Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown

Hey blog, do you mind me being whiny for a bit? If I had a diary I'd spare you this, believe me.

Oh blog, do you ever feel extremely single? And panicky, and realise how time seems to go so fast? I have to talk myself down sometimes, usually I'm not this bad but just lately it's been hard.

Oh, don't get me wrong, it's pretty much my fault. I'm such a stubborn bastard. Annoyingly patient, annoyingly positive; and I've got these ridiculous ideas of fairytales and love stories. Everyone tells me they don't exist, and I'm sadly starting to cave-in to their beliefs.

I've only had one fairytale experience: on the bus to Filton college. Every day I'd see her get on - the most beautiful girl ever. I never had the guts to talk to her, but one dull, rainy day - dripping wet - I got onto the bus. Every single seat was taken except one, right at the front, right next to her. What are the chances? It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

During the two years I spent at college I felt uglier than ever. And today I was soaking wet on a steamy bus. I sat next to her and said "Hi, sorry if I get you wet." Realising the innuendo and the circumstances I shut up and didn't expect a reply. So imagine my surprise when she started talking to me! I couldn't believe it! We talked all the way home, really enjoying eachother's company, and my feelings of ugliness were drowned in the conversation and excitement! I got off at her bus stop and could barley believe my own mouth when I heard the words "so, have you got a phone number?" stutter out of it. I was ecstatic when she actually wrote me a note with her name and number! We said our goodbyes and I practically danced all the way home!

Ever after that bus journey we sat next to eachother on every journey we made together - almost every day. I used to walk to meet her in Canford park to walk her dogs and stroll under the sun with her, totally stunned I had gotten to know her. We kept in touch for quite a while, though unfortunately I was too pathetic to get my act together and be her boyfriend. But even now she still sends me a text whenever I walk down her street. Nicola. My Suzy-Lee.

I suppose fairytales must exist! Just a matter of time. But it's so hard to keep yourself believing that, to keep the hope. I feel like a failure and am embarrassed even as to what my parents must think. Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be.