A LOVE ODYSSEY

A newly-out lesbian is on a path to finding herself, finding her people, and finding her partner in that order -

Bette was running. She hated running. But her route from Mei’s to the park had taken her past the pub where they’d had their first date. And so Bette was late. She’d promised her flatmate, Ash, she wouldn’t get distracted, that she’d be there to celebrate the end of term, that she hadn’t become a person who met someone and instantly ditched her friends. Though, in the end, she’d rather be that person than this one: the one who was late because she was delayed having a long public cry about a non-break-up.

Because that was the thing. The whole morning with Mei had eventually boiled down to one salient point: this wasn’t a break-up.

The problem was, of course, that it absolutely felt like one. It would be as though Mei were going somewhere technologically and physically remote for a while, as if she were setting up an installation at the South Pole. Except that she’d be in Bristol, and they often worked together, so there was every chance they were going to see each other in the interim.

It was going to be hell.

What would be ideal, Bette figured, would be to go home, crawl into bed, and emerge only after the mandated three months had passed.

Instead, the thread of messages from Ash made it clear that that was not the Saturday she was destined to have. She was, instead, late for the park. She was also supposed to be bringing crisps and a dip, which she didn’t have, the procurement of which was going to make her even later. Bette had said yes to the plan days ago, when she imagined Mei joining them once she’d finished in the studio, imagined them lying on a picnic blanket together, imagined her head resting on Mei’s stomach as they dozed. Imagined them posed like a bus ad for tinned G&Ts.