Love Is for Losers
Chapters (7)
Title Page
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Dedication
For Brittain, Luci, and Sophie
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Monday, January 1 #HappyNewYearToMe
Did you know that you can marry yourself? How strange/brilliant is that?
It’s called sologamy, and here’s why it’s such a good idea:
- The only person you need to actually like, answer to, or tolerate is you.
- No one is ever going to leave you, disappoint you, or hurt you.
- We all die alone anyway.
The reason I’m considering sologamy at this point in my life is not because I was secretly hoping to marry Polly one day (ew!), but because the sudden and rather unexpected end of our friendship is teaching me all sorts of vital life lessons, and never let it be said that I’m not a fast learner.
For as long as I can remember, it’s been Phoebe and Polly, Polly and Phoebe, the two P’s in a pod.
We didn’t exist without the other; BFFs since birth.
And suddenly, ding-dong, Big Ben strikes midnight, and Tristan Can’t-Even-Ride-A-Bicycle Murphy pops the reality-altering question: Polly, will you be my girlfriend?, and just like that, I’ve been literally erased from Polly’s brain.
I’m not even angry about Polly losing her mind; I’m angry about being angry, because I knew (and I did know) it would come to this.
I knew that when she was like: “Let’s all go to Embankment and see the fireworks,” what she actually meant was: Please, Phoebe, can you come along so that it isn’t obvious I’m asking Tristan on an actual date, even though I basically am, because all I actually want is to be alone with him so that we can take whatever it is we’re doing “to the next level.”
Blech!
I never should have gone.
Polly didn’t even wish me a happy new year.
Possibly because she couldn’t see me at that point, because the moment the Thames erupted into the meteor-shower-like fireworks extravaganza that must have cost the taxpayers millions, all that existed for her was Tristan’s mouth.
And you know how in films kisses are always really hot and gorgeous (mainly because the people are hot and gorgeous)? Well, Tristan looked like he was trying to swallow Polly’s entire head.
I was literally sick in my mouth.
Good thing was, though, that I fought my way back to the tube station as millions of people stood glued to the spot looking the other way, which meant that, apart from the driver, I was the only person on the District Line at 12:08.