Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Dear you. (The boy from Boro)


I miss you, but I also miss the stuff. The things surrounding you, the random objects and scenery. Your second house, with the big bedroom that was like a private cave, with its shower in the wall. We'd giggle; one of us would shower while the other watched Netflix a few feet away, turning now and again to pull faces through the glass. The Lego figures lined up. The first flat, the pasta dishes you made and the trashy TV we'd watch. The music you'd put on in your room. The chocolate-flavoured toothpaste (patent pending). 
I remember coming into your cafe after my graduation ceremony, with my cap and gown still on, and you saying 'so, how'd it go?' 
These days I run up the stairs in tube stations and always think of you saying my legs were freakishly strong. They are. I'm proud of my horse legs. 
The decaf green tea. The #coupleselfies. The guitars you'd named. The sweet-smelling shower gel. 
I also miss your accent. The words. Your eyebrows, your kind eyes, and that black T-shirt I joked about. I miss brushing my teeth beside you - that was a thing we did. We did a lot of things. 

I put your EP demos on earlier today. I played that song as my train pulled into Brighton. I really hope we both end up here someday. Where we want to be. 
I don't know what the future holds, but the city and the coffee is a constant. I might be sitting watching at your wedding on the pier, or consoling you after a fall out or break up - over vegan food. You'll play at my book launch parties someday, in London AND Brighton. 
Who knows. I will usually pack the memories away, bury them somewhere safe so they're not gone, just dormant. They shouldn't be forgotten. I'd never forget. 
This isn't me guilt tripping or trying anything with you. This is me recognising, as I always will, that you and I were a big thing. We were and are best friends, and I never want to be without you. 
You're stuck with me. Soz. Because you're great, you make me good, and I like you a whole bunch. 

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