Dating

Dating

It hurts to be wanted for your company and not your heart,
for someone to want to know you but not to love you.
To stand, fuzzy headed on a busy London street watching hungry eyes dance across your body as inside you start to cry.
Because you know that in a week they’ll start to ignore your texts and in a month it’ll be as if that magic night of compatible minds
never happened.

You say it’s not me, that I deserve something you just can’t be
right now.
That it kills you.
That I’m special.
Yet I will feel redundant and I will feel erased and I will lie in bed, lonely and afraid that this will always be the case. 
I will think of ways to be smaller, of how I might shrink myself into something half my size.
Then I will remember, that it is better to stand as one than to stand compromised. 
I will wake up to warmer skin and notice how I stand taller, all of a sudden more beautiful than I was before.
And I will try again:
I will give you the benefit of the doubt and throw my cynicism into a bin on the underground. 
Because love hurts until it doesn’t. 
Right?

What I've Learned Since Graduating

What I've Learned Since Graduating

The Londoner

The Londoner