I love England. I’ll try to explain why in this text, but since I don’t really know myself, it’s going to be quite difficult. Last week however, I acquired some experience in the matter – I visited England for the very first time!
Last summer I travelled to Skåne to work at the World Scout Jamboree. I didn’t know at the time that I was going to stay for five weeks, and I would never have realized how hard it would be to leave.
He had everything, an amazing supply of charm and joy, all that you could possibly wish for in a guy. He was tall and athletic. Every time he looked into my eyes he left me motionless and weary. He was my personal remedy, for the loneliness we often felt being so far from home, and I was his. He also assured me that he loved me, as completely as a boy possibly can when he’s eighteen years old. And I believed him. How could I not?
It was wonderful! He made my summer the best one I’ve ever had, and I loved him for it. Just lying in the sun next to him outside his tent is now one of the best memories I have. To watch the sunset on a field getting attacked by mosquitos might seem less great, but with him there – nothing could be better.
He was brown haired and had deep-blue eyes with a gentle look in them. I remember clearly that his smell was one of the best smells I’d ever come across. Was there anything wrong or bad about him? Well, not bad in the sense you might think of. But there were lots of things that complicated things.
First: he was English, and that meant he lived very far away. Second: he was two years older than me, which to me wasn’t a problem, but it was to him. To him I was wonderful, great, cute and amazing – except for the fact that I was a fifteen year-old brat orbiting like a bug around him. But he was so much more to me. To me he was the world, a person who was something more than I was familiar with. Outrageously I knew nothing about England before I met him, now I probably know more than many Englishmen do!
It ended as fast as it started, which was hard of course. I really liked him; I remember that I was actually prepared to give up everything for him. But he didn’t want that, so he left. I went with him to Copenhagen to say goodbye. Today I regret that, at the same time, I know I could never have done it differently. The thing was, that when the day came and he was leaving, I just couldn’t say goodbye. So I hoped on the train and went with him. I guess I played my heart a trick by making myself believe that we would never have to say goodbye, but life is unfair sometimes. Love gets thrown away like litter on the street.
When we finally stood there on platform 5 at the train station in Copenhagen, I suddenly realized that I had ten minutes left. Ten minutes to say I loved him, to hug him one last time, to kiss him and to smell him. Also; life finally caught up with me, and I knew I’d never see him again. And it didn’t matter how much I tried; I could not stop myself from crying. I was a child and I didn’t know what to do. And I did nothing. I stood there next to him for ten minutes, and I could feel that he wanted the same thing I wanted – to stay there and never part again. Then his train came, and he gave me a hug and a kiss, and then another hug. We didn’t say anything, and then he walked away. The last thing he said when I passed him on my out was: “See you”, and then he launched himself onwards into adulthood. It broke my heart to hear, knowing he was lying. I would never see him again.
In the end I didn’t get him, but he gave me one thing: England! Without him I would never have understood or even cared for England at all, and I would have missed so much! I can’t imagine not having my friends there today. They’re such a big part of me. And my future is there too; the University I want to attend, the culture I want to become a part of and the friends I want to spend my life with. So I guess I have to thank him for taking everything away from me, because he gave me so much either way.
Was it worth it then? Losing what you want most? Yes, I would say it was. I try to think that no one should regret something that made them smile; life doesn’t give you that much if you can’t appreciate it. And loving someone is hard; it’s like trying to conduct a symphony of fish – on land!
I walked on “crutches” for a long time after he left, trying to move on. Letting go was just something I couldn’t do, at least not yet, but I had to move on. School started a week after I came home, and I don’t remember a single one of those days in between. I remember crying and crying, pain and trying to contact him. A month later I stopped trying. By that time I had spent every single night in my bed crying. I never realized how much a person can hurt you when he’s so far away. By New Year’s, about four months after he left, he was in a new relationship. I didn’t cry over it, and I haven’t cried since. A strange kind of relief is what I remember from that day.
The future looks brighter, and I can’t wait for the time to pass. It’s weird really, how things turn out in the end. Exactly six months after he left, I went to London; my first time in England. Words can’t really describe how much I loved it! And in six months, exactly a year after he left, I will go to England again – hopefully to not come back for another a year. I’m not mentally disabled anymore, I want to live life and enjoy it! I like to think I was just rehearsing for the future.
The only thing I got in the end was England, quite a thing to get huh! And I will always think of him when I go there, how could I not? Maybe I’ll take him up on his promise one day, and we will see each other again. Pure hope is often the only thing you need. And plunging into love that can never last is not such a good idea. Next time I’ll obey my brain!