Sometimes...

Sometimes... and only very rarely... being single sucks. Usually, when you're walking home, at night, alone, through London, surrounded by smooching couples huddled up next to the Thames, looking out at the lights reflecting across the water, and you walk against wave after wave of men and women wrapped up warm, holding hands, laughing, hugging, and you're trudging along, MP3 player on as loud as it goes so you can't hear the idiot(s) who just accosted you in the street, leering at you and making lewd comments as you passed by... and you realise, no one's waiting for you at home, or going to call to make sure you got in ok.

But then, you get home, to your own space, have a bath, put on the TV, watch what you want without having to compromise, stretch out across the whole double bed, and think being single has it's plus points too.

And you get over it.

That was my 5 minutes of melancholy. Everyone gets them, that was mine... and it's passed. But I thought I'd share.