scott & you.
I saw Grant’s post and didn’t think much about it until I was home in the country in that house you visited and by chance, on a call to London with a mutual friend, (mine and his, not ours) he said they found him.Â
I drank a lot. That’s not unusual. My mind turned to you because it does in that house when everything is quiet and slow and FR has a special place in my heart because it is so tied to you.Â
A little anchor tied to the back end of a chorus or just a line scraping across my skull as a reminder I can’t enjoy one without the presence of the other.
I missed the chance to reach out. Not because I missed you, because I don’t feel the need to be around you or find a place for our relationship to grow again. Nourishing our relationship historically meant strangling others, maybe that could change now we have aged but I also didn’t want to roll that dice.Â
I do wish I could have done something though. I hurt so much in that night and then all weekend and finally the lonely drive home and for gods-fuck-knows what reason you would have been the only one who understood it. I’ve only seen your face once in years and yet you were closest to me in that week when I didn’t even say your name out loud.Â
I would have melted at the chance to hold you quietly on a public street corner with no-one around. I could ask you honestly how you were and you would answer honestly but with only a few words, I would say something similar and that it had been too long since we’d done this and you’d say that I’m not the same boy I was and it’d be mostly true. That would be it. It would be enough and we may do it again in five years time.
