Illustration commissioned by me for the piece, by Georgia Coote
An article about music and the stages of love. From the beat in your heart to the post-six month romance trials.
I’m not going to lie to you. Valentine’s Day didn’t start as well as some people’s obviously did. The flaunting has been hard to avoid. I don’t know how I feel about these hearty couples. Jealous/sick/admiring/touched. For me, all I can say was that there were certainly no freshly squeezed orange juice glasses on the side table, and croissant crumbs left in the bed. For one; it was 6.30am, for two; we ‘don’t do’ Valentine’s Day, and for three; we have smashed all our glasses (not through venom). Thus I give you 6.30am – 6.32am: Me: “Meh, I’m sick, knives have fallen into my throat and got stuck.” Him: “Huh, oh no.” Me: “Feel my forehead, there’s fire I tell you, fire.” He puts palm on my forehead: “Yeh you’re a bit warm. You look a bit sick. Have a lie in.” Me: “Ummm so Valen..” Him: “No, Hels *chuckle*, there’s no Valentine’s here. Now, see you later. Be productive!” Me: “Oh yeh.” He puts his forefinger out for the double forefinger touch (because he blatantly thinks I am horrid and contagious), and he’s gone.
Mine and Charlie’s own overplayed song.
Full article, click HERE