Long Distance Lust

“I want to pack you in my suitcase and take you home to Sweden,” The Swede told me.

We were walking to the bathroom at unSCruz.

He’d had some whiskey and his lips were loose.

It was utterly charming.

“I can’t ask you to wait, can I?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

My heart lurched a little bit.

This big, cuddly, soft-spoken, shy man has cleverly wormed his way into my heart.

“It’s been such a fun weekend,” I told him.

Part of me really wanted to say, “Let’s do this!”

But I know I’m no good at long distance relationships.

Not at all.

I’m not really good at relationships, fullstop.

At least not in recent times, at least.

What makes me think that I could make it work when we live 8,600+ miles apart (as the crow flies)?

Stupidity?

Romanticism?

Affection?

Full blown LUST?

Whatever the cause – stupidity or lust, the end result is the same.

Me, single.

What else could I be?

Crushed

In January, my friend Mark passed away. That’s a gentle way of saying that he committed suicide. Very tragic circumstances surrounding. His family and friends will mourn him for the rest of our lives. He was extraordinary.

One of the things he did for me was make little video clips, almost daily, of him wishing me good morning, hello, and telling me what he was up to.

After he died, I couldn’t bear to look at the images on my phone so I “thought” I moved them to a safe location where I could look at them later when my feelings weren’t so raw.

Today I went to look at the videos and discovered they weren’t there.

They’ve all been deleted.

At first, I was crushed by this news but gradually began to picture my friend Mark, in the afterlife, literally laughing at me and pointing out that now no one will believe me…. he destroyed all the evidence.

Mark was an enigmatic man who I’m sure would rather leave the MEMORY of him behind than a TANGIBLE piece of him behind.

Crushed? In a way, but I have my memories.

And I’m thankful for every second I had with him.

No doubt.

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