They say anything is possible with imagination.

The antithesis to that statement, of course, is that the imagination sometimes shows you the possibilities which hurt you the most.

In the first stages of being passed over by someone you spent an incredible night with, this series of happy scenarios are probably what cause the most pain.

For myself, I picture the relationship we could have had – the one I felt developing shortly after we met.

I picture walking through Covent Garden holding his hand. I see us happily exploring London together. I feel the warm weight of his arm under my hand as we sit n the theatre.

Each vivid vision of the creative mind’s eye, enhanced and enriched by that emotional sensibility the writer relies on, is a fresh wave of nauseating emotional hurt.

The sense of betrayel is usually also rife – the notion that someone you couldn’t imagine hurting you is suddenly the director of this army; his primary generals being regret, shame, grief, anger and self-pity.

Why Mr. Andrew chose to hurt me like this I don’t know. Perhaps offering to just be friends was a mistake, on top of all the others I’ve (evidently) made in this situation.

When someone held you safe and warm in their arms, told you how beautiful he thought you were and, for one night, made you feel like the most special person in London…..did it really all mean nothing?

Perhaps I did name this blog appropriately.

Perhaps hoping I’d move to London, make a fantastic career for myself and fall in love with someone special was, at heart, just vanity.


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