The chair I'm sitting in is the chair in which I lost my faith in love. It reeks of lonely realisation. Although maybe the chair and I are reassessing our relationship. This is probably far safer than reassessing my relationship with love, who has clearly lost the plot and at any minute now might get drunk and start singing show tunes.
Still single. Thirty four, and fighting crime with sexy results.
I won't be back here again.
I'm spent.
x
Matt
