When the great industrial towers
Have crumbled into dust,
And the iron bridges gone
Into an amber orange rust,
When the roads are overgrown
With moss and ferns and lichen,
And the countryside is nothing more
Than ashen burning bracken
My love, still unrequited
Will burn up with the world.
Sunday 7 February 2010
Monday 1 February 2010
Goodbye - Story
GOODBYE
I was sitting on the bench at the top of the hill, looking down at the town I grew up in. The neat rows of houses, the familiar streets, cars and people going about their daily business. Over there, the woods where Mark and I used to play when we were younger. The same woods we'd had parties in when we were older, actually. Such a long time ago now.
It felt strange, sitting there on that bench, looking down at all that familiarity, and looking back at a life I'd once led. Each street, each pub, each shop, they all contained memories of my life so far; of growing up, of making friends, of the things we used to do. Normal things. Games of catch in the school playground. Chatting about last night's TV. Telling your friends your secrets. Well, some of them anyway.
I think I felt him behind me before I heard him. This hill, and its view of the town, had been a favourite place of ours when we were young. We'd used to talk about everything here. Or almost everything at any rate. We used to pretend sometimes that we were the only two people left alive in the whole world, the last survivors, looking out for each other.
"I didn't think you'd come," I said.
"Well you should have known better," he replied. He sat down on the bench beside me and shivered. "It's cold up here today."
"Yeah," I said, and as I said it I could see my breath steaming in front of me.
"You know, I'll really miss this place," he said.
"Nah, you'll be too busy in your new life," I said, trying to sound cheerful.
"Maybe," he said.
"When do you leave?" I asked.
"Tomorrow. Gemma's dad's taking us to the airport and then that's it. Off down under. Small ceremony, just family really, and then I start my job in a couple of weeks."
"Cool." I couldn't think of anything more to say.
"You know, I'm sorry, Drew, don't you?"
"Don't be silly," I said, "what have you got to be sorry for?"
"That I have to go. That I won't see you as much. That we ended up like this."
I knew what he meant, of course, but he had nothing to be sorry for. Gemma, his wife to be, and I had been friends once, too, but everything just got too complicated. I mean, we all used to hang out, but I hadn't seen much of them lately. It was only because Dave had told me they were leaving that I'd texted him, asking him to come to the bench. I needed to say goodbye to my best friend, no matter what had happened between us lately.
"You shouldn't be sorry," I said, "you fell in love. That's a good thing. I'm happy for you."
"Yeah," he said, "but I never wanted the thing with me and Gemma to come between us, mate, and it has." As he said this, he put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. "Mate, what's the matter, what's wrong?"
"I'm just gonna miss you, that's all," I said with a sigh. "But I am happy for you, really." I looked him straight in the eye – those big, blue eyes I remember from when we were children, always full of sparkle and mischief.
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it. "It'll happen for you too some day," he said, brightly, "you'll find someone special. You know you will."
This I didn't want to hear. People in couples have a horrible habit of telling me that, and while the sentiment is usually sound, I usually just think they're saying it to make themselves feel better. But Mark meant no harm, of course, he could never mean harm to anyone. So I just smiled and said, "maybe".
"Oh you will, Drew," he said, "you're a cool guy, there's gonna be someone out there for you."
"Mark, can we not have this conversation?" I said, "No offence, I know you're trying to be nice or whatever, but I don't want to think about stuff like that, let alone talk about it."
He sighed, then, and we both sat silently for a couple of minutes, watching as the sun started to set above the town.
It was Mark who broke the silence. "You know, Drew, for all the years we've been friends, sometimes I feel like I don't know you."
"You do know me," I said, "you know everything there is to know."
"Maybe," he said, "but I just wish you'd say what you were feeling sometimes. I wish you trusted me more."
"You know I trust you," I said, but I knew where he was heading, and I didn't really want to go there. I knew that all it would lead to would be a painful discussion and no fairytale ending.
"Drew," he said, and again he fixed me in his blue eyed stare, "I'm leaving for Australia tomorrow. I'm going to marry the woman I love, and I'm so happy. And that's why I'm sorry. Cos I know you're not happy, and you can't be fully happy for me, and that cuts me up, man, cos we used to do everything together, and now I'm moving away and I'm hurting you and you're my best friend and I should be sharing this with you and it's just so fucking wrong…"
As he said this, he started to cry, and I just wanted to hold him, like I had the night his mum had passed away, I wanted to comfort him, and I knew then that he knew everything and I thought I should have told him a long time ago so we could have worked through it and it wouldn't have to end like this, but it was too late. Much too late.
"Hey," I said, looking straight at him, "I know it's crap. And I know you know me, and I get that you know why this is so hard for me but you have to live your life, man. Gemma and you are great, you'll have a wicked time in Australia, you'll have a good life. But you can't worry about me. We'll say goodbye here tonight and then we'll both get on with our lives. Nothing wrong with that. We're not kids anymore."
"But I still need my best mate," he said, "I've missed you these last months, I'll miss you more when we're away."
