For three days my world has been full again. It's been full of H. She came to stay with me at uni and it felt right again. Before she came to stay, I managed twelve days without her and I missed her everyday. Twelve days seems like quite a long time and it especially feels like I've been here for a long time, so I thought that I would miss her a little bit less everyday but it's not working like that. Although I suppose the fact that I miss her reminds me that I'm lucky to have somebody to miss because it means that she's important. And she really is.
I waited for her at the station and we ran up to each other when she got off the train. Then the next three days ensued and we talked and drank coffee and ate chocolate and listened to Taylor Swift and laid on the floor and linked arms and made a bucket list and drunk a bit too much wine. We never need to do a lot just because we enjoy being in each other's company so much and that's why we talked continuously for three days. For three whole days we talked. And we stayed up through the night.
It's her birthday in a few days and obviously I won't be there which is a horrible thought for me because who wants to miss their best friend's birthday? She's going to phone me but it's never the same and Skype is never the same. Nothing is as good as seeing somebody face to face, but for now that's the closest that it will be.
But now she's gone.
We had a Starbucks breakfast this morning and I walked to the station with her (which was probably a bad idea in the first place) but we said goodbye and I managed to get out of the station before it started. It was like the last goodbye all over again and I cried the whole way back. The goodbye's keep happening and I can't stop them, if only I could. Although they're only temporary goodbye's until the next time I see her, they don't get any easier. And I don't think they ever will. She's such a huge part of my life that I still can't believe it when I turn around and she's not there. I see her face in every crowd and it hurts to be without her so much.
When I got back from the station, I walked into the flat and my flat mates just stared at me. I'd guessed that I would probably have red eyes but I looked in the mirror to be confronted with red eyes, tear streaks and mascara smudged and dripping down my face. It was proper movie-style crying. I realised then that I looked like Carrie out of the Sex and the City movie when she takes her sunglasses off in her hotel bathroom in Mexico. I don't think that they really knew what to say to me because they all looked as if they actually wanted to say 'seriously why are you crying because your friend has left?' and all I wanted then was a hug, but I didn't get one. I felt like saying 'thanks for the compassion guys'. I mean, they could have at least pretended to understand. Then I thought that different things affect different people and this is just one of the things that gets me. It really does get to me.
It's not pretty when you feel like that and it never will be.