Dear Blog…

You know when you’re spellbound? When you feel locked to another? Lock and key, ball and chain…heart and heart? Well, I feel like that. There’s a sparkle that keeps me there, despite what sanity would say. His voice…


Oh, it’s absolutely gorgeous, as though it’s made of chocolate and caramel; a teasing, tantalising, touching mix of smooth and soft, and…well sexy. His laugh…that lovely northern laugh, it chills me to the bone, makes the hairs on my arms stand up, and yet it lights the fire within me, and so suddenly I feel dizzy.

They say that he’s not too great, they say that I’m protecting him, but I still say that he can sing like the amazing angel he is. Gorgeous, silky, oh-so-fabulous.

But I’m not obsessed. No, no, I shall never say I’m obsessed…because I’m not. Computer games were once said to be my ‘obsession’, but I got over that. It was all so different back then…


Oh, I don’t know! Part of me would like to believe that this is no obsession of the silliest, but pure passion. To me, it feels so much as if I am in love, and if I am not I shall despair when I lose what I feel about that man.


I dream about him, I do. It may be fantastical and ridiculous but he’s in my blood now. He is pure sunshine; my thrilling lifeline- just like the Alex B song:

When my world all comes crashing down/ I’ll know where to run/ Baby, you could be my lifeline.

Indeed, every time I think about him my heart beats a little quicker, and every time I think that I’ve reached the climax of my love, I just fall once again.


Have I said that before? He’s mesmerising, he’s teasing, he’s so caring…but he’s not mine. Oh, how it makes my heart burn with the fire, when I see that I can never slip my hands around his warm body, his wide shoulders and caress that soft baby-face of his.

I feel like a fool. I’ve held on too long and now I cannot lose him without drawing my own blood; he is a limb to me. Inside my body, inside my heart and inseparable.


But there I was, watching him play whilst notes twice as sweet and fives times more perfect tumbled from those blessed lips. Wow, I sound like I am writing a verbal poem.

It hit me then: there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for someone so handsome, so lovely, so kind and so, so spellbinding.

Years on…I still love him.

The End

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