One year
August 14th 2008 11am. That was the last time I was in his arms.
I barely remember that morning -- the details have since faded away, leaving only a blur of images. When I think back now, the memory is simply of a dull ache in my heart, of the knowledge that those would be the final hours I would spend with my boy before we would be parted for a year. One year. It was never meant to be any more than that before we would have our whole lives together. How wrong could we have been?
The night before he left, we lay in each other arms, knowing that every tick of the clock meant that there were fewer precious seconds to spend together. We held each other and I cried, thinking of the void that would be left in my life when he'd gone. In the early hours of that day, we stood on the balcony in London Bridge, looking over our London. He said,"You touched my heart on our first date, halfway over Waterloo Bridge, when you stopped, took my hand and said to me "Look - that there is my London". And now it's mine too. Thanks for teaching me to appreciate the simple things in life".
That resonated with my soul. It was a memory I had all but forgotten, and it melted me that something I had said or done so unwittingly could have touched him so profoundly.
I remember the last touch of his hand, the last fierce hug he gave me, the last glance back as he stepped through the departure gate. When he'd gone, I wandered down the corridor of Gatwick airport and cried. And then my phone rang - my boy, calling me from the plane. He missed me already. He said, "Be strong for me". On my journey home, I could smell his scent on my skin.
That was one year ago this very day. We remain best friends, even though we both know that this will make it harder for the one of us when the other moves on. Despite the multitude of times I've cried, hurt and felt heartbroken and alone, I don't regret a single moment of our time together. I still wish things could be different..
I barely remember that morning -- the details have since faded away, leaving only a blur of images. When I think back now, the memory is simply of a dull ache in my heart, of the knowledge that those would be the final hours I would spend with my boy before we would be parted for a year. One year. It was never meant to be any more than that before we would have our whole lives together. How wrong could we have been?
The night before he left, we lay in each other arms, knowing that every tick of the clock meant that there were fewer precious seconds to spend together. We held each other and I cried, thinking of the void that would be left in my life when he'd gone. In the early hours of that day, we stood on the balcony in London Bridge, looking over our London. He said,"You touched my heart on our first date, halfway over Waterloo Bridge, when you stopped, took my hand and said to me "Look - that there is my London". And now it's mine too. Thanks for teaching me to appreciate the simple things in life".
That resonated with my soul. It was a memory I had all but forgotten, and it melted me that something I had said or done so unwittingly could have touched him so profoundly.
I remember the last touch of his hand, the last fierce hug he gave me, the last glance back as he stepped through the departure gate. When he'd gone, I wandered down the corridor of Gatwick airport and cried. And then my phone rang - my boy, calling me from the plane. He missed me already. He said, "Be strong for me". On my journey home, I could smell his scent on my skin.
That was one year ago this very day. We remain best friends, even though we both know that this will make it harder for the one of us when the other moves on. Despite the multitude of times I've cried, hurt and felt heartbroken and alone, I don't regret a single moment of our time together. I still wish things could be different..
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
miss ya stax
P