No milk today

I am sitting here at my kitchen table. As usual here in England, it is raining. For the first time in a long time, the weather corresponds to my mood. Yesterday evening, my love (I still call her that - I still love her) decided to leave me. She packed her bags and left. Just like that. She left the kingdom where she had reigned as queen, and she left me behind. So now I sit here, staring out at the rain, thinking of the sodden note outside my door - No milk today. The empty bottle from yesterday is standing lonely beside it. The people who pass my nondescript door don't know the significance of this little note - it seems a common enough sight. How could they know that this message means the end of my all hopes and dreams? How could they know how good things were only yesterday, and how much everything has changed?

We had wonderful parties, dancing through the night. Everyone was  happy, and I was probably the happiest of them all. As the music played, we danced faster and faster, swirling in each other's arms. We looked into each other's eyes, and we could both feel the spark becoming a flame. From that our romance just escalated. The fire burned higher and higher, fueled by the milk she was constantly drinking. She had no good explanation of this peculiar behaviour - she just said that she liked it. And I loved kissing away her milky mustache, so I didn't complain.

Now, I can't help but think of her when I see a milk bottle. And all that is left is this place, dark, empty, and lonely. I sit behind the lace curtains of the kitchen in my terraced house and peek out into the awful street outside. But this horrible, dark, lonely place becomes a shrine when I think about my love. It reminds me of the things we did together, and I remember my love for her. My little terraced house is just a two up two down, but still it can rise so high and fall so hard.

So, milkman, I will have no milk today - my love has gone away. The empty bottle on my doorstep is a symbol of the dawn after the endless party-night. Of waking up to reality after the fairytale dream world of the night. All that is left is this dark and lonely place where I sit staring out at the rain, and will probably be doing that for quite a while.

This is my interpretation of the song No Milk Today by Herman's Hermits. I have taken liberties with the story line, and this is strictly my interpretation. I do not pretend to know the true meaning of the song. Listen to the song below.