Monday, 1 August 2016

This time last year

It is one of the plagues of the modern age, that little trick that Facebook has of reminding you what you were doing or saying or posting last year, or five years ago, or in some different age when your life looked completely different.

It just happened to me and it wasn't even my post. A friend posted a photo of a gig that he was at on the first of August last year. It just so happened that I was there too. I remember it vividly. I was still feeling fragile from my last heartbreak but I was out in the world putting a brave face on, trying to be optimistic that things that might get better. After all, I thought, they couldn't get much worse.

I didn't know then, that you were lurking just around the corner. In two days time, I would meet you again for the first time in years. I would be wary, scared to trust my heart to someone new, but gradually I would fall in love again. I would start to trust again. I would regain my faith in the future. I would have a wonderful time with you.

No-one could have predicted that, a year later, I would be sitting here sobbing because someone posted a picture of a gig attended by my innocent self who didn't know that twelve months later, the love I hadn't yet met would be dead. No-one would have known that my mum would be dead too. How much can change in twelve short months. From this week, every day will be an anniversary of a precious day that I spent with you. Until the day in March when Facebook will tell me that this time last year you died and all of my posts became memories of you, snapshots of heartache.

Photo taken by Paul this time last year, before we met

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