Catching Trains

I...I have to go

Push me away, then. 

A spark tingled my stomach. The gut feeling lasted a mere second before brain thoughts took over. What does this mean? This is stupid. We can't. We just can't. I don't want this, not like this. And I'm going to be late for my train.

Damn you. You can't do this just as I'm about to leave; what the hell, man. We had a pleasant afternoon. Nice. Lovely, in fact. But it wouldn't set the world alight and I knew that coffee and cake does not equate to a date and he's explicitly stated that he's not doing the distance thing, again. So flirting was minimal, from him, that is - I can't seem to help myself, however inappropriate the situation - and when we walk up to the station, I'm kind of sad and he's kind of polite and detached. Nice, pleasant and distant, as ever. Nothing more. Until...

 I can't.

I can't do this. I can't pretend that this is all okay. After the day we've had I'm not even sure it's there. But then one touch sends me into shivers and somersaults? He lightly circles my palm with his finger and oh gosh, I melt as easily as cheese on toast. In the freezing cold of mid-winter, a furnace is burning inside my body; pumping electricity around my veins. And I'm going to be late for my train.

 I..I have togo. I have to leave. I can't stay. I can't stay and slip inside a cosy coat and become intertwined with another body. I just can't and a part of me thinks he's doing this purely to spite me, to prove his point. To show that if we get any deeper into this thing, the feeling will just get worse, every time I have to leave. To demonstrate that distance is a real deal-breaker, not something that you can just forget about because the rest might fit.

I pass through the barriers and he doesn't even smile at me as I leave: detached, distant, done.

Gone. I turn away and bite the inside of my cheek to stem the tears.

I can't.

Flitterbox: Red Hot Chili Peppers ~ Scar Tissue
Flitterbook: The Language of Flowers ~ Vanessa Diffenbaugh

Sticky Threads

Flitterbox: Snow Patrol ~ Signal Fire

Fishy Wishes

"If it were not for hopes, the heart would break."

In my experience, if a guy wants something from you, he'll go for it.

If he wants to kiss you, he'll try to do so. If he wants your number, he'll get it, if he wants you to have his, he'll give it. If he wants to go on a date with you he'll hint, he'll ask, he'll ask again. If he wants to spend time with you, he'll travel across the country for just an evening together, he'll rearrange his plans to make sure there's time, he'll be enthusiastic if you suggest meeting up.

In my experience, if he wants it, he'll make the move to get it.

Pooh Sticks

"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday, I sat up for a long while with a boy and a beer and we chatted about cake and earrings and other Nice Things. I was sad and he was friendly and we talked in a way we hadn't before. We talked in a way we haven't since then and I'm not sure we ever will again. For shame

Forbidden Fruit

There's something awfully attractive about a someone that you can't or shouldn't have.

Pursuing that person can be wicked and cruel, not to mention a cause for tortured souls, but ultimately that is what is so delightful about it. Much of what is so deliciously exciting is the purely illicit nature. Maybe a smidgen of schadenfreude, but more than that is the sense of superiority and control over another person, even if it's not strictly in anyone's best interest. The knowledge that one has the ability to draw the favourable specimen away from its chosen prey and lure the object of desire to a focus elsewhere offers a sort of rush that is hard to rationalise. That you must be worth the potential risk, in some respect, for something to happen in the first place. Everyone loves to be in on a good bit of gossip, and to be at the core of a secret is the most exhilarating part of it. Teetering on the edge of being discovered, that tantalising mystery that surrounds every encounter creates a bittersweet taste that is hard to resist.

It's difficult to admit the challenge of the pursuit is what you like most.

Hooking Up

“You are so on the hook!”

Meaning: You are being strung along by a person whom you find attractive, but who has no intention of becoming your partner.

Whose fault is that? Two people: one would like to go out with the other. The other just sees the two of them as friends, nothing more, but perhaps enjoys the attention that arises as a result of being the object of someone’s affection. The pair have had a previous exchange in which intentions of each have been made unambiguously clear. Yet, they still hang out, they still chat, because they enjoy each other’s company or conversation or whatever.

Which is all fine and healthy, right?

Hippy Chic

I've become one of those girls.

You know, the kind that packs twice as many dresses as she has nights out planned, then buys a new outfit whilst away and decides to wear that instead. Oh dear. I've become one of those girls that thinks it's appropriate to wear leggings with nothing more than what is effectively a t-shirt, cos if it covers your bum, that's fine, right? Oh dear. I've become one of those girls that thinks that UGG-style boots are appropriate footwear for anything other than house-bound slippers. Oh dear.

Go Fish

Today, I have been fishing.

You know, often people say fishing is a dull past-time. I find it frustrating more than anything else. You wait for ages, dangling the bait in the river, and you wait and you watch and you hope... yet at the end of the day, you may come away with nothing but a sense of defeat despite the fact that you haven't lost anything, you just haven't gained anything, either. How unsatisfying.

Then again, there may be a day where you hang out your maggot and a fish takes at the first dip. Suddenly, you feel the tug and the struggle and you tweak the line and you know if you move an inch in the wrong direction, you'll lose it, the animal will swim away and you'll have nothing to show for it. But if you play it right and you pull it at just the right angle, at just the right moment, you know, you might reel in something worthwhile.

However, once you get that fish out of water, more often than not, you find it's not all that fantastic and the rush, the adrenaline - that excitement that you experience when you finally get the fish you've been longing to catch for so long - just dribbles away almost immediately. It's an awful lot of waiting for a terribly brief reward. Is it really worth it? In the end, all you're left with is an ordinary fish that looks like any other fish and so you throw it back to the sea and hold out for the next one and hope it's bigger and better and wish that when you get it, you'll want this one more than before.

After all, there's plenty more fish...

All cats love fish, but fear to wet their paws

On the jukebox: David Gray ~ Babylon