To my Dearest Friend

Arrival

Cyril Courtenay

I look at the boring but beautiful lands of my dear England. I smile, How stupid to have missed this so much. But it feels good to be home I think, Is this home? I feel a tear in my eye as I realise nobody will be there to welcome me home again.

My father would never come and Yves would always be there to welcome me back, just like I would be there everytime he would travel. On the beautiful platforms of king's cross he'd stand there with such a beautiful smile and he'd always give me some kind of flower to welcome me back. He'd give me the flower of the season even if we both hated that one. I smile, and now I shall arrive and nothing will happen. I will be there all alone in this world full of people. I b ite my lip in an effort not to cry. I take sharp breath, what has happened to us. I could've been so happy. But what good does it do to hope? I feel empty like a river that has run dry. Like a house being taken over by nature after all humans left it. I feel , I feel... what do I feel? I try to make myself sound so incredibl profound but I am just saying words to hear them. I am trying to think the  way Yves does but it just doesn't come naturally to me. I have always been shallow. I am shallow, will always be.

I am shallow, foolish and arrogant. I lack emphathy, emotions and a mind like Yves. I am crushed between wanting to be more profound and ridiculing myself for feeling like that. It feels so ironic to me, how I could love myself so much, be so arrogant, while hating every fiber of myself. I have always been so focused on myself, I have done everything for myself, I am not a good person. And than I fell in love with a human that would give his life for people, he almost did. He would do everything to protect his two boys, he'd give his life for Frances and I even think he'd give his life for the rest of his family, even if he hates them, he is too good for them. The fact that he even would think of it makes me feel guilty, because I wouldn't give my life for my father. I wouldn't give my life for any of my old friends. I feel a tear rolling down my cheek, but I would give my life  for him. I shake the thougt from my head, I can't afford to think about him like that. I can't afford to see him like that anymore, it would only hurt me and it would also hurt him. I couldn't it will never be possible to look at him without this burning love but at least I could try my best not to feel it. I hope it will not be too overwhelming, I don't know when's the next time I'll see him, I wonder how old we'll be. My stapid sunshine, the tear rolls down my cheek and is stopped by my hand.

We arrive at Kings cross and I get off the train. I step onto the platform, there are so many people rushing but I just stand there, looking at the trains of life arriving and departing, every one of them could possibly change somebody's life. My life has been changed. I am so utterly alone standing on the platform. I used to be no happy to see that same omile reflecting so much happiness but my now my face is probably laced with bitterness. And I understand that love will always be hard but I never I will never understand why it needs to hurt so much.

I see a couple reuniting and kissing, she must've missed him so much. I smile, young love, how precious. And something I will never be able to have. I smile, is that true cyril? Isn't this the very same love you and Yves had? Such precious love, such earth shattering love, such beautiful love. With that person by your side you'll feel like you could conquer the world and with Yves, it was entirely possible. I hate the world without him but this is my new reality and better get used to it quickly. It's been about two weeks since Yves left and about a week since I wrote the letter I think.

I wonder what he's up to. I wonder if he's happy, I hope he is happy. I start to walk out of the train station. It feels like a ghost of him is walking next to me, I exoect a happy scream of my name every second but I know I am fooling myself. He is in Vienna and even if he was here he wouldn't want to see me. I am holding onto this ghost of him so I won't drown in this storm of people. But even if this ghost, this shadow in the only thing keeping me sane I wish I could let go of it, let go of him. I don't know how not to love him anymore but I wish I knew, I really do. I wonder if this feeling will ever pass, but I would have no idea who to ask. I cannot talk about this. evrything I ever loved needs to be locked in place and forgotten.

 I pass a church, I look at it for a moment, I smile perhaps there is one being that would listen, does he listen? I am not even sure. But perhaps it would help, and that is enough won't it? I turn my head again and walk past it. Love is something so scary, something so daring, how incredibly brave you must be to love somebody un front of everybody. I wonder if these lovers are scared that something bad between them will happen? Is love something beautiful? I am sure of it but why do so many people fear the difference between them and their partners. I wonder if they think we'll judge them? I knew Yves and I weren't exactely the same and that was exactely what made it work, I once read a myth that people one were both female and male and when they were split as a punisment, they began to look for their partner. Embracing them as soon as they found them, it was a beautiful story but it made me wary. Why did I love Yves. If our souls were the perfect match what about the fault in our bodies? I still wonder, why are we different