To my lovely girlfriend, when we cannot be together
A month ago we were sat in bed, eating Dominos (or falling asleep as it was arriving at the door, oops), getting ready for events, watching Rick and Morty, going to meet our friends on the Common, or doing a handful of other pretty standard IBP and HVH activities.
Today, I am sat in the sun, with a coffee and my diary and my fingers typing away. You would say that you could see smoke coming off my keyboard. You would normally say that sat across from me in The Bridge. I wish I could take a snapshot in my soul, of these things. Of our little life, bobbing along, sitting around, singing, baking bread while you sit on the freezer watching my mucky, floury hands make a mess of my bomb-site kitchen. Sitting on the kerb after karaoke, driving round the block a few extra times just to hear the end of ‘Flatline’, with the windows down, one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee.
But here I am. In the garden. You are just a 23 minutes drive down the road, and I cannot just pop by and tell you how much I’ve missed you. So we call, and text, and listen to music and watch Netflix together. It’s funny, this is such a huge change, and yet is the starter to the main course of change that is going to take place as we don our graduation gowns and try not to stumble on stage.
We know I don’t handle change well. But I am excited for this change. Don’t get me wrong, I am nervous as hell, it still makes me feel sick, but I am quietly excited for our next chapter together. I miss you so much, but this distance won’t be forever, and you know I will be in the car and on my way to you as soon as I can be.
To the snapshots in my memories, and the ones that haven’t been taken yet.