Wednesday, September 2, 2015


"I can't believe you won't come with me," I whined at Ashley for the umpteenth time as I zipped my over-stuffed suitcase closed. 

"I know, I promise I'll try to come down Saturday if my event ends in time," she said from her perch on my bed. 

I was heading down to Philly for the weekend to celebrate both Laura's birthday and to visit my parents, since I hadn't seen them in nearly two months. Ashley was staying in New York for a work event and I was giving her sass ever since she told me about her impending absence. 

Heaving the bag over my shoulder, I gave her one last mock glare. "If I run into Dylan and he has some gorgeous, leggy blonde on his arm and you're not there to distract me, it's all your fault when I end up in jail," I said.

"Why, exactly, would you end up in jail?" Ash asked.

"Because without you there I would act irrationally, yanking said leggy blonde by the hair into the back alley."

Ash rolled her eyes. "You can't avoid Philly forever, and if I remember correctly, you basically dumped Dylan and then ran head first into Nick. If anyone is the more bruised party here, it's Dylan."

I had heard this before, and chose to ignore it since I hated admitting she was right.

"Well, as retaliation, I stole that French Connection swing dress of yours to wear tomorrow night," I say, slipping quickly down the hall before she can steal it back. 

"It better not end up on the floor of some guys room!" I hear her bellow after me, but I'm already halfway out the door. 

Thirty minutes later, I'm on an Amtrak swishing its way down to Philadelphia. I answered a few work emails, checked our Twitter mentions and skimmed through our latest Instagram comments before growing tired of looking at social media. I opened my texts and scrolled to the one I had sent a few days prior to Nick. The glaring, unanswered "I miss you" a stomach-panging reminder that he had clearly moved on. 

I opened Instagram and logged out of Arabella's account and back into my own. Carefully typing in Nick's name, I allowed myself one of my rarest acts of ex-girlfriend creepiness: looking at his Instagram profile. As my fingers tapped on his name, photos of him filled the small screen. Since becoming "famous", Nick had gained a solid 500k more followers than the average American. 

I was disappointed when I didn't find anything in his recent photos that would justify him not responding to me. In a sick way, I almost wanted him to have blatant photos of Lacey so I could pretend he wasn't replying to my text because his new, controlling girlfriend wouldn't let him. But instead, his profile was full of images of him at premieres, clubs and the ever-cliche helicopter-view food snap. I was a solid 16 weeks deep in his feed when I accidentally tapped twice on a photo.

"Shit!" I yelped, dropping the phone into my lap, living literally every girls' nightmare. I had hit "like" on a photo of my ex boyfriend from four months ago. That paired with the "I miss you" text had me planting my flag into the freaking rock foundation of Crazyville. 

I should unlike it, I tell myself. Definitely, definitely unlike it. 

I picked the phone back up, as careful as if it were a bomb. Hovering the offending thumb over the image, I double tapped. The red-filled heart quickly turned back to just an outline. 

"Whew," I audibly exhaled. 

Within a minute, I was back into a panic. Of course he was going to get a notification you fucking idiot. I thought to myself. I'm a god damn social media professional, how did that not cross my mind. 

I quickly open Instagram, which was still patiently showcasing the image that was causing me more stress than the time my boss asked for a strategic plan for fashion week in under an hour. 

I tapped twice on the image again, reasoning that the notification would simply get lost amongst the other 500,000 followers who were engaging with him on a regular basis. And if not, at least he wouldn't click on it to see I had rescinded the like. Afterall, the image was just one of him and two buddies, looking carefree on a fishing boat. I could have liked it as just one of Nick's old friends. One of Nicks, super creepy stalker friends. But, still a friend.

I tuck my phone away then, not wanting to do any more damage. I had to reason with my crazy self not to make my Instagram priviate in an attempt to pretend it didn't happen. @Dani_Fitz0 didnt exactly mask who I was. 

An hour and several paniced texts to Ash later, the train was pulling into 30th Street. I ascended the steps, craning my neck to take in the extraordinarily high ceilings and sheer beauty of the old building. I was shoved along by an impatient passenger behind me, and I quickened my pace. As I approached the exit where cabs always were, my imagination conjured Dylan, standing in his easy stance as he always had when he used to pick me up. This was half of the reason I had been avoiding Philly; I knew coming back here would flood my heart with feelings I had tried so hard to ignore. 

I fixed my gaze downward, rifling through my purse for my wallet. I wanted to grab a coconut water before getting in a cab. As I lifted my gaze back up, I saw that the mirage Dylan was still there. He was staring at me, unsurprised, like he had known I was coming up that staircase all along.

My feet, not listening to my brain at all, kept carrying me toward him. Toward the boy I hadn't seen in more than half a year, who I could now clearly see wasn't a mirage at all. 


  1. Am I the only one that went in search of the nonexistent Instagram page???

    Great post

    1. Hahahaha, I did the same thing! There were actually a few people named Danielle Fitzgerald, lol.

  2. Dylan!!! Ahhhhhhh!!!

  3. Yes! That dress better end up on Dylan's floor!

  4. Nick who? Glad to see Dylan back, but I sure hope their meeting ends up well for Dani!

  5. The panic of liking an old Instagram post is like no other! Ahhh Dylan! And seriously, is there anything worse than an unanswered "I miss you text"?! -- great post as always!

  6. I think Dylan will be there picking up his new girlfriend who will probably be that bitch Dani didn't trust! Cue awkward moment..

    1. did she already live in Philly, though? i thought that was part of the problem--Dani knew that Dylan was occasionally going to happy hours and parties where she was hanging out.

  7. Dylan!! Yesss! I second ^ that Dylan is probably there to pick up that one girl who Dylan had history with and who caused Dani's trust issues. lol

  8. Love love loved Dylan and wish he'd come back...maybe he really IS there for Dani?