Just a taste of that world.
Someone looking at me in a way
I'm unaccustomed to.
It felt good at the time,
Flirting, dancing,
Holding hands with fingerless gloves,
That Irish accent murmuring
"No worries."
Thinking that at last
It's my turn.
The cold light of dawn.
Realising what it really meant.
That wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Not how I should be feeling.
Why haven't the pieces fallen into place?
Why don't I feel grown up?
Not a gateway, a diversion.
A wrong turn?
Or a necessary mistake?
Now I'm back with the same old fantasies,
Slightly cracked, but intact.
Still waiting.
Still a hopeless romantic.
Nothing's really changed.
I thought it was supposed to.
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