Stolen Weekend

So, I'm back. Reality SUCKS!!!

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When I blogged last, I was sat in his cosy room, wearing him warm hoody, listening to Neutral Milk Hotel and checking the clock desperate for it to be half nine. Now, I'm home, in my pyjamas, listening to Eastenders and desperate for it to be the 19th December.

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It was pouring down with rain when I left halls to meet him from his rehearsal. I stole his big blue coat, rammed my hands in my (his) pockets and stormed off down the high street. Surrounded by people in fancy dress, swigging from bottles and swearing in thick accents. It was novel to see the queen of hearts holding a Stella can.

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I got to the school and sat on the steps, watching as people fell out of the doors, tired from a long day of rehearsing. Then he came out. God, I'd almost forgotten that look he gives me when he sees me. (I know we'd already had 'the reunion' but that was rushed. I now had him all weekend.)

We got pizza and ran home in the rain. I didn't care that my socks were wet where my shoes were beginning to lose their waterproof...ness. I didn't care that people were demanding slices of pizza. I didn't care that I was soaked through to the skin. I was holding his hand. I was kissing his birth mark. I was running next to him.

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Glasgow itself is beautiful. On Saturday McBride walked me around the shops and along to the river. He already had places he called favourite spots. He already knew about shops I'd like, about shops I'd love. He was home now. This was it. And soon I'd be up here with him. I hope. We went to a tea shop called Vanilla Black and we drank tea and ate cake as the rain hammered on the window. When we got back to halls, he put on a song called Sweet Disposition (Temper Test) and we danced. It was perfect.

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On the bus back to Edinburgh we listened to Florence and the machine. We hadn't listened to it much together when he was down in Portsmouth. We compared our favourite bits. When the drums kick in on 'Blinding'. The line in 'Between Two Lungs' when she says 'I pray to god this breathe will last' And I never once let go of his hand.

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We had dinner with my folks that evening. A full on fresh fish restaurant. With sardines, wine, bass, crab and goats cheese on the menu, We were certain they'd charged us wrong when the bill appeared for £40. Oh well. They're loss. We then went back to Liz and Eric's for a sing star marathon. I think we fell into bad about 2 in the morning.

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Sunday morning was horrid. McBride told me the clouds were crying because I was leaving. He walked me to the bus stop. He got on the bus with me to George Street. He brought me a cup of tea from Starbucks. He got the bus with the three of us to the Airport. He held me so tight. I watched him get smaller as i went up the escalator. I could tell you I didn't cry, I could say i was strong. I could tell you that...

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My weekend was a stolen one, and it was taken away too quickly.