Loveless

by Alice Oseman

“Because I’m shit and she deserves better. I can’t fall in love, anyway. I’ll get over this. Pip should be with a nice person.”

“I’m the one who can’t fall in love. I think you just don’t want to.”

Rooney was so good at pretending she was fine. Even now I sometimes failed to spot when she was spiraling.

Were we going to be OK? “I don’t know,”

Be yourself. Talk to her. Maybe try saying nice things sometimes.

Sometimes I woke up in the night and couldn’t go back to sleep because I started thinking about the future,

I was alone. I was alone now.

I knew her better than anyone. Anyone in her whole life.

Were we not enough for her in the end? Was I not enough?

Even after everything, I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t be a good friend to her. I couldn’t make her feel like she mattered in my life.

I’d never cried in front of her. I’d never cried in front of anyone.

I just like coming out here and … feeling like everything’s calm.”

“I didn’t think anyone would really care about it. It was just my thing that I did to clear my head.

“I’m … very scared of … getting close to people.

it would have been the first time with someone I actually … cared about. With someone who cared about me too.”

“I just care about you so much … but I’ve always got this fear that … one day you’ll leave. Or

“I’m never going to fall in love, so … my friendships are all I have, so … I just … can’t bear the idea of losing any of my friends. Because I’m never going to have that one special person.”

“I mean I want to be your special person.” “B-but … that’s not how the world works, people always put romance over friendships—

“I realize that I love you, Georgia.”

I’m not romantically in love with you. But I realized that whatever these feelings are for you,

“I feel like I am in love. Me and you—this is a fucking love story! I feel like I’ve found something most people just don’t get.

I feel at home around you in a way I have never felt in my fuc...

most people would look at us and think that we’re just friends, or whatever, but I know that it’s ju...

“You changed me. You … you fucking saved ...

I’ve felt happier over the past few weeks than I have in years.”

couldn’t think of anything because you’re the brains in this friendship.”

But it felt like a lot to me. It felt like what we were doing mattered.

All of these scenes are, in one way or another, about love

Pure, toxic, romantic, platonic—we wanted to explore all sorts.

it matters to all of us. Quite a lot. And Georgia deserves to have something made just for her. So, this one’s for you, Georgia. This is a play about love.”

I was nervous, sure. But a normal level of nervous, mixed with excitement to perform, to act, to do the thing I really, really enjoyed.

both of us needing the other but wanting to be free from our magical bond.

We didn’t have to say it, but we all knew. We all knew what we’d found here. Or, I did, at least. I knew. I’d found it. And this time there was no big declaration. No grand gesture. It was just us, holding each other.

still had days where I wasn’t brimming with confidence about my sexuality, despite all the days where I felt proud and grateful that I knew who I was and what I wanted.

I was a little nervous about going back to a solo bedroom. Sleeping in a silent room with just my thoughts.

they’re each experiencing their own issues with love and relationships and working towards their own form of self-acceptance, just like Georgia is.

Except I’m not reasonable or sensible and I want to stay here.

“Here’s our own hands against our hearts.”

A girl gets a little curious; I fall in love with her; she realizes she doesn’t actually like me that much; I end up devastated.

I’ve been through that and I’m not letting it happen again. Not with someone I genuinely like as a person.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

I am the most embarrassing person in the whole world.

Thanks so much for making me immediately fall in love with you.

practically cured all my sleep problems—she’s like a warm beacon of calm, making me feel safe and relaxed and at home.

It’s not her fault that I’ve managed to develop yet another crush on a girl who will almost certainly break my heart.

A boy she loved—or, at least, thought she did, so much that she dropped everything for him. She changed her life. Discarded her hobbies. Forgot her friends. Became someone else.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks at the end of her story. And I can’t stop myself. “I just want to hug you,” I say. She doesn’t say anything for a moment. And

“I think it really fucked me up a bit. I think after that … I dunno. I stopped even being able to imagine myself in a real relationship. It didn’t feel realistic. So I just kept to myself. I didn’t even try to … you know. Put myself out there.”

Raw. No quips. No gibes. Just feelings.

fighter. Someone who puts on a face to fight those battles, even when she’s hurting, even when she’s scared.