Love Letter

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CC Image courtesy of tanakawho on FlickrThis is a love letter to the men who remind me it’s worth holding out for love. For someone wonderful. For someone who looks at you like you are their world.

Tall, slender Tobias with his stripy socks, throwing around words like ‘Brechtian’ that I’ve stopped pretending to understand. He became a father recently and he will be wonderful at it.

‘You’re the only person I’ve told that story to who got what I meant!’ This is Tristan. When he says things like that I don’t know whether to punch him or throw my arms around him.

Felix is a funny one, literally. When he joined the team I was wary in case I fell for him again, which I did. He makes me smile everyday.

I don’t know how Adrien became my agony aunt, but he did. This is him at his absolute best. He’s beautiful and bright and when I’m having a shit day he puts a bit of rope and a post-it with ‘Bye’ written on it on my desk and then I don’t feel so bad.

This is a love letter to the men I see everyday. Thank God.

CC Image courtesy of CocoMunkii on Flickr

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At the end of the day

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CC Image courtesy of Sue Hasker - Apologies to my followers for my rece on FlickrWhen I’m having a godawful day

With emails lining up like sentries

It is

Your smile

Your words that sustain me

Though they were brief

And unpremeditated

Given in passing as you left for the day

That brief minute

Minutes

When you stopped and chatted

About some fad or other

 

Each time I find we have less to say

And it matters more

CC Image courtesy of Rsms on Flickr

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What to Expect From Dating in Your 20s

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CC Image courtesy of The Shared Experience on Flickr

You will meet The One, the love of your life, the man you want to marry. Then a few weeks later, by which time you’ll have the order of his profile pictures by heart and all your friends will know his star sign – a few weeks later you’ll unexpectedly run into the guy and wonder what strong drugs you were on.

You will install every dating app known to man. After several weeks of Hinge-ing and Happn-ing you’ll start to wonder if the cute, sun-kissed guys on your screen actually exist… before remembering that cute and sun-kissed isn’t your type.

You will occasionally meet nice, attractive people the old-fashioned way – through friends. Nothing will happen with them either.

A painful experience of unrequited love in your early 20s will teach you precisely nothing.

If you don’t mind paying for his drinks you’re probably in love. If you keep the receipts in a box on your bedside table…

CC Image courtesy of stevendepolo on Flickr

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For You

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CC Image courtesy of raxenne on Flickr

you are lithe
live
in love with words
graceful
gazelle
restless
sure
weak
unsure
nervous
strong
sexy
deep
brown
eyes
watchful
intense

sexy again

you get me out of bed
you’d get me into bed
you’d stop me sleeping

you are my thoughts before my dreams
my stories star you
my poems too

come
come into my dreams
I dress for you
I’d undress for you
I look my best for you

I do the rest for you
I do it all for you

I do
I do

CC Image courtesy of eatmorechips on Flickr

 

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Say It With Clip Art

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CC Image courtesy of CameliaTWU on Flickr

I’d never told a guy ‘I love you’. I came close with my sixth form boyfriend.

‘I love… your hair.’

Close shave.

 

VP asked me, was I in love?

‘What – with you?’

It was a pertinent question since at that precise moment I was in love with several different people: Tristan, Max (always), Tobias Menzies (the real life version and probably the blog version a little bit), not to mention several people who have never existed but been dreamt up by various novelists.

I ummed and ahhed a bit, thanked God that we’d opted to Skype without cameras, recalled my mother‘s advice never to tell a man you love him (‘What, never? What about Daddy?’ ‘Oh yes, well, I might’ve, in a moment of weakness…’) and wound up:

‘I’m not not in love with you enough to keep doing what we’re doing.’

Which made sense in context, sort of.

 

Four minutes until the next train.

‘Damn.’

I’m getting later everyday.

In the lift I mentally rehearse an excuse which I know I won’t use, rather I’ll slip into my seat hoping my arrival has gone unnoticed. As long as I get my work done, I tell myself, it really doesn’t matter when I start the day.

I power up the computer, deposit my lunch in the fridge, get a glass of water. Back at my desk I find a new email waiting. In the subject line, ’09:53′. The body of it is blank. I do a quick Google, copy, paste and send. And there it goes: ‘I love you’, courtesy of Clip Art. That wasn’t so hard.

CC Image courtesy of MAGIC CHARM GRAFIX on Flickr

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