Dumped, Actually(67)

‘That’s fantastic,’ Lizzy replies. ‘Well, I’d better go and sort out the money I’ve taken tonight. It was nice to see you both, and even nicer that you’ll both be back again.’

Lizzy bids us farewell and goes to pick up her cash tin. Wimsy watches her go like a little puppy dog.

I have to suppress a smile.

Good for him.

The guy could do with someone new in his life. He deserves a break.

So could you! So do you!

I clench my fists as I try to quell the raging of the jealousy monster. I’m trying to be positive about this whole mindfulness experience, and I do not intend to let anything ruin it.

‘Do you want to go get a drink, Wims?’ I ask my friend as he continues to give Lizzy the old puppy-dog eyes.

‘Okay,’ he replies, not looking at me.

‘Good. We can talk about when we’re coming back here again.’ I smile. ‘I’m assuming it’ll be quite soon.’


It is quite soon. The next week, in fact.

Wimsy and I attend two classes that week, and a further two the next.

By the time all four have passed, I’m feeling that mindfulness was the best thing I’ve done since the break-up with Samantha. I’m also watching a tentative romance blossom between two people who have been as hurt as I have. It’s a wonderful thing to watch, while at the same time being extremely difficult to be around.

‘My brain never shuts down completely,’ Wimsy tells Lizzy as we stand at the back of the hall together. The rest of the group have long since left, but neither Wimsy nor Lizzy have appeared to notice. Actually, I’m starting to think of some excuse to get out of there myself, so I can leave the two of them alone. ‘The mindfulness gets it about as close to being calm as it can be,’ Wimsy finishes.

‘It can be hard to really relax yourself, if you’re used to being tense all the time,’ Lizzy says. ‘Mindfulness can go a long way to help, but there are other ways to get an even calmer brain, if you need it.’

‘Oh, what like?’ I can’t tell if Wimsy is actually interested, or just faking it to impress Lizzy.

‘Have you heard of sensory deprivation?’

‘Er, no. No, I ain’t heard of that one.’

Lizzy’s eyes light up. ‘It’s quite something. You’re cocooned in a tank, floating in really salty water so you can’t sink. You can’t hear or see anything. It gives you a chance to just let go of every stimulus, and sink deep into yourself. It’s the most relaxing thing I’ve ever done. You should give it a try.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Sounds great!’ Wimsy agrees.

Wimsy would agree to having his toenails pulled out, if Lizzy suggested it, I think.

‘We should give that a go, shouldn’t we, Ollie?’ he says to me, bringing me into a conversation I really shouldn’t be part of.

‘What?’ I say, amazed that either of them has remembered my presence.

‘The sensory deprivation thingy Lizzy’s on about. We should have a go at it.’

‘Umm. I guess so.’ I don’t sound convinced, because I’m not. Sinking deep into myself isn’t something I’m sure I want to do. I might not like what I find.

Wimsy’s face clouds when he sees my reluctance.

He then says the one thing that’s guaranteed to get me to go along with it.

‘You could write about it for “Dumped Actually”!’

Bloody hell. He’s right. It would make for some solid material, wouldn’t it?

‘Oh. Yes. That’s a good point, actually,’ I agree.

‘I can give you the leaflet for the place I’ve been to,’ Lizzy adds. ‘After you’ve visited it, we could meet up, and you could let me know how it went.’

This last bit is aimed squarely at Wimsy, of course. I don’t think I’ll be getting a bloody invite.

Stop it, jealousy monster! Back into your cave with you!

‘Fantastic!’ Wimsy says, delight in his eyes for the first time since I met him on top of that car park.

Lizzy trots off to retrieve the leaflet from her rucksack. Wimsy stands next to me vibrating with excitement, while I start to wonder what I’m letting myself in for.

Lizzy returns and hands me the leaflet.

‘Floaters,’ I read. ‘Sensory deprivation for rest, relaxation and self-discovery.’

‘It really is quite marvellous,’ Lizzy assures me.

I flip the leaflet over to find a picture of one of the tanks (or ‘pods’ as the leaflet describes them). It looks like something out of a science fiction movie. Not an exciting one, though, like Aliens. This is more like a prop from 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I have tried and failed to watch three times, falling asleep before the end on every occasion.

The pod is white, enormous and has a flip-up door, allowing you to see into the cool blue water inside. It looks like Pac-Man after extreme weight gain, and a bath in strong bleach.

‘And this is supposed to be good for your mind as well, is it?’ I ask Lizzy, none too sure.

‘Absolutely! If you’ve enjoyed what we’ve been doing here, you should love that. It’s the next step. It should get you even further down the path of healing. It certainly did for me. The sense of self-discovery I gained inside that tank was mind-blowing.’