In a flash, I’m in love, married, and carrying his children
It’s a rainy Saturday afternoon when I drag my hungover self to the grocery store in sweatpants and a messy bun. “I’m walking here, asshole!” I yell when I’m almost run over. Once I’m in the microwavable meal section, a voice pipes up from behind me “I’m sorry about earlier.” When I turn around, I feel like Ariel from The Little Mermaid seeing Prince Eric for the first time, with an orchestra going all in on the string music in the background… In a flash, I’m in love, married, and carrying his children. Right, back to reality, Lola! Stumbling, I reply: “It’s fine.” It really wasn’t, but for this handsome devil, I’m more than happy to make an exception.
“Lola, right?” he asks. Sh*t. “Do we know each other?” I ask with an instantly bright red face. I never forget a face. “Martijn, a friend of Roy's," he smiles. Oh no. That doesn’t ring a bell. He continues, “We met on King’s Day.” That explains it. Each year, that day is one gigantic blackout. “Aha! Good to see you again!” I answer him. With a hitch in his voice, he asks me if I’d like to get a drink with him. Isn’t it wonderful how nervous men can get? I leave the supermarket with a new phone number in my contacts.
“Lola?! Are you for real? Out of all the names you could have chosen, you picked Lola?” one of my friends asks after telling her my supermarket tale over dinner. “It’s sort of humoristic, Lol(a).” I replied. My friends give me a surprised look. “Girl, you’re still stuck in puberty!” one of them shrieks through a sip of red wine. Ouch, the bitter truth. While I adore romance, my life sadly isn’t a romantic comedy. I’m in my mid-twenties and have just let my biggest love pass me by. And my name isn’t even Lola. That’s just the moniker I use when I can’t get rid of a guy. Not one of them has been able to track me down online. Pretty clever, I thought. At least, until today, since it’s made a relationship with the asshole on a bike absolutely impossible. A relationship based on a lie is doomed to fail.
That same night, I promise my friends that I’m leaving Lola in the past. “Do you believe in love at first sight? Or should I walk past again?” a guy asks me when I’m at the bar. Oof, that was a rough one. “My name is Joost, and you are?” “I’m… Lola, and not interested.” With a new round of drinks, I return to my friends. Oh well, I’ll hold on to Lola a little bit longer. Because the big question is: What can we do while we’re waiting for our one-true-loves?
Demi (28) explores the topics of body and sex, and gives her unfiltered opinions through the lens of her alter ego Lola.
