Thirty7 Weeks

Written on 11.04.09 on the bus on the way home.

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I went into the city today. It's not a place I visit often. Every street held a memory, or memories I should say. The busker in Forrest Chase, Bocelli's, the main square, full of potential bike tricks, the coffee shop we sat at for iced tea, the souvenir store that only sold 'useless' things. The record store, the clothes shop, London Court. It's never ending really.

I remember holding your hand. I couldn't get close enough to you. Just the thought that I had to soak up as much of you as possible because the months to come would rely on me being able to bring back those memories, those feelings.

My phone went off this morning, I thought it was M so I didn't check it straight away. It was probably an hour before I did and I saw your name, under your picture on the screen.

Boom. Skip. Boom.

I'm guessing you were out drinking with your mates. I wonder if I'm right. If I am then my smile will no doubt have gotten a lot bigger. Even when you're busy you still think of me.

I suppose when you left, as much as you care about me, your life there will get busier and you won't have the time to think about me. Between riding, work, friends and family, I have to take a back seat. Eventually, I still think that will happen. I'm kinda hoping it doesn't.

I'm hoping that these next 35 weeks apart do us both some good. We can both get our lives sorted, so that when December comes around, we both know exactly what we want.

It feels like you've been gone ages but God I love Skype. I don't know how we'd be if we didn't have it.

I'm so excited for you and your new job. It's awesome and I really can't stop grinning like a fool when I think about it.

You're full of surprises, sometimes I'm convinced one thing will happen and it never does.

In some ways you're the same guy I met NYE last year, you're still you, you're still gorgeous and you still second guess yourself but in so many more ways you're not that guy.

People talk about just knowing. I think I know what they mean.

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This is getting easier. But it still hurts.


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