Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (motivational books for men .TXT) 📕

My mum would never do what your mum does, because she’s too insecure. If I hang up without telling her I love her, she calls right back.

Me: I never tell Mum I love her.

Polly: I’m sure she knows without you having to say it every five minutes. And that’s why she can do what she does.

Me: I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it that way.

Polly: No, because even though you’re the cleverest person I’ve ever met, you’re dumb as fuck when it comes to real life.

Me: Fuck off. Why are you horrible to me?

Polly: You fuck off. I’m right.

Me: How are things with Training Wheels?

Polly: When can we stop calling him that?

Me: Probably never.

Polly: How are things with you?

Me: Great.

Polly: So not great.

Me: I’ve had a stomachache for, like, four weeks, and Kate is all loved up with her new boyfriend.

Polly: Kate has a boyfriend?

Me: Yes, James.

Polly: Who’s James?

Me: You know James. The guy who was at the thrift shop that day you came in. They’ve been getting it on for a c—

Polly: Wait a minute, she’s dating that hot guy?

Me: Yes. James.

Polly: He’s, like, twenty.

Me: Twenty-three, actually.

Polly: And she’s how old?

Me: Thirty-eight.

Polly: That’s so cool.

Me:…

Polly: Good for her.

Me: I’m sure it must be.

Polly: At least you’ve got someone super hot walking around yours all the time … possibly in a towel? Gosh (biting her lip), Kate’s so lucky.

Me (thinking about James in nothing but a towel, but unable to share her enthusiasm): And what about Tristan? You know. Sex. And all that?

Polly:…

Me: Seriously? How are you still with him? What’s the point in even having sex when it’s bad?

Polly: Because I love him. Don’t be so stupid.

Me: Why can’t you just masturbate and tell him to watch?

Polly (eyes nearly rolling out of her head):…

Me: Polly, seriously, what’s your problem? You’re not like that. You’re a feminist, and you think it’s great Kate is shagging someone half her age. What’s the deal with Training Wheels?

Polly (falling back into the sofa, covering her face): I don’t know, okay? I don’t know. It shouldn’t be awkward, but it’s awkward. And I hate that it’s awkward, and it’s all my fault, because I let it become awkward.

Me: You’re going to have to talk to him about the clitoris.

Polly (sitting up and suddenly proper in my face): Oh my God, Phoebe, can you stop going on about the stupid clitoris?

Me: Okay. So if you want a vaginal orgasm, and you’re on the bottom, you have to tilt your pelvis upwards.

Polly (clearly imagining this): I hate my life.

Me: It can’t be that difficult.

Polly: You have no idea.

Me: People like you are the reason why women still struggle in the world.

Polly (looking at me like I’ve actually gone insane):…

Me: Because you don’t insist on having what should be yours.

Polly:…

Me: So every time you and Tristan do it, he has an orgasm, right?

Polly: I’m sure I’ve told you this before, but sometimes I wish you sounded less like a textbook.

Me: It’s all textbook stuff.

Polly (sipping her drink): And they say romance is dead.

Me: No, listen. Training Wheels having an orgasm totally makes sense in a biological way. But you’re not there to make a baby.

Polly: Definitely not.

Me: So the sex is for fun.

Polly: And because I love him.

Me: But it should be enjoyable.

Polly: I didn’t say it wasn’t enjoyable.

Me: I’m sorry, but you need to insist you get what you came there for.

Polly: God, I’m a failure as a woman.

Me: Not what I said. But you and Tristan wouldn’t make dinner together and then only he gets to eat it.

Polly (lying back down on the Starbucks sofa, dramatically throwing her arms over her head): I’m responsible for suppression. Misogyny. The gender pay gap.

Me:…

Polly: Because I don’t insist on getting what’s rightfully mine.

Me (nodding): Basically.

Talking to Polly felt like the months of awkwardness never happened.

And for the first time in ages, I saw her as her own person again, not like this total weirdo who just follows Tristan around.

Maybe she’s changed back a little bit now that she’s more settled in her relationship?

It must be frustrating for her, putting in the effort when they have sex and getting fuck-all in return.

I honestly don’t understand it. Just say the words: I’m sorry, but what you’re currently doing with your penis is not effective. Please use your mouth.

Or something.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t get how people have the energy for it at all. Life’s hard enough without a (shit) sex life.

I hope Polly at least remembers to tilt her pelvis next time.

PS: Religious Studies 2 was fine. I reckon the rabbi would be pleased. And now I don’t have to think about any of it ever again in my life. Phew! Very glad that box has been ticked.

Thursday, May 17 #NationwideMentalBreakdownAlert

Kate left an article from the Guardian on the kitchen table for me with the headline: “Stress and anxiety: How the new GCSE is affecting mental health.”

I didn’t read it, to be honest, but I don’t have to because I’m basically living it.

Matilda has stopped taking in liquids now, because she doesn’t want to have to go to the toilet, which is unhealthy and will give her kidney failure. And just as we were going over to take Chemistry 1 this morning, Jonathon Luo was so nervous that he threw up into a bin in the courtyard, and because apparently Miriam Patel can’t watch people throwing up without throwing up herself, she also puked, but in the toilets.

And because everyone was being sick, the whole room smelled of sick, and I was literally dry-heaving all the way through the exam.

In the afternoon we had Computer Science 2, and at that point all I wanted was to be done with it. I know that attitude sucks, but whatever.

Oh, and PS: On the bottom of the article from the Guardian, there’s even the number for the Samaritans, should anybody feel suicidal.

That’s so bad, isn’t it?

PPS: I didn’t go to the thrift shop today, because I’ve got my final French