My boyfriend was in South Africa, and I was in London. He had been gone for 10 days, and wasn’t due back for months and months.
I was already feeling slightly depressed when I went to Tesco after work. The sound of the love songs playing over the tannoy and sight of numerous men picking up bunches of supermarket flowers didn’t do much to alleviate my mood. But imagine how much better I felt when the checkout assistant scanned my ready meal for one, bottle of wine, and pack of cat food, smirked, and said, “Better luck next year.”