Departures and Arrivals
Last night we had a very low key night at home with the parents. Mum made fajitas, which was a bit different from the kind of fajitas that I'm used to, but good none the less. I fell asleep watching tv on the couch perfectly cuddled up to Rich. He must have fallen asleep too, for after what seemed like hours I had a nightmare that shook me to the bone. I was lying there on the couch with him, sleeping just as we were in reality when the door opened and a woman entered the room. I didn't think anything of it at first because I thought it was his mum. She stood at the side of the couch staring at us then started to come closer and closer. I got the strongest feeling that she didn't like us there. I tried to scream out for Rich to wake, trying to move and trying to yell but I couldn't. It was at that moment that the real Rich woke me up. I told him the dream and it freaked him out at the thought of some angry ghost person in his house. The night, despite the risk of his parents finding out we both slept in his room. (very high school). Part of me thinks it was because he knew how shaken I was from the dream another part of me thinks that he wanted me there to protect him. ha ha. How oddly nice that something like happened on my last night in England. The entire night was spent wrapped tightly in his arms being protected by the unseen monster.
The early morning brought with it added sadness. Fresh toast gobbled on the run as we made our way to the airport. Mrs Greatbatch cried a little as she hugged me goodbye. Lead in my boots- I didn't want to go either. The hour and a half that it took to reach Manchester had Mr Greatbatch, Rich and I driving through the most gorgeous countryside of Darbyshire. With the heather in new bloom the rolling green hills began to pepper with patches of brilliant purple. A picturesque goodbye postcard for my memory to cherish. The dad dropped us off at the airport so that we could have a little moment together before I had to board the plane. Bags checks, boarding pass in hand, all that's left is the goodbye. We sit on a bench for a little while talking about our favorite moments during the trip. He whispers sweet promises about our love and our future life together. A hug, a kiss and a little pervy joke to make me smile one more time before I leave. Leaving his embrace I can feel my soul rip in two. I don't want to leave. I want to stay in arms forever. Why must I leave? Life is unfair.
The early morning brought with it added sadness. Fresh toast gobbled on the run as we made our way to the airport. Mrs Greatbatch cried a little as she hugged me goodbye. Lead in my boots- I didn't want to go either. The hour and a half that it took to reach Manchester had Mr Greatbatch, Rich and I driving through the most gorgeous countryside of Darbyshire. With the heather in new bloom the rolling green hills began to pepper with patches of brilliant purple. A picturesque goodbye postcard for my memory to cherish. The dad dropped us off at the airport so that we could have a little moment together before I had to board the plane. Bags checks, boarding pass in hand, all that's left is the goodbye. We sit on a bench for a little while talking about our favorite moments during the trip. He whispers sweet promises about our love and our future life together. A hug, a kiss and a little pervy joke to make me smile one more time before I leave. Leaving his embrace I can feel my soul rip in two. I don't want to leave. I want to stay in arms forever. Why must I leave? Life is unfair.