Walking past the check-in without Mark felt like somebody had taken a large bit of my stomach, and replaced my innards with hot coals.
It was a miserable moment, and it just felt wrong to do it. Not least because we made absolute spectacles of ourselves before that point; one small girl pointed and said loudly to her mother that boys weren’t supposed to kiss, and that it was icky.
I don’t know what the mother thought or said; she just took hold of the girl and dragged her down the hall. Maybe she wanted to remove the girl from the gay cooties that were flowing fast and furious at that moment. Or maybe they were late for the plane.
It’s not as if someone has died, and soon enough we’ll snog at the airport again when he comes to fetch me on the second day of Christmas. Unless there’s more rain. Apparently, at the moment, the South of England is being washed out to sea.
Well, there’s not only pathetic moping to tell you about, because at the train station at my destination in Sweden there was commotion. When I stepped off, there was a loud shriek, and then Maria came running over to give me a fierce hug, and Christ did that feel good.
I feel guilty sometimes because Maria and I don’t have as tight of a contact as we used to have. It can go weeks between chats now, and when we do chat it can be short. Summaries of what we’ve done. It has felt like we have grown apart, like we’re hurtling toward a future where I’ll think about “this girl I used to know… What was her name again?”
I do feel guilty sometimes for not keeping in touch like I feel I should, and that’s why it felt so good to have her here, and even better was how we just slipped into the old ways. She leading me on, and chattering like always about this and that while I was reduced to listening and nodding. And that felt good. Comfortable. It was almost like we were fifteen again, sneaking into places where we shouldn’t be.
So much have changed, haven’t they? So much has happened since mum and dad drove across the continent in 2011 to deliver me into the care of my aunt. Then I was fresh out of the closet, and so immature it’s unbelievable. I cringe when I think about it, really.
In an hour dad and his girlfriend will be here to fetch me. We’re going out to dinner properly. And now I should stop trying to problematize everything and just go with the flow. Things will be fine. I’ll live, though if I can go back on the 26th is in doubt. If the weather becomes even more terrible, it might affect my flight back.
I shall invest in a boat and start to row back immediately. Or I should invest in a hotel because the cost of the wi-fi must make people a fortune. I don’t understand how you can have such a ferocious cost for something that in most of Sweden is nearly free. Yet, here I’m supposed to pay the equivalent of €5 for fifteen minutes of internet connection. It’s robbery.
I think I’ll stick to my phone while I’m in Sweden, for the most part. Even if writing any post on the phone is going to be a pain. 😀