Shattered dreams and the loneliest train ride.

Sometimes in life, we get our hopes up beyond all reasonable expectation. More often than not, we end up disappointed and bitter.

So when I opened my copy of thelondonerpaper last month and found a love text seemingly directed at me, I swooned to the heavens and unleashed my deepest fantasies to consider just who the admirer on the tube could possibly be.

"To the young-looking, dark-haired male who I’ve seen several times on the Harrow-on-the-Hill to Watford train. Last time I saw you was on the platform at Harrow on 15 Nov during rush hour. You had a bad cough that day! Hope you’re better now! Drink sometime? ANON"

I was adamant that it was the blonde girl I'd spoken to around the time of the 15th. I remember her commenting on my cold and smiling at me, which is more than enough for any girl to capture my attention.

So for the last three weeks, there's been an unmistakable bounce in my step every time I've crossed the platform to wait for the Watford train. Newspaper tucked smugly under my arm, I'll take a gander at the commuters on the platform. I've noticed the same girl on a couple of occasions and subsequently given her a good eyeballing. Christ, I've even spluttered some suggestive coughs in her direction.

It's not that I'm legitimately attracted to the girl. I'm just determined to revel in my ascendance to Lovestruck eligibility.

Anyway, having returned home from the pub last night, the situation is - as they say - somewhat academic.

Far from being a bonafide Station Stud, I am merely the helpless pawn in a rather sinister prank.

This blog is where it all started.

If you read these entries in the middle of November, you may have noticed my unnatural affinity to the Lovestruck column. You'll also have read that I get the Harrow on the Hill to Watford train, and that I had a pretty nasty cold around the time of the 15th.

So yes, Mark Peskett, take a bow. I might have to hold you to that drink which you've so kindly offered.

Clearly, I've made an effort to avoid naming people in this blog. But for a swindle like that, you can have your fifteen minutes of fame. Rest assured, though, revenge will be sweet and all mine.
I haven't made my New Years Resolutions yet, but I'll be damned if this goes unreturned. You will pay.