The Aftermath

Time for him to leave today, and I will miss him greatly, we have spent 4 days together, exploring each other's bodies, playing and finally having sex. Until the next time I suppose, I think as his train departs. I find myself suddenly alone, sixteen- and by now more than curious. Off to the place I call home, walking through the big city I look around. 'There's so much more out here to explore.' Taking one last look around and one huge smog filled breath of city air as I board the bus. Home James.

It's 2001, mother has just invested in a Packard Bell, having recently become familiar with chat rooms I stumble across AOL chat. S never seems to be online, and have made some 'buddies' over the last few weeks ranging in A/S/L's. It's comforting, almost theraputic- helps me pass the time between work and the fizzling contact I am seemingly having with S. Music is my new passion, delving all I can into my singing, writing and performing opportunities. One morning however- this all changed. It was a normal Tuesday, I had gotten up at 7.30am, done my hair and make up and walked to work, with my Walkman playing, I caught sight of myself in the mirror of the shoe shop, smiled and sang along to Embrace. The glances of the bloke across the road, unpacking boxes for his discount bargain shop leave me totally unfazed. By the time I had reached the listed building I had gone into my bag, and it pained me to turn off 'Drops of Jupiter'. But my boss was pretty strict. I thought about S as I threw the bag into the back, chucked off my jacket and donned my glamorous as hell uniform... Suddenly Boss and workmate come running through the staff area, in a total tizz. The television is turned on, which is a rarity..I'm now very intrigued. I watch in horror as the news shows a plane gliding into the World Trade Center North Tower, then again as the same happens, in The South Tower. My mobile's ringing and my thoughts turn directly to S as his name appears on my phone. I look to my boss, he nods. He is in a right old state, 'Have you seen the news? This might be WW3, I might have to go to the US, They think its terrorists, Iraq' He was shitting himself, big time. It was 3 weeks later he suddenly developed an injury during training, seemed to like spending time in Sick bay (beam me up) This followed by another 'injury' and countless calls and whines. My macho bloke had turned into a mega wimp! What the fuck?! nevertheless I'd still do anything for him, after all this was love, right? So when the time came, oh and it came where he was 'discharged' (pardon the pun) I moved out, It was on the cards anyway and he had written to mother asking if he could have my old room. She had been nice enough to agree and seems as though he was 'engaged' to her daughter...