Loneliness and the Righteous Harlot

It's Zoe's birthday soon. Zoe is the friend who was so upset to not be invited to our New Year's play party. She told us at the time that ours was a party 'she would expect to have been invited to' and that she thought of us as good friends. Now it's her birthday and we have word of a weekend of celebrations to which we haven't been invited. It might be because she knows we're busy (we are) but I'm not sure.

Do you think we're liked? I ask Virgil.

No, he says, but that doesn't bother me.

It bothers me, I say. I'm lonely. I think you're more liked than I am. You're better than me socially and nicer. I don't like anyone.

Virgil says he thinks I'm more liked than he is.

It's alright for Virgil. His work gives him a wide acquaintance. He doesn't need friends in order to do interesting things.

I wake up at night, from dreams of seeing him with other women, and I can't think who my friends are. I'm too focused on him to make proper time for friends. The friends I choose tend also to be slightly lonely, sad types so there are no groups. It's all a bit intense and one-on-one, not lighthearted.

I try to imagine how life would be without Virgil and whether there would be any fun in it. This has to be one of the unhealthier sides of being in a relationship.