A JOURNAL

About Rose:
I grew up in Singapore, lived in Melbourne but currently call London home. I love gastronomic adventures, especially while travelling. I stated writing at 17 to remember how it all began.


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21 September 2017

Thursday, 2.58pm

We spent Sunday aboard the Pullman steam trains on the Bluebell Railway in Sussex. On the "Golden Arrow", we sunk into the beautiful armchairs and wondered about the journeys between London and Dover back in the 1920s. Everything was divine from the inlaid wood panelling of the carriage to the three course meal served on silverware. We were transported back in time as white clouds puffed out of the locomotive leaving a faint trail behind as we travelled through the countryside. For the first time in a while, I felt the cheer returning and as we stood on the platform I once again leaned my head into the warmth of your chest as you embraced me.

How perfectly it was timed then that I felt I could reciprocate with a gesture after that lovely Sunday you planned. We went to Stamford Bridge yesterday and watched Chelsea trounce Nottingham Forest. Your eyes lit up, the night was raucous and we leapt to our feet each of the five (!) times that Chelsea scored that evening. You gasped when I didn't know who John Terry was, we laughed over the boisterous chants of the away supporters and we groaned over the dinner roast which we had too much of. We took a leisurely stroll home leaving the crowds behind and cooed excitedly over the evening that just transpired.

How I wish I could always make you so happy, I have been so morose lately that I can't help but feel like I am dragging you down. You are the brightest spark and I could not bear to see it tarnished. Yet you remain steadfast, ever supportive and encouraging. I cannot bear to let you or us down. I can only hope for the mettle and patience for the happier times to greet us soon again.

rose | 15:23


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