The following was written on an Etihad Airways flight from Abu Dhabi and Mumbai, and miraculously posted via the airport’s over-taxed free WiFi network.
Oh my God, it’s over, it’s over.
The thought has only just struck me, 37,000 feet up in the air, two-thirds of the way between Abu Dhabi and Mumbai. The trip I booked and anticipated and counted down to: it’s over and it’s done. And now I am going home. Alone.
We didn’t have the chance to have a last hug. We couldn’t have, anyhow, since public displays of affection are frowned upon. But there was a car stuck behind my taxi, and as it blasted its horn at us Calum only had the time to pass me my bag and give my shoulder a squeeze.
The last glimpse I caught was of him standing at the corner, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He waved, and it already felt like he was too far away. Then the taxi pulled away and he was gone, shielded from view by the grey block-ish frame of the building.