Nerd Girl(118)

Argh! Julia, you really do need therapy. Professional therapy. Not only was I talking in third person, now I was trying to convince myself that I was worthy. I felt like the poster child for those self-affirmation posters—”Like yourself, but don’t do what I did.”

I wanted to believe that Ryan really did fall in love with me. He broke off an engagement for me. He made some really difficult choices to be with me. I knew he had a responsibility to Catherine because of their history together and the guilt over her brother’s death, but Ryan overcame those obstacles to be with me. He said it himself once—I made him feel free. I guess the problem with that, though, is that free birds can easily fly away.

Regardless, he didn’t love me enough to stay with me or to fight for us. I couldn’t compete with his lifetime of responsibilities and his memories with Catherine. Ryan was just too good of a person. He wasn’t going to turn on Catherine, especially during a time when she needed him the most. Even if I were the most wonderful woman on the planet, I knew I could never compete with cancer.

God, I was a horrible person for even thinking that. No matter how shitty my life was, it was nothing compared to what Catherine was going through. I half-expected lightning to strike our plane down right now. I couldn’t even properly feel sorry for myself without a huge guilty conscience. I honestly didn’t know how to deal with all of my conflicting emotions. I didn’t know if my heart was ever going to recover from this.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked over to see the flight attendant asking me to remove my headphones.

“Can I get you anything to drink, ma’am?”

“Vodka.” I turned to look out the window and watched the rain fall onto the tarmac as our plane departed the gate.





“You’re fucking kidding me,” Dexter moaned. “The universe is so unfair.”

Dexter and Jamie were both shaking their heads. We were in the middle of eating our dinner and I had just relayed the story of Ryan, Catherine, my job, Ryan, Catherine’s illness, and why I now found myself eating dinner at their flat in London.

“It’s the story of my life,” I said, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

“You don’t deserve this, Julia. You’ve been dumped twice in one year. That totally sucks,” Dexter said sympathetically.

“Thanks,” I answered with a wry smile.

“Here, you need some more wine,” Jamie encouraged as he re-filled my glass.

Since I arrived mid-day, I knew the best way to fight jetlag was to just stay up all day—I went from the airport to the train station, where Dexter met me, to their flat to drop my luggage, and then we ran errands on foot. I was happy keeping Dexter company, and now, with the delightful combination of a lack of sleep, wine, and the rich seafood fettuccine in front me, I knew I was going to totally crash tonight. After Dexter and Jamie coaxed all the sordid details out of me, of course.

“I don’t think I’ve heard a more pathetic story,” Jamie lamented, drawing out the ‘or’ of his last word with his Scottish accent. “I mean, you can’t even hate him for what he did, can you? His decision was quite noble, actually. You just got the bloody hell end of the stick.”

“You know, I thought you guys were trying to cheer me up. So far, neither of you are doing a great job of it,” I teased, arching an eyebrow.

“We are going to cheer you up just as soon as we fully empathize with your current situation,” Dexter assured me. “I’m trying to digest how you’re even here and you haven’t thrown yourself off of a bridge yet.”

“Yes, we just want to fully appreciate how shitty your love life is and how the universe has cosmically and royally screwed you over before we try to even attempt cheering you,” Jamie added.

“My pathetic story is less pathetic than both of your attempts at cheering me up,” I said. I couldn’t help laughing, though.

“See, its working!” Dexter exclaimed. He held up his glass of wine and motioned for Jamie to do the same. They clinked their glasses together, celebrating their little success. I laughed again and added my glass to the celebration.

“We’re so good at this, Dexter. We should start a therapy club,” Jamie suggested, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

I couldn’t help laughing more. It felt good to smile again, even if it was only fleeting. “All right, guys, what are you two boys really going to do with your sad, pathetic friend this week, huh?”

“Sweet girl,” Dexter said endearingly, “you definitely came to the right place. Jamie and I are going to take great care of you. First of all, you should feel free to do whatever it is you feel the need to do. You can cry, get drunk, or have a shameless one night stand.”