Saturday at The Stork Club. 8 O’clock.
I made a promise to Nemo that I wouldn’t write. He said that would be a bad idea. I may be able to lift a certain weight, and I may be able to run a certain speed, then with the recent addition of Krav Maga I may know how to fight. But writing is my true punching bag.
Sometime this week my little life shattered. I expected a lot of things to happen that day; I anticipated that Josh wouldn’t turn up for the meeting. By midday I already knew that I wouldn’t be attending Krav Maga that night. I also knew that I wouldn’t break my Pepsi Max addiction despite me promising the shopkeeper I would. But I didn’t anticipate the phone call we had.
Last week when you went to watch the theatrical version of Ghost, you told me that you cried because the thought of losing me would kill you. Thursday night I attended the charity concert at the boy’s school to watch you perform, and at the end of the night before we parted ways you couldn’t stop telling me you loved me as if I had been away for a long time. Saturday we went on a date to watch Iron Man 3 and for the first time in a while you done that thing where you pretend you’re a cat which annoys the hell out of me, but I love it just as much. Sunday you busted my lip as I tried bite your neck in a proclamation that I was indeed Devon Salvatore, a mentally challenged French cousin to Damon Salvatore, you laughed as did Hannah. Come Tuesday, you tell me that you no longer want me to be part of your life, and your decision was final.
We have had a few unbalanced moments throughout the start of the year, it would be a lie to think otherwise. The fact that you don’t know where exactly you are heading after you graduate school has taken a toll on you, and the constant complaints about my life with nuisance of Grim didn’t help you either, neither did the routine we fell in because of my work on the project. But we overcame that, or at least we thought we had, and everything felt fine again.
I knew it was. The day you moved house told me it was.
For the first time in a long while there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and it was relatively warm too. It was the day that had caused you so much anxiety for a long time; the day you officially moved house, the day you say goodbye to 17 Everard Street. Yet To add further dread to the day, you were called into work while the majority of your family removed the memories from your house. After a good few hours of traipsing back and forth between houses and saving Louis from being eaten by a Rottweiler (or so me and Hannah thought), you arrived in Carl’s van as I was about to leave for the shop. I noticed you were sitting in the front seat, and I pulled a ridiculous pose knowing it would make you laugh, you and Carl both.
You ran to me and gave me a massive hug, and after we took some food orders from Emma we walked to the shop. You said how nice it was that were just ‘out’. We had obviously walked places before, but those times the sky was grey, the wind was harsh or the rain fell heavy, it was grim. We had not really walked together in the sun that much together as us, we had walked to Grim meetings and Grim shooting locations in the sun, but never somewhere just as a couple. Come summer time last year the crowdfunding campaign had began, then you went to Newquay, I then ‘broke’ my toe which was later followed by me falling really ill. Summer was over within an instant, and I had barely set a foot outside. We talked about how much we’ll do this summer, walks to the beach, and a trip to the Gower, as much as we could afford.
Putting aside the fact my back and knees were hurting a little from all the heavy lifting, the rest of the day was perfect with you, as were the weeks that followed.
Right up until the moving date I was so concerned about the safety of the necklace I bought you for our anniversary. Whenever we were together I asked you if the necklace was packed safe. You took it off at some point and before you could put it back on it was already packed up. However, you assured me that it was safe within one of Hannah’s boxes, but still I continued to ask, just in case. When we returned from the shop I went outside to show Lily how to properly use a pitchfork. That probably wasn’t the best of ideas as it looked like at any moment Lily was about to send the pitchfork right through Louis as he kept running in front of her. Your Mum was worn out from the day was sat near the back door fiddling around with something in her hand. It was the necklace. Tangled and knotted.
Despite me constantly asking about it and the fact you thoroughly packed it, the necklace slipped through and out of the box. This was the first gift I’ve worked for. It wasn’t bought on finance or on credit like a lot of the clothes I’ve bought you. I put money away each week and when I finally bought it there was a sense of accomplishment. Yet near the date of our anniversary I checked to see if the necklace was still in the box, because of the naysayer inside of me I feared it had been stolen from underneath my bed in the middle of the night by necklace ninjas. It was still there, but my cumbersome hands accidentally snapped the pendant off the chain. As soon as I got up the next day I was back at the store hoping they could fix it, or at the very best exchange it. I had told the woman that “I had only just opened the box to see that it was broken”. It worked. They replaced it. There was one day left to return it on the receipt. If I had broken the necklace only one day later or even later on that afternoon, I would have had nothing to give you.