"You'll have Gemma," I said, "you'll be OK."
He smiled, and so did I, but we were just hiding behind them.
By now the sun had all but vanished behind the town. The air was cool, and we sat there on that bench and we talked about the old days and the years just melted away. We were ten again, chatting about our latest computer games, about the film we wanted to see at the weekend, about lighter things from an easier time. I don't know how long we'd been there when his phone rang.
"Hey," he said, "yeah I'll be back soon. Just saying goodbye to Drew. Yeah, I will. See you later. Love you too. Bye."
"She OK?" I asked.
"Yeah," he smiled, "she sends her love."
"That's nice."
"Look, Drew," he said, "I'm gonna have to go mate. Early start and all that."
"Fresh start, too," I said, and I got up with him. We looked down at the town again, and he pulled me into a hug. Now it was my turn to cry. I couldn't stop sobbing. Here I was with my best friend in the world, tomorrow he was off on his adventure, into his new life and I knew I'd not see him again, that I wouldn't be able to even if the invite was there.
"Hey," he said, "you'll be all right too you know? Maybe you just need to move away as well. Get out of this place. Find yourself."
"Maybe," I said, breaking the hug and coming round a bit, "maybe I will."
He smiled then. "I really do have to go, Drew. You gonna walk with me?"
"No," I said, "I wanna sit here a bit more. Watch the lights."
He smiled. "Well, goodbye then," he said.
"Bye mate."
He turned to go. I knew this was it. This was the last time we'd see each other. And even though I know he knew, I told him anyway.
"I love you, Mark."
He turned round again, and looked at me with a smile. "I know, Drew," he said, "I know. And you know I love you too, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling a sad smile, "yeah I know you do. But not in the same way."
"I'm sorry," he said, "I wish we'd talked about this a long time ago, I just never had the balls to bring it up."
"Well, it wouldn't have made any difference," I said.
"Maybe not," he replied, "but maybe I could have made you feel better. So I am sorry."
"Don't be," I said, "I'm not. I wouldn't have changed any of it, Mark. You've been a great friend. The best."
"You too, mate," he said, and he walked back and gave me one final hug. I wish I could have held him like that forever, but he had to go.
"Goodbye, Drew," he said.
He turned and walked away, back towards the town, towards the lights.
AB
I was sitting on the bench at the top of the hill, looking down at the town I grew up in. The neat rows of houses, the familiar streets, cars and people going about their daily business. Over there, the woods where Mark and I used to play when we were younger. The same woods we'd had parties in when we were older, actually. Such a long time ago now.
It felt strange, sitting there on that bench, looking down at all that familiarity, and looking back at a life I'd once led. Each street, each pub, each shop, they all contained memories of my life so far; of growing up, of making friends, of the things we used to do. Normal things. Games of catch in the school playground. Chatting about last night's TV. Telling your friends your secrets. Well, some of them anyway.
I think I felt him behind me before I heard him. This hill, and its view of the town, had been a favourite place of ours when we were young. We'd used to talk about everything here. Or almost everything at any rate. We used to pretend sometimes that we were the only two people left alive in the whole world, the last survivors, looking out for each other.
"I didn't think you'd come," I said.
"Well you should have known better," he replied. He sat down on the bench beside me and shivered. "It's cold up here today."
"Yeah," I said, and as I said it I could see my breath steaming in front of me.
"You know, I'll really miss this place," he said.
"Nah, you'll be too busy in your new life," I said, trying to sound cheerful.
"Maybe," he said.
"When do you leave?" I asked.
"Tomorrow. Gemma's dad's taking us to the airport and then that's it. Off down under. Small ceremony, just family really, and then I start my job in a couple of weeks."
"Cool." I couldn't think of anything more to say.
"You know, I'm sorry, Drew, don't you?"
"Don't be silly," I said, "what have you got to be sorry for?"
"That I have to go. That I won't see you as much. That we ended up like this."
I knew what he meant, of course, but he had nothing to be sorry for. Gemma, his wife to be, and I had been friends once, too, but everything just got too complicated. I mean, we all used to hang out, but I hadn't seen much of them lately. It was only because Dave had told me they were leaving that I'd texted him, asking him to come to the bench. I needed to say goodbye to my best friend, no matter what had happened between us lately.
"You shouldn't be sorry," I said, "you fell in love. That's a good thing. I'm happy for you."
"Yeah," he said, "but I never wanted the thing with me and Gemma to come between us, mate, and it has." As he said this, he put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. "Mate, what's the matter, what's wrong?"
"I'm just gonna miss you, that's all," I said with a sigh. "But I am happy for you, really." I looked him straight in the eye – those big, blue eyes I remember from when we were children, always full of sparkle and mischief.
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it. "It'll happen for you too some day," he said, brightly, "you'll find someone special. You know you will."
This I didn't want to hear. People in couples have a horrible habit of telling me that, and while the sentiment is usually sound, I usually just think they're saying it to make themselves feel better. But Mark meant no harm, of course, he could never mean harm to anyone. So I just smiled and said, "maybe".
