Free internet on the train, because I'm in a carriage that's half Standard Class and half First Class. That's good, isn't it?
I yearn for a romantic/dating experience that is genuinely really exciting, not contrived, feels like the right thing to be doing, not like riding someone else's bicycle, or wearing the wrong shoes. I yearn to feel that achy, pleasing, not-knowing feeling, that hope, that gleeful infatuation. I yearn to be that little bit out of control of how I feel. A little bit overtaken by hormones. In a good way. I yearn, even for that 'oh yes' feeling that I've had with places to live, jobs, opportunities but never, yet, really with a partner. Not really really. That's not to knock some of the delicious people who have been kind enough to fill my belly with butterflies and make me smile without meaning to When They're Not Even There... But it's not what I hear it can be.
Perhaps I'm not putting enough into it. This has been suggested to me many times before. Perhaps I need to buy a skirt and buck up my attitude. Perhaps I need to stop thinking about it. Perhaps I need to, as a sibling said many years ago 'choose to accept that it's not going to happen and get on with living your life to be as happy as you can in every other way'. I can't say I really took it entirely in the spirit in which it was meant, which was in fact very positive indeed. My cross face only comes back when I'm deciding to be cross about it. The intention behind it was just to get on with being happy and not let that get in the way. It's a simple game, and one worth playing. I think I play it now. Perhaps it's because of what she said. Perhaps not.
Thankful for my free internet, for my fabulous room (top floor, view across the city, furthest room from anywhere - very pleasing) and my flat double bed with starfish sleeping potential. That'll do, pig. That'll do.
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