Missing

On my way to a session last Saturday, I found myself missing my guy friend who recently got married. His face flitted across my mind and I recalled snatches of conversations we had and I wondered how he was doing.

I am always affected when I get these sudden bouts of missing someone. But that's the nature of it isn't it; how it can just grip you, unawares, when you are most unprepared and in the most inconvenient of places. So there I sat, in bus number 65, with the drizzle outside and my eyes tearing from the force of the dull ache in my heart.

His usual reaction to my text messages telling him that I missed him would be to brush them aside jokingly and then go on to call me for a chat or ask me to dinner or drinks. His subtle endeavours to assuage my wishing for his company.

Of course, I am in no position nor do I have the right to wish or ask for anything from him now.

The missing will wane and vanish, that much I know. After all, I am an old hand at that.