Love Is for Losers by Wibke Brueggemann (ebook pc reader .txt) 📗

I think I love Emma.

Sunday, June 10 #Death

4:24 A.M.

Melanie died.

Kate just rang. She’s going to help with things at the hospital, and then she and Pat are taking Bill home.

I still can’t believe any of it.

Melanie was fine.

Her picture is going to be in the Wimbledon Gazette tomorrow.

9:15 P.M.

Kate finally came home at nine this morning and went straight to bed.

James visited for a few hours, but went to work at four, so I made dinner and woke Kate at six.

Kate said it’s always very difficult when old people have been together for such a long time and one of them dies, because they are entirely codependent. She said she hopes that Bill doesn’t die of grief.

Melanie would be so disappointed if that happened. Or maybe she’d be flattered?

Monday, June 11 #TheDead

I had to take Biology 2 this morning and Geography 3 this afternoon. After yesterday I honestly don’t know how I did it.

I told Polly about Melanie after lunch, and she was just like: “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you’re even here.” And then when we walked to Geography 3, she held my hand, not Tristan’s.

Polly is brilliant.

Melanie’s funeral is on Friday.

How strange to think that her body is lying somewhere all dead and cold until then.

I wonder how many more dead people are currently lying around waiting to be buried or cremated.

I’ve never been to a funeral, and I actually don’t know if I want to go. It’s going to be all sad and horrible, and I think the coffin with Melanie in it will be in the church/room.

PS: Our picture in the Wimbledon Gazette looks hilarious.

Next week Melanie’s obituary will be in it.

PPS: I just tried Googling “How many dead, unburied people are currently on Earth?” but Google doesn’t know, which is confusing, because Google knows everything.

I suppose I could always try to work it out by looking at how many people died last year, then dividing that number by the number of days of the year, and then working out an approximate number, but I’m too tired.

11:43 P.M.

There are approximately 151,506.85 dead, unburied, and uncremated people on planet Earth right now. And Melanie is one of them.

Good night.

Tuesday, June 12 #Math3

I had anxiety dreams all night about showing up for Mathematics 3 without a calculator despite having plastered sticky notes all over the house to remind me to take it.

The exam was fine.

Polly (vaginal scroll in place) just grinned like an idiot, and I was like: “Did it go all right, then?” But she was just like: “It’s over, Phoebe, that’s all that matters right now. A dark cloud has shifted, a heavy weight has been lifted, oh, I’m such a poet.”

I never should have told her about the tilting of the pelvis, because quite frankly, she’s even more in love, a.k.a. insane now.

She asked me about Melanie, though, and wanted to know how I was doing, and I just shrugged, because sometimes things are what they are, and it sucks. So Polly gave me one finger of her Kit Kat and told me she loves me.

I’m sad about Melanie dying, but I’m mostly sad about Bill feeling sad.

Wednesday, June 13 #Chemistry

I was surprisingly motivated this morning, because I was like: Okay, superb knowledge of chemistry and chemistry-related problem solving is going to be vital when exploring outer space.

All last night I was willing my brain to take a mental photograph of the periodic table, but it never happened/developed, which is fine, because it wouldn’t actually have been helpful.

The exam went fine, and tonight we had Bill over for dinner.

I hadn’t seen him since the hospital.

It sounds like Pat has taken over his life, which is great, because there’s so much ridiculous stuff people want you to get on with, like death certificates, canceling bank cards, insurances, etc.

How awful having to deal with all that crap when all you really want to do is curl up in a ball and cry.

One of the nondesigner kittens loves Bill. It came over, licked his shoe for ages, then it clawed its way up his yellow corduroy trousers and went to sleep in his lap.

PS: I have concluded that emotional attachment is not a good thing.

I understand that through the history of evolution humans were better off in groups, and forming emotional bonds made sense, but we’re not exactly hunter-gatherers anymore.

I don’t ever want to be like Bill or Emma, so heartbroken and sad.

PPS: I have no exams tomorrow, so I am going to sleep until I’m no longer tired. Emma has Spanish.

Thursday, June 14 #DustToDust

So the one day I could sleep in I was up at seven. Life.

I studied for Physics 2 in the morning and went to the thrift shop in the afternoon.

It felt all wrong with one person now forever missing.

Emma came in after her Spanish exam. I hadn’t expected to see her, so that was nice. She now hugs me every time she sees me, and I’m wondering if that will stay the same once we stop being sad about Melanie.

Alex, as always, had all the answers to life’s greatest question, saying that we come from dust, and when we’re done living, we become dust again, and that even the Earth is going to crumble to dust one day.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him, mainly because Melanie is being cremated, that it’ll actually go up in flames first when our sun goes supernova.

I suppose he does have a point, though.

Kate’s picking me up after my exam tomorrow, and then we’re getting Emma. The funeral is at two thirty.

I don’t want to go.

PS: My stomachache is back.

I swear it’s psychosomatic.

Friday, June 15 #Funerals

Emma and I held hands today.

At the funeral.

Which means that I don’t know what that means.

Before we went into the little chapel at the crematorium, I was like: “I really don’t want to go,” but Emma was just like: “Phoebe, unlike at the hospital, this isn’t