Nevertheless, that was not the case, the necklace was exchanged, and in some sense it reminds me of us, which might be why I’m so fond of it on you. When the necklace fell from Hannah’s box, somebody still seen it glistening on the stairway. It was safe again, there were at least 15 people in your house that day who could have so easily broken it. No matter how lost or knotted we may become at times, we still find a way of straightening ourselves out again.
Things were always different with this relationship from the outset. We weren’t just lovers, or just boyfriend and girlfriend, or just best friends, we were all of them. I’ll always remember when I was out with the group and a certain somebody said they didn’t consider their better half to be their best-friend. How do people like that enjoy their relationship? Do they laugh and joke around? It puzzled me as I couldn’t think of us being anything like that. With our running jokes; Grusky, ‘Mismas, Your Catface, Strawberry Tongue, Meds, Webber, Baked In A Buttery Flaky Crust and many more jokes and words where you would crack up with the slightest mention of them. I couldn’t see how any couple in love could be anything but best friends.
This was the first relationship that the majority of my friends were not supportive of, and as I’ve so often said, it was one that I didn’t initially want to happen. But you won me over, I was yours for the taking. Within 3 weeks of our relationship we started talking about children names without even realizing what on God’s earth we were speaking about. Within the first 6 weeks you were speaking to Whittle and Danielle and telling them how you knew you were falling in love with me. I told you around that time that I would never leave you and if anything bad ever happened you would be the one to break it off, you argued for nights on end about that, and whenever I brought it up you would still continue to argue about it. Even though I threatened it more times than I should have, I never fully went through with the act. This isn’t an ‘I told you so moment’, nor is it about being right. It’s about the truth, I knew from the early stages of this relationship I would never be the one to say goodbye. I couldn’t. There’s always been something different about you that separates you from anybody else I have met. The pictures I have of you always genuinely make me smile and feel. That’s why I take so many photographs of you, even the ones of you looking really pissed off as I had just taken a photograph of you and you had only been awake for 30 minutes.
So now I sit here, for what has already felt like 3 weeks, 3 weeks without my lover, my best friend, my girlfriend. When you spend every day for 18 months talking to someone, time lingers when that talking ceases. As a result, I sit here plotting my next adventure in life, wondering if I should try to visit Austria or Italy this summer, or what else I can do in the summer now I’ve taken time off Grim, but everything seems pointless without you being part of the plan. Then every so often I’ll check the phone to see if there’s a text or missed call from you, wanting to talk, wanting to untangle whatever knot there was that has caused this silence between us, wanting to put the necklace on straight.
Then it starts to kill me when the phone rings or a text comes through, and it’s not you. I used to tell you the joy of my day was seeing how many Youtube subscribers I was getting, now they are my least favourite message to receive. It then starts to kill me knowing that Sunday could have been the last time that I’ll ever see Louis or Oscar again.
It kills me knowing that I’ll never make Hannah cringe again by doing something really awkward.
It kills me that I’ll never be able to share one of my adventure stories with Carl, or that I’ll never hear your Dad make fun of me again, and that I’ll never be woken up by your Mum speaking to the dogs like they understand every word, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.
It kills me knowing that your granddad will no longer ask if I’m a genius or if I’m plain crazy. Or that I’ll never hear your Nan ask me something completely absurd that has no relevance to subject we’re talking about, or that I’ll never be able tease Lil.
It kills me knowing that come Saturday Phoebe and Mason will ask where Auntie Charlotte is and I’ll always have to tell them you are working until they forget you.
It kills me that I won’t wake to a morning text from you.
It kills me that I won’t see you in the red dress I got you for your birthday.
It kills me that I can’t call you my baby girl anymore, it kills me that all of our dreams were washed away within a single phone call, and most of all, it kills me that I didn’t get to kiss you goodbye for what might be forever.
I love you,