Ms Amarat Sehgal is a graduate in Media Technology and has been a creative writer for over two years. Having experienced the high’s and low’s of many adventurous relationships, she has decided to share her experiences.
You can follow the series exclusively here on AIM over the next six weeks.

by Amarat Sehgal
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I looked at my phone for the fifth time, checking to see if there were any missed calls or messages.
Nothing! And there was zilch for the next 3 hours too.

I knew Danny was in the pub again, I could even name the pub too. He was watching the Chelsea match and as always, he drank far too much.

As it had taken me 20 minutes to super-straighten my hair, I wanted to be outside in the sun with Danny. I had even squeezed into my super, skinny jeans, which made my ass look great. All I wanted to do was see him and go for lunch, as he promised to do so.

Another 30 minutes later, I couldn’t wait any longer so I got into the car and I drove to The Hare & Hound. I recognised his tattooed arms immediately, with a pint in his hands.

I approached him calmly and said “You were supposed to call me 4 hours ago?”

“Hi Babe, I was just about to call you,” he completely ignored what I had said.

He eventually calmed me down and got me a drink.

I was still annoyed, I explained to him that we were meant to have lunch today in Richmond near the river?
Instead he started making funny face’s, it always made my heart melt, he stared into my eyes and said he’ll make it up to me.

The truth was, Danny never did make things up to me but I was still deeply, madly in love with him. It had been over a year for us and he still made my knees weak. I knew deep down I could do much better but . . . but . . .
Dan always knew had to win me over and somehow he would worm his way back into my life.

As my sister was out that evening, I asked Danny to come over to mine later for dinner. He agreed and 9ish sounded good, “you better be there on time,” I insisted.

At 9.15pm, I took another sip of my wine – NO SIGN OF DANNY YET!

I now needed something a little stronger; I got the Jack Daniel’s out and poured a stiff shot with a dash of lemonade. I didn’t call this time, I wanted to think that I could trust him and that he will be here, he better be here ……

The food was done and I was eating on my own, it was 10.30pm now, I decided to give his share to the dog. My dog had had his share for the 2nd time in a week now, she must’ve thought it was Christmas again?

I cried as I took off my make-up and put my nightie on. I took another sip from my fatal drink, as my tears rolled down onto my cheeks. My tears hurt, when your tears hurt, it means you are genuinely hurting, not when you watch a sad film or listen to a sad story but real, hot, painful tears.

Me and my tears went to bed.

At 2am, I got a phone call on my mobile which always slept on the pillow next to mine. It was Danny, saying he had fallen asleep and had lost track of time and that he was on his way to me, like now.

At first I felt happy that he had at least called me but then I remembered the pain he had put me through that evening.

When he eventually came in, he stunk off booze. I told him that I was going to bed but he wanted a cuddle, I got annoyed.

“You liar Danny, your still drunk,” I couldn’t believe that he was still drunk?

He tried to make me laugh and pulled funny faces again but I was angry and to be honest I was tired, tired of carrying on like this. I had no make-up on, my eyes were puffy and I wasn’t in the mood to play about.

I then realised Danny’s hand was bleeding, “What happened?”

After much persuasion he told me the truth.

He stayed in the pub after the Chelsea match, so he had been there all day, which would’ve been around 14-16 hours. He then got into a fight straight after I’d left, he had hit someone and then had to run as the police were called.

The hooligan then decided (after 6 hours), to drink and drive and come and see me.

“Get out Danny,” I wanted him out and I tried pushing the drunk out of my house, he was gobsmacked that I was kicking him out.

“Please babe, don’t do this,” he begged me but I had to get rid of him. I had to get rid of him for good, this was the 3rd time he had forgotten about our dates and it was the millionth time I had seen him drunk.

As I opened the door, he swore at me loudly and made a scene right outside my house, I quickly shut the door. Please God don’t let my neighbours hear him, what will they think? I then realised I was thinking like my mother….not a good thing!

I went upstairs and tried to fall asleep, I checked my phone and deleted Danny’s number. My heart was breaking in a million pieces but I had to do it, my gut feeling was telling me to. I cried as I prayed but I was exhausted from crying.

“Please God, send me someone who can make me smile, laugh and have muscles like Danny but send me someone who cares about me too.”

The next morning, I was awoken to my sister making prontha, (Indian style usually weekend breakfast).

“Aaah lovely,” I thought, and for a second I actually forgot about my night.

I told my little sister what happened and we ended up going to Richmond ourselves for lunch.

After lunch, I thought how lucky I was, if I didn’t have a boyfriend, I had my family and friends to pick me up again. I will get over this and it’s just a matter of time before I do and maybe one day, God will make my wish come true?

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Amarat can be contacted on the.storyteller@hotmail.co.uk.