The Seven Steps to Closure Read Online Free

so self-centred, that I had missed something in one of my best friend’s life? Then she finished her scrutiny of Nat and turning to me asked, ‘What, you’d rather spend the rest of your life with that foul mouthed cockatiel your mother gave you?’
    I squirmed in my chair and muttered, ‘Bird’s gone.’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘The bird’s gone,’ I said a little louder.
    ‘What? How?’ asked Nat.
    ‘I set him free this morning. I couldn’t take it anymore.’
    ‘What are you going to tell your Mum?’
    ‘That I woke up this morning and he was dead.’
    ‘Don’t forget to mention that you fed him last night and he seemed happy. Otherwise she may think he died of starvation,’ said Nat.
    ‘I’ll tell her he sat on my shoulder while I watched TV and that I gave him a special treat to keep him occupied while I was gone. You know one of those cuttlefish thingies.’
    ‘Christ,’ said Elaine, ‘this is why you have to have meaningful sex.’
    I stuck my tongue out at her. ‘All right, so what happens after I have meaningful sex?’
    Step number seven – Obtain closure.
    ‘What?’ I asked. ‘How?’
    ‘I’m not sure about that part,’ admitted Elaine. ‘But I have faith if you follow all the other steps, it will just happen naturally.’
    ‘You just want me to have sex.’
    ‘Yes I do dear and the sooner the better.’
     
    * * *
     
    By the time I arrived home it was late afternoon and my hangover had morphed into a general tiredness. Cocky’s cage – which I had placed on the sidewalk – was no longer there. I felt a momentary sadness, quickly followed by relief, and then by guilt that I hadn’t returned the cage to Mum. Oh well, I would just have to buy her a new one if she wanted it back.
    I rang Mum, relieved to get the answering machine, and left an over-detailed message about Cocky’s death. I would see her tomorrow at my family birthday lunch; for now I just wanted to be alone to think. I hung up hoping she wouldn’t smell a rat, and went to run a bath.
    I love my apartment. Lily – my sister – and I had each inherited one from our great Aunt Bertha, who had died a couple of years ago. We had been overwhelmed at the generosity of the dear old lady who had spent most of her later life travelling overseas. They are in an old, red brick building in Woollahra, which is an inner suburb of Sydney.
    Lily’s flat – which she rents out – is right next to mine. She has six children, and is expecting her seventh, so there’s no way they could live there. When Jake and I split I had suppressed my sorrow by renovating – taking my apartment from its 1970′s interior of brown and orange to a bright modern flat.
    My favourite room is the bathroom, which is large enough to fit a 2 metre long spa bath. I spent a large portion of last year in that bath; initially crying, but later reading books or drinking wine – always by myself. I had hopes that one day it might be used for something more romantic – certainly not where I wanted to have my meaningless sex encounter, but meaningful sex? Well that was another thing entirely.
    I dropped in a bath bomb scented with orange and lime and watched it start to fizz. Once it had finished, I followed it in – sinking into the hot water and sighing with pleasure. But just as I was starting to relax the magazine article popped into my head. I harrumphed in annoyance. Seven Easy Steps to Closure indeed. Was I really going to do this? I had to admit it did seem like fun: my friends and I on a secret quest to find closure, but I didn’t really like the idea of the internet dating, or the meaningless sex.
    Had I ever had meaningless sex? I started sifting through my memories, sorting the few sexual encounters I’d had as meaningless or meaningful. The time I lost my virginity – definitely meaningful. Then about 8 months later I’d had what I thought was meaningful sex, but had turned out to be meaningless when the young man in question never contacted me