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Missing a Mister.


This morning, I woke up thinking about the fact one of my closest friends is moving away at the end of the month.

To be fair, his new home is only about an hour and a half’s drive away, but that doesn’t take into account the time it would take me to pass my test - which would involve at least a few weeks of intensive training (though I did have a few lessons when I was seventeen) - plus I’d have to save up for a car and be confident about using the motorway and…you get the picture.

(Alternatively, it’s a couple of hours to the nearest town by train, but that’s still an improvement on my above workings.)

I’m, of course, being flippant. In reality, the distance is no trouble at all, and I know I'll visit him regularly (plus he’ll come back here a lot too), but it will be strange to not have him as nearby as he was or be able to meet as often as we have for years now.

That’s not to say I’m not pleased about his recent developments; he’s wanted a new job for ages and has already managed to secure a two-bedroom house that costs the same as his current one-bedroom flat. The changes to his situation are all for the positive, but I’ll still miss him. I guess that’s why his leaving was playing on my subconscious, though I also dreamt about rescuing a herd of elephants from digging a tunnel underground, so God knows how my mind works.
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