Nostalgias

I took you to dinner on our first night,
then for drinks in the Leaf, and we kissed
on the cobbled, cracked street.
We went to lunch on the Thames and made
love in the afternoon.
Then took you to the bookshop and I
bought Things Fall Apart. I made Mr Richardson
take my money, instead of yours. 'Despite your
telling me not to'.
I met you in Clapham, two weeks after moving
to London. You had dessert in the Northcote,
sticky toffee pudding, I think. Stayed the
weekend with me. It was heaven with you.
I met your cousin Clayton for the first time,
a few weeks later. We became best friends,
and I miss him and think about him every day.
We first said I love you by Platform 19 of
Waterloo station, I told my friend Emily that.
Sometimes when I tell her about us, she's near to
tears. I told her about the day we watched the Breakfast
Club. I think she knows that it's rare you share something
so intimate with someone, so close to you.
In November, I wanted to bring Sami a slice
of Pumpkin Pie, because I remembered how much she
said she missed it. But I left it in London, by accident.
I loved your friends, who were always so kind to me.
And then we walked the banks of the Thames,
by the Southbank and browsed books.
I took your picture there in the winter, you
wore the red knit that A now owns.
We had Sundays in St Johns Wood, sometimes
walking through Primrose Hill.
When the sun was out, we bathed and read with
an ice cream there. You admired the many dogs.
Occasionally, we'd go to Belsize Park, always to
the charity shops to buy discount books. You made
me fall in love with literature all over again.
In the Christmastime, we went to Spain and I
met your family. I tried to speak Spanish and
realised how much more I had to learn.
We had lunch on the Plaza de Neptune, and I
became ill and went to the doctor in London.
It became harder for you, I know, to support
me and keep in touch with yourself. For that,
I was wrong and I'm sorry. Mere words don't fix
it, I know. But love will. And knowing that
it won't happen again, as we will be better, is all -
Then there is, of course, our Christmas together,
where you bought me Heart of Darkness. I keep it
with me now, we studied it last week. You wrote in
the front 'Feliz Navidad, te amo'. I almost cried
reading that over.
You bought me that jumper, too and took a picture.
A guy laughed at me by the station, but it was a jumper
from you, and I wasn't ashamed, I'd wear it everyday
if everyone knew it was from you. Thank you.
I cooked the Peruvian food in the kitchen, sometimes
I got it wrong and got mad with myself and sad. But
I'm over
it now.
I wanted so desperately to learn Spanish because I knew
you got nervous, and I wanted to meet you halfway
and I bought a book on Peru, to learn about you.
You told me your secrets and deepest feelings, and that
night you cried in my arms, I'd never felt closer to anybody.
We shared ourselves with each other like very few do,
and that doesn't go to waste, because it is how it is. And
you always wanted the best for me.
I found a note in my notebook from you, I'll show you sometime,
it's how I know you're the one for me.
You went out of your way to help me, I can't
thank you enough. I tried to love you to the
amount of thanks you deserved, perhaps it wasn't enough.
I will work to do better.