Today marks one week before you board a plane for my homeland.
It’s been nearly 3 months since your wonderful self helped me carry my oversized luggage to the Iceland Air check-in counters at JFK and gave me a thousand hugs at the security queue before turning away with tears in your eyes.
As the plane pulled away from the gate and I gazed out of the window, my eyes fixed onto New York’s night lights for the last time and I cried too. Having you in my life has been nothing short of wonderful; Getting to spend two weeks with you in a haze of Peach Schnapps, NYC bagels and a hundred and one subway rides for bubble tea was the cherry on top.
In nine days I’ll be taking a train from my hometown down to London to meet you at the little flat you’ve picked out for our stay in the capital city. Then, on the day my brother turns 22, I’ll be bringing you up to my oft-forgotten little piece of land to show you how the Celts live.
I want to show you the most beautiful pieces of land around us: The mountains, the hills, the beaches, the castles, the towns and villages. But I also want to take your photographer’s eye to the uglier parts and give you adventure.
I want your two weeks in the Albion to be a non-stop whirl of smiles and laughter (and bubble tea).
But the truth is that you’re coming to a place I don’t want to be in, a country I was born into but don’t feel a part of. This is a place that suffocates me and makes me much more guarded than the girl you’ve come to know. A part of me’s afraid you’ll notice the affect it all has on me and be quite taken aback. I’ll never be able to explain my complicated, somewhat abusive relationship with this little island to you properly but that’s okay: It’s a place you look at with wonder and delight through foreign eyes, and I promise you’ll continue to see it that way when you’re here.
And I know that you’re the one who’s going to make my time living here that much more bearable. You’re the one that’s going to help remind me of the person I was three months ago, make me smile and bring out the ‘realness’ I keep locking away.
Because, honestly, you’re one of my best friends in the world. I’ve never met anyone who can make me laugh as much as you do, who can make me feel completely at ease and free of judgement, and who I can completely lose myself and dive into our own little world with.
I know that even with our five hour time difference (which’ll turn to a 13 hour difference next year. GAHD), you’re the friend I can call any time of the day or night with a problem. You’re the one who’ll calm me down when I’m feeling stressed. You’re the one who’ll make me laugh when I’m feeling crappy. You’re the one I talk to every day without fail.
You’re the one I know I’ll never lose touch with … because our friendship grew through being apart anyway.
You’re the one I admire and look up to because of your neverending strength and refusal to give up in spite of eveything life has thrown at you.
You’re the one who is my best friend, my sister, my twin, my LP dealer, my travel partner, my hetero lifemate (reference to Jay & Silent Bob – WHATUPPPPP!), my Muffin.
To say that I can’t wait for your arrival is an understatement. I can only begin to plot and plan how to keep you here for longer. (Ssshhh! Don’t tell Anthony! 😉 )
I want you to know how much it means to me that you’re coming and how I hope this is just the start of our cross-the-world visits and adventures together.
Thank you for being you. And thank you for letting me be a part of your life.
Have a safe flight and just one more question:
You 5-0, Muffin?????