The London Love Letter

Two sausages. Brown bread. No sugar. How do I begin to say goodbye to a nation?

Dear reader, I lied. I lied to London. I lied to you. Four years in this city and I have learnt only three things; sexy doesn’t have to be uncomfortable and rejection is temporary. You taught this to me. My dear girlfriend; my special specie, you are so happy that I found you; I am so sad to have to leave you. Forget hashtags and hash browns, I truly believe that our love is stronger than two tear drops glued together.

Let me be clear, I will miss you terribly; like an iPhone user misses their charger but it’s tough to stagger words on tissue paper when the whole world thinks you are dating a ghost.

Yours for now,

Martins.

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