"Oh you will, Drew," he said, "you're a cool guy, there's gonna be someone out there for you."
"Mark, can we not have this conversation?" I said, "No offence, I know you're trying to be nice or whatever, but I don't want to think about stuff like that, let alone talk about it."
He sighed, then, and we both sat silently for a couple of minutes, watching as the sun started to set above the town.
It was Mark who broke the silence. "You know, Drew, for all the years we've been friends, sometimes I feel like I don't know you."
"You do know me," I said, "you know everything there is to know."
"Maybe," he said, "but I just wish you'd say what you were feeling sometimes. I wish you trusted me more."
"You know I trust you," I said, but I knew where he was heading, and I didn't really want to go there. I knew that all it would lead to would be a painful discussion and no fairytale ending.
"Drew," he said, and again he fixed me in his blue eyed stare, "I'm leaving for Australia tomorrow. I'm going to marry the woman I love, and I'm so happy. And that's why I'm sorry. Cos I know you're not happy, and you can't be fully happy for me, and that cuts me up, man, cos we used to do everything together, and now I'm moving away and I'm hurting you and you're my best friend and I should be sharing this with you and it's just so fucking wrong…"
As he said this, he started to cry, and I just wanted to hold him, like I had the night his mum had passed away, I wanted to comfort him, and I knew then that he knew everything and I thought I should have told him a long time ago so we could have worked through it and it wouldn't have to end like this, but it was too late. Much too late.
"Hey," I said, looking straight at him, "I know it's crap. And I know you know me, and I get that you know why this is so hard for me but you have to live your life, man. Gemma and you are great, you'll have a wicked time in Australia, you'll have a good life. But you can't worry about me. We'll say goodbye here tonight and then we'll both get on with our lives. Nothing wrong with that. We're not kids anymore."
"But I still need my best mate," he said, "I've missed you these last months, I'll miss you more when we're away."
"You'll have Gemma," I said, "you'll be OK."
He smiled, and so did I, but we were just hiding behind them.
By now the sun had all but vanished behind the town. The air was cool, and we sat there on that bench and we talked about the old days and the years just melted away. We were ten again, chatting about our latest computer games, about the film we wanted to see at the weekend, about lighter things from an easier time. I don't know how long we'd been there when his phone rang.
"Hey," he said, "yeah I'll be back soon. Just saying goodbye to Drew. Yeah, I will. See you later. Love you too. Bye."
"She OK?" I asked.
"Yeah," he smiled, "she sends her love."
"That's nice."
"Look, Drew," he said, "I'm gonna have to go mate. Early start and all that."
"Fresh start, too," I said, and I got up with him. We looked down at the town again, and he pulled me into a hug. Now it was my turn to cry. I couldn't stop sobbing. Here I was with my best friend in the world, tomorrow he was off on his adventure, into his new life and I knew I'd not see him again, that I wouldn't be able to even if the invite was there.
"Hey," he said, "you'll be all right too you know? Maybe you just need to move away as well. Get out of this place. Find yourself."
"Maybe," I said, breaking the hug and coming round a bit, "maybe I will."
He smiled then. "I really do have to go, Drew. You gonna walk with me?"
"No," I said, "I wanna sit here a bit more. Watch the lights."
He smiled. "Well, goodbye then," he said.
"Bye mate."
He turned to go. I knew this was it. This was the last time we'd see each other. And even though I know he knew, I told him anyway.
"I love you, Mark."
He turned round again, and looked at me with a smile. "I know, Drew," he said, "I know. And you know I love you too, yeah?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling a sad smile, "yeah I know you do. But not in the same way."
"I'm sorry," he said, "I wish we'd talked about this a long time ago, I just never had the balls to bring it up."
"Well, it wouldn't have made any difference," I said.
"Maybe not," he replied, "but maybe I could have made you feel better. So I am sorry."
"Don't be," I said, "I'm not. I wouldn't have changed any of it, Mark. You've been a great friend. The best."
"You too, mate," he said, and he walked back and gave me one final hug. I wish I could have held him like that forever, but he had to go.
"Goodbye, Drew," he said.
He turned and walked away, back towards the town, towards the lights.
AB
To begin...
Welcome, welcome!
So, the idea of this blog basically is to get me writing again, get the creative juices flowing, and give me somewhere to publish stuff. I'll be posting stories, random thoughts and musings and the odd bit of poetry. There will no doubt emerge a few disparate, loose themes, as my mind is preoccupied with the concerns of everyday life.
Maybe people will read it, maybe not - but if you do, feel free to comment and keep checking back.
Andrew
So, the idea of this blog basically is to get me writing again, get the creative juices flowing, and give me somewhere to publish stuff. I'll be posting stories, random thoughts and musings and the odd bit of poetry. There will no doubt emerge a few disparate, loose themes, as my mind is preoccupied with the concerns of everyday life.
Maybe people will read it, maybe not - but if you do, feel free to comment and keep checking back.
Andrew
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