I’ve been doing a pretty good job of keeping the memories on the other side of this three-inch thick stone wall surrounding me. But once in a while, someone says something, and memories of you come rushing back, a physical force concentrated in intensity for one terrible moment - like stubbing my little toe or jarring my elbow.
It happened today.
Was I happy? Yes, deliriously so. And occassionally I wonder whether that last argument really took place – did you really say the things I heard you say? Perhaps I just imagined the whole thing.
But inevitably, somewhere in the middle of the loneliness of staring at my laptop screen till 4am in the morning working on some stupid excel file, I accept that it really did happen. Because its been 3 years, and we haven’t spoken. I did see you – on one deliciously golden afternoon, standing with your friends and laughing your glorious laugh - but that was all.
Despite everything, I really do think you were the closest I came to love.
