June, 2012.
A Wednesday morning, 2:30AM. I punched in the pin code and I was in. Complete access to texts, Facebook, emails. Scroll. Quick. Apps, what apps? Facebook. Facebook chat. Texts. Scroll.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Gemma. Sarah. Jessica. Alana. Emma. Lisa. Tegan. Monica.
‘Tell me what you’d do to me next?’
‘Send me some photos.’
‘I think we’d be good together.’
‘Where can I meet you?’
‘Thanks for coming last night.’
‘She’ll be at work so that should be fine.’
‘She’s so keen, but I’ll never marry her.’
I sat on the lounge room floor, in pitch black, hands trembling in fear he would wake and catch me in the act. I scrolled fast. I clicked so quick, I read quick.
I didn’t read everything. I felt I didn’t have time to read everything. But I read enough.
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And how many hearts has this girl broken I know of one
Women know. Even when they think they are unsure, they know.