Ain't No Sunshine When He's [sic] Gone - Bill Withers

Let me get gushy here for a second. Things are the way they should be once again. Aaron and I are back together. And I pray we won't have to go through any more of this separation stuff ever ever again. Meaning that I get cocky and selfish and try to convince myself that being single is better than trying to tough out the long-distance relationship. But you know what? There's no one on earth like him, and I can and will hold out for him. He's worth it. We've watched each other grow (albeit most of the time from a far distance) for two years now and he is closer to me than anyone I've ever known in my life.

Today I had to take him to the airport. I've cried so many tears that my head hurts, almost too much to type, but I feel like writing right now.

I'm not sure if I've ever gone through the whole story of how we've met here in my journal, but now seems as good of a time as any.  

He was the first friend I made online. We chatted and emailed about frivolous topics like Oasis and music in general. He mailed me a copy of the Select that came with the blow-up Jarvis Cocker doll just because I asked him to.  We flirted back and forth, but I tried not to read into it too much. When I was in England in the summer of 97, I was going to see a friend of Susan's at a pub in Kentish Town play one night with his band from Houston, and I realized that it was pretty close to Aaron's house in Barnet, so I called him up when I got to the pub that afternoon to see if he could meet up. And he did. I had no real idea what he looked like, so I sat outside on the picnic tables with Leigh-Anne when it was getting close to the time we agreed on.  I can remember the exact moment I saw him. It was one of those sinking gut feelings where I got giggly and said to Leigh-Anne, "there goes the guy of my dreams". I dunno. He wasn't wearing anything that said "Chrissy - Look at me" but it was the way he walked and just that general cool air that he has when he carries himself. He walked by (I guess he wasn't for sure it was me) and then turned around when he got in front of the Forum. We immediately hit it off. That night he took us down to the more touristy areas where we saw a bunch of those busking reggae bands playing steel drums and got lost in the crowd. He grabbed my hand so he wouldn't lose me and I remember thinking how soft and warm his hand was. We took a look around Tower Records and down in the basement we argued about Pink Floyd and as I was showing him a George Harrison book, he kissed me. It was all so sweet and innocent and quick, just a perfect night. We saw each other the next week a few times and spent a lot of time in the park just talking and before too long, it was time for me to come home to Texas and leave him behind. I was heartbroken.

Six months later, circumstances in my life changing violently, I went back to London for my 20th birthday. We met at Victoria Station with Erin beside me and Kate at Burger King. All of us made our way to Kensal Green (where we were staying with friends). As Kate and Erin were cleaning up and making conversation with our hosts, Aaron and I snuck out to a newsagent and sat on a wall at the end of the street dangling our feet and just catching up. I remember how weird it was to actually be beside him again, being able to make eye contact and not feeling rushed. The week we were there went by quickly.

He came to visit me for a month that summer which was wonderful. I got to spend every moment of the day with him. We spent a lot of time doing absolutely nothing, but we were happy. It was good. I went to visit him again for about 10 days in August and we went to the UNKLE album party and witnessed a pub fight and saw the Dandy Warhols again together. I met his friends and got to see his house and where he grew up. It was nice.

Then for the past few months, we've both had our own things to take care of. Me, I had to tend to my insecurities and stubbornness and misconception that I had to be young and single so I wouldn't make any mistakes too early in life. (Which in turn made me very hardened and I tried to stop feeling.) And he got very ill. He was going to come visit me over Christmas, but ended up in the hospital having fun with blood transfusions and coming close to death.

Then he got here and I tried to be a bad ass and not feel, but this guy means the world to me. And I'm not going to throw that away. We've spent 20 days by each other's side and nothing has brought me more joy than seeing his curly hair stuck up funny in the morning when he woke up. Or making cynical jokes with him. Or cuddling up and watching late night tv next to him.

I'm here alone now and yeah, I'm sad because I miss him. But I'm not lonely. I'm a very very lucky person to have found someone that means so much to me. It does suck that he's 5000 miles and six time zones away from me but I guess I'm delusional enough to really not take that as a serious threat to our relationship. Thank God for technology  - we can at least email and talk on the phone. Though that's no substitute for being with each other.

I'm really tired. It's nearly 3 am and I'm just waiting for the phone call from him telling me he made it home okay. 12 hours ago he was next to me. Now I'm in my pajamas and trying not to think about the fact he was sitting in this very spot 12 hours before that. God, I'm way too sentimental sometimes. Disgusting isn't it?