It had been a very long night. No, I wasn't out drinking(I never am), nor was I up watching all the Star Wars films(..ahem). I was in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling I could not see, thinking of things I could not understand. Could it be? After all the time I doubted it, all the time I was such a cynic, could it actually be real?
Something felt different, for sure. It wasn't my unusually smooth hair, which after being recently straightened reached down to my waist, nor was it the lovely feeling of sleeping with a newly washed, fresh duvet. It ran much deeper than such silly things as appearance or physical comfort.
I thought about it all night, dreamt about it. Dreamt about her.
I awoke to find 2 text messages on my phone, from a number I did not recognise.
"Hi Luke, if you try to contact me today, you shall fail. I was mugged last night, I've lost everything, my bank cards, my phone, everything."
I'd never been more awake in my life and phoned her immediately, and after a few minutes of tears, I ended the call with a promise.
"Don't worry. I'm coming to see you, today. I'll find a way."
I was off in minutes, up to my Dad's running unneccesarily through a light morning rain. I hooked up to the internet and booked myself the first coach to London I could find.
This was crazy.
But it really didn't matter. Her phone was off now, I couldn't get directions as to where she even lives. It didn't matter. I told myself I would find a way.
I boarded the coach outside Cardiff Castle and for the next 4 hours watched the dreamy scenery fly past me, the sun peeking through the clouds every now and again. I tried to avoid the obvious internal question: what the hell are you doing? I was spurred on by something greater than reason, or logic, common sense perhaps.
I arrived in London and managed to get a hold of her, managed to secure the directions I needed. Over the next 2 hours I hopped from tube to bus, a stranger to his big, busy and bustling city that quite frankly scared me. It hadn't been long since a recently reported teenage killing and it was with a certain sense of unease I completed the final part of my spontaneous journey. I got off the bus at Powder Mill Lane and walked down the long road I would become so accustomed to that summer.
It was dark now, it had taken me all day to get here, a whole day consumed by one desire. To make sure she was okay. It seems silly now. I turned into the small street tucked away from the main road and looked at the 5 or so houses in front of me, not knowing which was hers.
A door opened down the far end and I jogged towards it. There she was, looking tired but happy. We hugged for a long time.
I still wasn't as comfortable as I grew to be, I still had never been with anyone, never felt I was good enough for anyone. But I had also never felt so strongly for anyone. Travelling 200 miles on a whim, not knowing where the hell I was going was proof of that. A momentary lapse of reason, that binds a life to a life.
Ok, so I'm qouting a Pink Floyd song, and out of context at that, but it fits. She later told me this was when she knew. It was also when I knew.
She made me dinner as I wearily collapsed onto the sofa, admiring the quaint little upstairs flat in which she lived. She questioned me coming, though smiled happily as she did. I told her, simply, that I wanted to make sure she was okay.
A few hours later we huddled together on the small bed, lying in each others arms with a content feeling I had never before experienced.
"I don't know if I should...if it...God it's so hard to just say it...y'know?"
"It's ok...just say it."
"I love you."
* * *
Never before and so far never since, has anything ever felt so right, after my journey of momentary madness....since I found the one.
Ok, wow, that was really difficult to write and probably not written in an appealing way. Had to kind of hold back a bit, it felt wrong to use names...I dunno, hard to share for me I think. There's my 'moment' anyway,