06.06.14 . 3:38 am

The prospect of leaving (finally leaving I think but I don't really know why) London pulls my heart in unexpected directions

I think mostly that the prospect of leaving you feels so painful. I had not expected a future without you in it, somewhere, on the edges, standing just in the frame.

You are a complicated piece of my life. I have no real name for you, but you own a piece of me and I have always loved you so much, even when I hated you, even when you tore me to pieces

Leaving Eleanor or Kelly or Ross will be a clean cut pain. It will be terrible, but the edges will be defined.

With you-

We fought so hard to keep each other. And it was terrible and painful and so difficult but we both did it and fought- fought- to keep the other one, even when it was not practical. Even for an hour, once a month, anything. Even when we could barely speak to each other, you still called me round. When you were furious with me and I hated you, I still sat in front of you in cafes and restaurants.

I know your heart, you know mine. For this reason, you are impossible to let go.

Well- no-

It was possible and reasonable and would have been easy, easy-

But even now, even now- You say, I wish you were here and this is not a thing that you would say and I know that you mean it.

The last time I saw you, you were drunk and sad. I slipped my arm in yours and dragged you back into my house. Made you tea until you were in fighting shape.

I miss you

I will miss you so much

I have to go

I don't think you will understand

But I've got to go

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