A Prius arrives very quickly and I hop inside and we begin to drive along empty main roads at way over the speed limit.
As I stare out of the car windows at street-light-illuminated rain, I realise that the evening hasn’t all been shit. Yes, the Lola thing has been gut-wrenchingly awful, but meeting Bea, Ruth, Carole and Nadia and forming our little group is the kind of experience that happens very rarely and really does restore your belief in the inherentdecencyof people. I really do think we’ll probably stay in touch. And the fake-plus-one thing: I mean, given that I will almost certainlynotbe getting back together with Lola after all, and, having been reminded of Lola, am unlikely to want to date anyone else any time soon, it could be like a genuine gift from heaven to avoid are-you-dating questions. And I’m sure that Nadia will understand if I have to pull out of our agreement if Lola and I do get back together.
Yeah, Lola and I are clearlynotgoing to get back together. I know that. It’s really difficult not to hope, though.
I’m home way more quickly than I should have been, due to the driver’s speeding (I point out to him when I get out that it’s dangerous to drive that fast on residential roads and realise from the look in his eye that he’ll be giving me a one-star passenger rating), and go straight to bed, because I’m very tired.
* * *
I cannot sleep. It’s 3.45a.m. and I am wide, wide awake. Too much caffeine. And too many circular thoughts about Lola. It’s weird. I’m not usually a big thinker like this, I usually just get on with things, but apparently tonight I can’t.
I never have insomnia. Unsurprisingly, it’s as shit as everyone unfortunate enough to suffer with it regularly says it is.
I ask the internet what to do. The internet has a lot of advice.
I turn my pillow over to the cool side. Doesn’t work. I feel very drowsy for a minute and then think about how I willnotbe sharing a pillow with Lola and suddenly I’m wide awake.
I get up and walk round the room. Doesn’t work in the slightest. It makes me feel less drowsy.
I get up and go to the kitchen and have a glass of water. Now I’m even wider awake. Who knew that water was a stimulant. (I Google and the internet tells me that it isn’t unless you were dehydrated before you drank it. Maybe I was.)
I make a list of things I’m worried about. Lola. Monday lunchtime’s tricky work meeting. The leak in my bathroom. Feeling like shit for the next couple of days because of being up all night tonight.
At least it’s Sunday and I have nothing on today. Thank goodness my parents’ extended family barbecue has been postponed until next Sunday because of the extreme rain this weekend.
The thought of the barbecue reminds me of Lola again because, if I’m honest, before they postponed it I think I might have been imagining taking her there with me. I am really not going to be amused by the chat there will be about how I am now theonlyone of my siblings and cousins still not married for life. I can literally hear my Aunt Laura going ‘tick, tock, Tom,’ and then cackling with laughter.
I wonder if Nadia’s free next Sunday. Wecouldkick off the plus-one thing right now.
On the spur of the moment, I send her a message asking her.
And then I…
* * *
Yeah, thankfully I went to sleep.
Also thankfully, I didn’t set an alarm, so I actually get six hours’ sleep in before I wake up, very disorientated because I basically never have a lie-in.
The first thing I do (pathetically) is reach for my phone and check for a response from Lola. I can see that she’s been active online in the past half hour (and I know that she saw my message last night) but there’s nothing. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, but gives me a sinking, life-is-just-boringfeeling all over again.
I haven’t heard back from Nadia but I’m sure I will. She’s one of those people who you sense from the off are reliable.
Okay, I’m not going to wallow. I’m going to go to the gym and then message my mate Dom to see if he wants to go for a couple of beers later. It would be ridiculous to let this Lola thing get to me too much. I hadn’t even thought about her for a while before she texted last week.
I am not going to think about her any more.
I think about her the second I get out of the shower when I check my phone for the message she has of course not sent. It’s becoming aridiculouscompulsion.
I don’t let myself look at my phone until after I finish in the gym.
Lola has obviously not messaged.
Bea has, though. She’s reiterating her invitation to us all to their wedding, which will be very soon. That makes me smile.
And Nadia has replied. It turns out she’s one of those people who sends a stream of messages rather than one long one. Also, she likes a capitalised emphasis.
Morning (just). I had a big lie-in. I could NOT get to sleep after all that coffee – did you sleep??
