You say hello.
It begins with a polite exchange.
We chat for an hour, and I refuse to be sour.
Maybe this one is different? Maybe this one is true?
I reveal some secrets and some hidden desires to you.
We speak of our future plans and goals in life,
And I speak of how I was once someone’s wife.
Another hour passes us by.
We have a lot in common by the way,
Or so you say…
And I begin to believe that things will be okay.
You convince me that we should meet.
I tell myself not to worry and that things could be sweet?
It would be nice to chat some more, but instead I allow myself to fall.
Because after all, I wouldn’t want to be a bore!
And maybe, just maybe this time I will truly score?
I begin to mentally prepare, because surely this one will actually care?
I decide on what to wear, and how I will do my hair.
We meet for a drink. It will only be one drink.
There’s no harm in one drink? No harm in two or three?
At least then I will be feeling a little free!
I have now messed up my hair, after things became bare.
But that’s okay, because surely this one will care!
I have learnt that there’s no need for shame,
Because, after all this is just part of the game.
I get home and days pass. I tell myself that I will never drink another glass.
I do not hear from you again.
This sort of behaviour, I am now used to accepting.
It is a vicious cycle that begins with attention and flattery.
It was what I had yearned for.
The things my life had been missing.
But now is the part where I begin to feel empty.
I thought things would be different this time, and that maybe things would be sweet?
It wasn’t love that I was searching for.
Just purely, something a little more.
Another vent. It needs some work!