The bulldogs all came down for old boys at the weekend, and it’s sent me on a bit of a trip down memory lane.
I want you to know that I miss you, and I’m really sorry we aren’t in each others lives anymore. Having your heart broken and losing a boy sucks, but losing a friend hurts just as much – more sometimes. We may not have had a big row but something went wrong somewhere and I wish I could rectify it. I care what you think of me. Mainly because I think you always knew me well enough to see my flaws and bad decisions even when I didn’t want to admit them to myself. I’m good at constructing a narrative around myself, and you saw through that. Or at least I feel like you did.
I miss having you in my life much more than anyone else I’ve lost. I miss your wit and your wisdom. I miss talking to you about Doctor Who (I haven’t watched any of the new series because fuck Moffat), and politics, and Cumberbatch. I want to know if you’ve seen My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (if you haven’t then you really should) and hear your thoughts on Trump.
I’m not expecting to hear from you, I just wanted you to know. Which is maybe a little self indulgent of me, but I seem to be doing quite a lot of the self indulgent thing lately. Sitting on the boundary between self-indulgent and scared.
I hope you’re happy and I’m sure you’re doing great things. I hope your heart isn’t split between here and America, that you feel settled in the place you are.
I don’t know how to sign off now. Everything other than love seems too formal, but love doesn’t quite seem right.
Thanks (is I think what I’m going with?)