Winter Wonderings

Today, I have come home for Christmas.

Motorways are boring. They allow a lot of time for absent-minded thought. The many junction stretch that takes me from one town to the other is a journey I've done countless times over the past forty months.

So I've done a lot of thinking.

The distance from South East Asia to the UK is large and a year is a long time. There are no phones in the jungle and there are no flights that are less than an extortionate amount. And I know it'll be an amazing experience, but I'll miss you, you know. Six thousand miles is very far...

The distance from this 'shire to that 'shire is less far. But it's still a long way and when there's the option of "coming 'round to mine" being a two minute walk rather than a three and a half hour train journey, it's awfully tempting to try for the former choice. It's the less definite opportunity and yet, it's the more appealing one. I want the holding hands and walking in a winter wonderland and mistletoe kisses. I want the being made a fuss of and the sharing experiences and the meaningful conversations and the private jokes and the classic enviable image of a young couple at christmastime. I want all that. Just not with the person I can have it with and especially if that person is not nearby for most of the time.

The distance from the city centre to the house in the small town on the outskirts is negligible compared with the previous two examples. It's hardly worth making a fuss about. But when you've gotten so used to living in the same abode as your best friends, and less than a couple of kilometres away from the rest of them, when you're used to the fact that you work with people of a similar age to you every day, it's awfully frustrating to come back to living in a place where every friend is a car drive apart and just a brief catch-up with some old chums requires rigorous organisation.

It feels like I'm living on borrowed moments and briefly snatched chances. There's not enough hours to get to know people before you have to pack up and leave again. I want more time and less distance. As always, life is travelling at the speed of sound and I need a moment to wait a while and draw it all in. But there's just no room for that.

It must be christmas time.

On the jukebox: The Pretenders ~ 2000 miles - sometimes, in a dream, you appear