Enough. Enough now.

Or, A small update on The Boy…

I walk past his office twice a day to get to mine. I travel to and from the station he lives closest to, whenever I go to a gig. I look for him (of course I do) and I expect to see him in these places.

Where I don’t expect to see him is in the middle of the afternoon on a Friday, in Victoria Station, bag packed, waiting for another girl. A petite, beautiful girl.

I nearly threw up.

Enough. Enough now.


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