This isn’t real. You know that space in between sleeping and waking when you’re blank, blissfully unaware of the cruel farce your life has become? Well mine just came to a crashing end. It’s all flooding back to me, the fight, the sobbing, that moment when all that was dear to me dissolved in a sea of salty tears. The moment that the door slammed, and with it shattered all that I had cherished for the last thirteen months, one week, three days, seven hours and four minutes. The moment she left me.
How could she do this to me? Everyone makes mistakes, and Christ knows I’ve made loads (I think maybe sleeping with Sha-naynay was the straw that broke the camel of our relationship’s back), but to forgive is to be divine (or something). When I think back over everything we’ve been through, the laughs, the memories we’ve shared, how HOW could she throw it all away so recklessly? I remember the first moment I saw her- the first week of summer term first year, dancing her heart out on Vanbrugh paradise in the middle of a 24 hour protest against the closing of the Goodricke bridge (she had an incredible social conscience). I knew I had to have her, and immediately embarked on a three week campaign of facebook stalking, texting, ‘accidentally on purpose’ bumping into her on nights out, finally culminating in a 2am rendition of ‘You are my sunshine’ under her window at block B new Vanbrugh. Under the relentless tide of my affection she eventually caved, and the blissful summer which folllowed abides in my memory as the most magical I have ever experienced.
True, there were difficult times, times when the hazy glow which engulfed our relationship was broken by the harsh light of bitter reality. Like when I discovered her smoking, and weepingly read out “Smokers harm themselves and those around them” until she collapsed into my arms and promised never to inhale the cancerous fumes of her Malbrough Lights ever again. Or the occasion that I forgot Dave and Lucy Fridays and she found me in the pub with Liam and Theo, getting acquainted with my fifth pint and the lovely Alice who works behind the bar. But those can be overcome, like bumps on the yellow brick road of our love.
Maybe it’s too soon to give up hope. It’s been seven hundred and fifty minutes since she left, I could win her back. Going my own way is not an option, I get my head in the game. It’s now or never, I will not let her break free. I must make some gesture, show that I want her right here, right now, and if she lets me in, this could be the start of something new.