ONE TIME IN NOVEMBER.

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DOWNTOWN CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, 2016.

“You’re up?” Clayton’s DM read on my Instagram profile.

But I was only just waking up. His message was sent minutes past 1.am, while I was fast asleep.

I smiled, glad he texted because I had made up my mind not to pursue our friendship any longer. Not for anything, he did wrong, but because I liked him too much…way too much.

I rolled over to my side,

contemplated for five seconds whether to ignore or reply and decided on replying… I could not resist anything he wrote.

“Hey,” I wrote back, “Good morning”.

It happens almost every time, that excitement you feel when you meet someone new, someone, that suits you, there’s a sweet thrill that comes with it – you want to talk to them almost every time, you want to share even the littlest details of your day with them, you want to see them, you want to be with them… I felt all of these with Clayton, only that, I didn’t want to see him, not really.

He was married, happily married while I was in the middle of a custody battle and an ugly divorce.

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