October 13th, 1990
At home, England
Another wild Saturday night for me, wait, no, I’m at home, just off the phone with David!
“How was your day?”
“Really nice, actually. Felt like a proper Saturday, out shopping, you know, the sort of thing normal people do on the weekend.”
David let out a little laugh. “You don’t get much of an opportunity for that sort of normalcy.”
“Neither do you when you think of it, you’ve been travelling as much as I have recently.”
“I guess,” he said with what sounded like a slight sigh.
“How have things been since you got home?”
“I’m surrounded by boxes!”
“So, you’re moving today?”
“I’m hoping to have everything out of here by tomorrow at the latest.”
My mind drifted to the rooftop terrace and some of the amazing times David and I shared there. Feeling wistful, I said, “I’ll really miss being on the roof with you.”
“When you see the new view, you’ll forget all about it.”
“Oh ok, then,” I laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. Is somebody helping you to move?”
“Eh, uh-huh, yeah, it’s all good.”
Something about his hesitancy made me a little uncomfortable so I blurted. “Who? Who’s helping you?”
“My buddy Marcus.”
Phew, not Claudette the lawyer/bikini model who exists merely in my imagination and surfaces whenever I feel insecure!
“Oh, I haven’t heard you mention him before, is he a friend from work?”
“No, he’s eh, I met him surfing.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll have much time for surfing this weekend.”
“You never know,” he laughed. “Hey, you know what?”
“I miss you.”
“I really miss you too, so much so that I hope I dream about us swimming with dolphins and…”
“Hey,” he said, interrupting me. “I gotta get groovin but why don’t I call you again tomorrow?”
I was taken aback by his abrupt tone but I reminded myself how stressful moving is. “Ok, good luck with everything today.”
“I love you,” I uttered, but he was already gone.