I’m having ‘one of those’ kind of nights, you know, the kind you see in films where the lonely, single female is crying into her glass of wine listening to Taylor Swift or something just as tragic, and realises that life cannot possibly get worse than this. I’m not one for self-pity, my motto is: ‘self pity is for suckers,’ poetic right? And trust me I don’t feel sorry for myself, in fact on the contrary I’m angry with myself for becoming such a cliché.
A small disclaimer before I get knees deep in my emotional baggage: I know that I don’t need a man to be happy. I’m also aware that I need to be happy within myself before someone else can truly be happy with me, I’ve given out fantastic, really unhelpful advice such as this a thousand times before. The thing is, I’m never the girl who cries over a male for more than a week, if they’re a dickhead, I’ll dump them, if they aren’t interesting enough then I’ll chuck them in the bin with all my other rubbish. Unfortunately, for the first time, I’ve actually fallen in love: unrequited of course. This is the part where I’m hoping to have a house swap with Cameron Diaz, move to L.A for a bit and have Jack Black fall head over heels in love with me. However, until then I basically have to put up and shut up (I’m sure this would never happen to Kate Winslet.) The worst part is we’re friends, good friends, and whilst I love seeing him, each time I do it kills me because he only ever wants me when he’s had far too many vodbull’s (vodka redbull apparently). Cliché right?
I’ve been trying so hard to be one of those independent women, move on and concentrate on having a good time with the girls (it’s what Beyonce would do) but apparently it’s harder than I first thought, especially on a lonely Saturday night. Since I’ve never had to get over someone before, I’m quite stuck on what to do at this point; I suppose I’ll watch ‘Serendipity’ and cry into my wine some more. Watching a film that buys into the idea of love being fated: worst idea ever? Probably. I’ll tell you one thing: Effy Stonem was right: “Love love love, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing”