that quite often—but I don't like to impose. Not tonight, when he'd mentioned wanting to get the kids to bed early and spend some quality time with Sue. I feel like I'm always in their faces, always taking up their time. They don't do anything that suggests that's how they see things, but...shit, maybe I'm always going to worry that I'm a burden to everyone in my life.
Bathed and dressed in joggers and a T-shirt, I settle on the sofa and boot up my laptop. Ryan's probably written, as he does every day before he goes to work, and my stomach bunches in anticipation of reading his words. They always lighten me, and I hear his voice in my head, see the way his hands would move had he been speaking to me in person. I log in to my email account, excitement building, and smile as my gaze lands on his name and the title of his email: Missing You.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday 12 November, 18:47
To: [email protected]
All right? Shit, I had a case of Missing You Syndrome today. Been thinking about the old days, what a laugh we used to have, and it hit me really bad that you're not five minutes away anymore. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Don't want to put pressure on you, but if I don't tell you how I feel you might think I don't give a shit then find someone else. There I go again. Pressure. Fuck.
Work was the pits today. Some prick got right on my nerves. That guy I told you about, the one who always has his nose in everyone's business—he got in my business. Started telling me how to do my job, like he's my boss or something. Christ, he's just the same as me. So I lost my temper, told him he ought to piss right off and get on with his own work. He stared at me for ages, like he wanted to punch my lights out, then stormed off. Saw him later, clenching his fists, and I thought about asking him if he wanted to land them on me. I've got to get out of here. Out of town. Go somewhere different. Sound a bit like you, don't I? And there was me saying I couldn't leave here, would miss Mum and Dad, but that was back when I didn't know better. Now, well, I miss you like fuck and just wish I had the balls to up and leave like you did. Then again, knowing me, tomorrow I'll wake up feeling differently. I get on my own nerves the way I chop and change my mind. But now Mum and Dad are getting divorced, it's like the family unit has broken down, so what does it matter whether I stay here or not? I still can't get over those two splitting up. Thought they'd be together for life.
So, got anything interesting to tell me? If you have time before I give you a ring, write back. I'm sitting here bored shitless. Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. Trevor got arrested. It's in the paper and on the local news. He only went and fucking shot someone with that bloody gun of his. Too many witnesses to get out of it this time, and I hope he gets put away and they lose the damn key. I never did ask you, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I heard them bragging just after you left that Trevor pulled his gun on you. That right? If it is, why the hell didn't you tell me? Don't answer that. I know why, and you'd be right. I would have gone and seen him, gun or not, and...yeah, you know what I'd have done. He's one bloke I wouldn't mind doing time for, know what I mean?
What else? Oh, I saw your mum today. She looked at me like I was a piece of shit at first. Stared right down her nose at me. I smiled like nothing was wrong, gave her a wave. She stared for a bit longer then smiled back. Talk about fucking with my mind! I thought she hated me. Then again, she probably does. Maybe she smiled because she thought I'd stop and speak to her and she could find out where you are. Not likely I'll be telling her anything. Sorry to say it, but you're better off without her.
Anyway, I've gotta shoot downstairs and eat. Fucking starving. I'll give you a ring soon. Catch you later.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Ryan's emails, ah, they
Bathed and dressed in joggers and a T-shirt, I settle on the sofa and boot up my laptop. Ryan's probably written, as he does every day before he goes to work, and my stomach bunches in anticipation of reading his words. They always lighten me, and I hear his voice in my head, see the way his hands would move had he been speaking to me in person. I log in to my email account, excitement building, and smile as my gaze lands on his name and the title of his email: Missing You.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday 12 November, 18:47
To: [email protected]
All right? Shit, I had a case of Missing You Syndrome today. Been thinking about the old days, what a laugh we used to have, and it hit me really bad that you're not five minutes away anymore. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Don't want to put pressure on you, but if I don't tell you how I feel you might think I don't give a shit then find someone else. There I go again. Pressure. Fuck.
Work was the pits today. Some prick got right on my nerves. That guy I told you about, the one who always has his nose in everyone's business—he got in my business. Started telling me how to do my job, like he's my boss or something. Christ, he's just the same as me. So I lost my temper, told him he ought to piss right off and get on with his own work. He stared at me for ages, like he wanted to punch my lights out, then stormed off. Saw him later, clenching his fists, and I thought about asking him if he wanted to land them on me. I've got to get out of here. Out of town. Go somewhere different. Sound a bit like you, don't I? And there was me saying I couldn't leave here, would miss Mum and Dad, but that was back when I didn't know better. Now, well, I miss you like fuck and just wish I had the balls to up and leave like you did. Then again, knowing me, tomorrow I'll wake up feeling differently. I get on my own nerves the way I chop and change my mind. But now Mum and Dad are getting divorced, it's like the family unit has broken down, so what does it matter whether I stay here or not? I still can't get over those two splitting up. Thought they'd be together for life.
So, got anything interesting to tell me? If you have time before I give you a ring, write back. I'm sitting here bored shitless. Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. Trevor got arrested. It's in the paper and on the local news. He only went and fucking shot someone with that bloody gun of his. Too many witnesses to get out of it this time, and I hope he gets put away and they lose the damn key. I never did ask you, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I heard them bragging just after you left that Trevor pulled his gun on you. That right? If it is, why the hell didn't you tell me? Don't answer that. I know why, and you'd be right. I would have gone and seen him, gun or not, and...yeah, you know what I'd have done. He's one bloke I wouldn't mind doing time for, know what I mean?
What else? Oh, I saw your mum today. She looked at me like I was a piece of shit at first. Stared right down her nose at me. I smiled like nothing was wrong, gave her a wave. She stared for a bit longer then smiled back. Talk about fucking with my mind! I thought she hated me. Then again, she probably does. Maybe she smiled because she thought I'd stop and speak to her and she could find out where you are. Not likely I'll be telling her anything. Sorry to say it, but you're better off without her.
Anyway, I've gotta shoot downstairs and eat. Fucking starving. I'll give you a ring soon. Catch you later.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Ryan's emails, ah, they
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