the jungle and even in the rental car.

It seems they made the most of their honeymoon.

They also ate delicious food, visited waterfalls, temples and a monkey sanctuary, but mainly they just had a lot of sex.

Although she confirmed they aren’t trying for a baby yet, but much like my thirtieth birthday, it is on the horizon.

The Coogee to Bondi walk takes you along breathtaking clifftops, down into gorgeous surf beaches, secluded bays and alongside the historic Waverley Cemetery.

It’s an iconic walk that never gets old, no matter how many times you do it.

Shallow rock-pools are dotted beneath the pathway as we get nearer to Bondi Beach, the cliffs jut out towards the sea, and then there’s the famous Bondi Icebergs swimming pool, where you can see a few swimmers slowly trudging back and forth in the fresh seawater.

As we get nearer to Bondi, I tell her all about Ben.

‘Out of the blue, he emails me. I email back, and now we’ve been emailing each other for weeks. It’s really weird because I feel a connection with him.’

‘Email man?’

‘I don’t know, it’s weird, Jess, but we tell each other everything—’

‘Everything?’

‘Okay, not everything, but it’s become the highlight of most of my days.’

‘You email daily?’

‘Most days.’

‘It’s the most committed relationship you’ve had in years, Sas.’

‘I know, it’s just really … I don’t know, there’s something there but …’ I say, stopping mid-sentence.

‘But what? Is he ugly? Have you seen a photo of him?’

‘I have, and he’s far from ugly. He’s hot, has a good job, is single and looking for love.’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Except he lives ten thousand miles away.’

‘Nothing wrong with a little long-distance.’

‘Yeah, but there’s long-distance and then there’s, you know, long-distance.’

‘Think of the FaceTime sex!’

‘FaceTime sex? How does that work exactly?’

‘Remember when Az had to go away for that month for work?’

‘Yeah.’

‘FaceTime sex.’

I laugh. ‘Wow! But again, how do you FaceTime sex? What do you do exactly?’

‘You use your imagination, Sas,’ says Jess, and when I look at her, she bursts into laughter. We keep walking, and I’m trying not to think of Jess and Aaron having FaceTime sex.

‘Ben and I haven’t even normal FaceTimed yet,’ I say after a minute. ‘So I don’t think we’re quite ready for weird FaceTime sex just yet.’

‘Then maybe you should.’

‘But why? I’m off men, remember, and even if we did have something, apart from the FaceTime sex, how would it even work? He’s there, I’m here, and I’m not looking for something serious right now. Especially something as complicated as this.’

I look at Jess, and she looks back at me, as we finally reach Bondi Beach.

We stand for a moment on the pathway, leaning against the white wooden fence, and we look out across the beach and the gorgeous ocean.

We watch the surfers and the birds that swoop and soar, and for a second, I’m reminded of Ben’s comments about the vicious seagulls in England, and I laugh to myself.

‘I don’t know how that would work, Sas, but I also know that love is magical. It can make you do things you never thought possible.’

‘Like FaceTime sex?’

‘Like FaceTime sex, but also like running out to get them medicine in the middle of the night while they’re on the toilet with stomach flu, and then cleaning up the puke and you don’t mind because you love them.

Like putting up with their snoring and actually finding their morning breath endearing.

Getting love notes in your lunch when you’re at work, or a text in the middle of the afternoon that says, I love you more every day.

Finding one of their socks behind the sofa when they’re away for a few days and actually weeping because you miss them so much.

Pretending to support their footie team even though you find it brain-numbingly boring, but it doesn’t matter because you love them and whatever they love.

Love is the most incredible thing, Sas, and you should never close yourself off to it. ’ I laugh. ‘What?’

‘You’re the second person to have said that to me recently.’

‘Who was the other?’

‘Lou, one of the old blokes at the home. He also said that if I was up for it, he’d love to see one last pair of tits before he dies, so you know.’

‘Oh my God, he actually said that?’ says an incredulous Jess.

‘He’s said worse, but he’s harmless enough.’

‘And surprisingly erudite when it comes to love.’

We keep walking until we come to a few shops and cafes.

We get ourselves a coffee each before we walk across the road, find a bench in Bondi Beach Park, and sit down, looking off towards the ocean.

I take a sip of my coffee. I know Jess has to leave soon because she already mentioned she has an appointment with Aaron after lunch.

They have been renting a flat in the CBD for the past two years, but they want to buy a house before they start a family, and so they’re meeting an estate agent to get the ball rolling.

It will probably mean them moving further out into the suburbs to get something they can afford.

I have lived in Glebe with Mum my whole life, which I know isn’t something to brag about, but it has given me the chance to follow my dreams without having to worry about the extortionate Sydney rent.

It does remind me how far behind Jess I am, though.

She’s looking at buying a house to start a family with her husband, while I am still living at home, single and putting my faith in my singing career.

I’m hardly on the cusp of getting everything together before my thirtieth, am I?

‘What do you reckon? Are you going to FaceTime with this Ben fella?’ says Jess, before she takes a sip of her flat white.

‘Regular or sexy?’

‘Either.’

‘Regular maybe, sexy, definitely not.’

‘For what it’s worth, I think you should.’

‘Yeah?’

‘You never know, Sas, and despite approving of your abstinence from casual one-night stands, I think real love is always something worth looking out for.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks, Jess, and I really am sorry about Brad. It was just a blip.’

‘The Brad Blip. You aren’t the first woman to fall for it, and you won’t be the last. He is ridiculously handsome.’

‘Right? And the abs, Jesus!’

Jess and I finish our coffees, head back into the CBD, before we say goodbye and then head off in opposite directions. I eventually get home, go to my room – Brian is watching a German doco about sausages in the lounge – and start writing an email to Ben.

Dear B, Be, Ben?

I think we should probably steer away from single-letter name abbreviations, don’t you? Unless you are in a hurry, then it’s all right, I guess.

I have also seen some pretty terrifying videos of Huntsman spiders, although honestly, you rarely see them.

Especially in the house. Plus, you just get used to it.

Although I see your point. I Googled it, and I can’t believe that the UK has no real poisonous creatures!

It says there are a couple that might leave a painful bite and could cause a rash, but that’s it.

I wouldn’t call that poisonous! In Australia, poisonous means if you don’t get urgent medical help within five minutes you’re dead!

Sorry about the date situation. It sounds like it was more her issue than you being an absolute loser.

Although I wasn’t there, maybe you were super weird, and she was forced to bail.

I went on a blind date once – never again – and he kept asking me if I liked my feet, and then after about half-an-hour, asked if he could see my feet.

I left quickly. Although I’m sure that wasn’t the case for you (I hope).

I know what you mean about meeting the right person.

My love life feels like the television show with Neil Patrick Harris, A Series Of Unfortunate Events.

I have a confession too. I looked you up online, and what is it with you and no social media, Ben?

Not that you have to have it, but it feels like when I meet someone who doesn’t drink alcohol.

I have to ask why? Anyway, I found a photo of you on your company website, and it was very handsome indeed!

That’s what I told my best mate, Jess, and she thinks we should FaceTime.

What do you reckon? Would it be weird? I don’t know.

It’s been cool emailing you, but maybe we need to take the next step?

Sorry if this is weird. Please don’t freak out. Remember, I am ten thousand miles away!

Also, I am glad I am not a hideously unattractive, wizened old woman with a hunchback and a face so unpleasant you couldn’t bear to look at it without vomiting in disgust. That made me laugh! It’s nice you think I am beautiful. Thank you.

All the best,

Sas x

PS. Most of my friends call me Sas

PPS. Let me know about FaceTime. I am not a weirdo, promise.