the world is your oyster card

Westminster; London

You can tell him. You can list the reasons why. You’re pretty good at lists. You can list them over and over. You can count them out like sheep in your head until you forget what the outcome you want from the lists are. Replace the confusion with items from the list and try to lean on to one side of an outcome, only so that you can sleep. You still don’t know.

You can kiss him. Kiss the words into his lips in the hopes that he understands that this minute, second, is perfect. Press your head hard onto his chest in the hopes that he knows that this minute, second, is perfect. But deep inside, you press your head hard onto his chest because you are uncertain if this is the last time you want to have him close to you.

You sit at a coffee at a coffee shop. You can sit in a coffee shop for an hour. An hour more of each other’s company but also an hour less you have for another while. You sit there holding on to his arm but not one word spoken. Looking around, analyzing every inch of the place - except the suitcase in front of you. Observe people working, college students studying, chuckle at the child who spilled their drink two tables down. And there you two are, muttering: “we’ll work something out,” to fill the silence.

You can stand at a train station. You can stand at a train station for an hour. You keep standing there - hands holding tighter. You stand there in front of him, both glancing at other people until the last possible minute until you really have to stop avoiding one another. You say goodbye – make an attempt to say goodbye, at least.

You both stand there. You both stand in the middle of a train station in the hopes that this will be the last goodbye, though at the same, in the hopes that it won't be. It’s tiring. Not the air miles, not the train tracks. The constant reminder of: it is what it is.

There will be days when all you want to do is spend it with that person, and days where you wish things could have been done differently. But it is necessary to never question something that once made/still makes you happy. I guess that’s what makes it exciting: the uncertainty of not knowing when it is possible to act this way with that person again.


football for the boys, shopping for the girls

Cherry blossoms; Southwark, London

" is no more than a petal of cherry blossom; thriving and in full bloom one minute and blown to the ground by a sudden gust of wind the next. We shouldn't take our life for granted and we should do whatever we can to make ourselves happy."


strawberry heaven

Summer's dinner; Oxford Street

Liege waffle with freshly whipped cream, drizzle of Belgian chocolate fudge and fresh strawberries.