Friday, 3 June 2011

Boyz there, how many?




The Accountant... showed me that all the diamonds in the world can't make me love someone.

The Drummer... was my first love. Beer filled nights, peach satin sheets and piercings. He taught me that it is possible to love someone more than you love yourself. Even if that love is teenage, all-consuming and fleeting. And partially just because he's everything your parents don't like.

The IT Student... showed me true romance. 100 red roses, a 300 mile drive through the night just to make me smile, chips on the beach. But also the most heart wrenching break up in living memory.

The 18 Year Old... taught the 21 year old me about longevity and never giving up hope. Three years and more happy times than I can count. Death metal, lip piercing and the sweetest nature. I could not say a bad word about him.

The Teacher... taught me that, sometimes, love is destructive. It hurts. Love can turn to hate so quickly and, sometimes, things can get more messed up than you ever imagined. 18 months that took exactly 18 months to get over. I no longer look back, in anger or otherwise.

And then there was The Little One... a connection when I least expected it. The kind that blindsides you on a grey Sunday afternoon in January. Feelings of hope and excitement, and even trust, that you thought were lost forever. The sheer ohmygodIcannotstopkissingyou that makes you feel like a teenager again. Laughter, late nights and chemistry. No regrets. Ever.


And now? There is me. Just me.

And that's all I need.