It dawned on me this morning that going to South Africa is going to make me friendless.
Sitting on the train into London watching the sunrise grow up through reds and purples with dramatic converging lines of clouds. Dark wisps of clouds floating through the air. It’s gradually shifted through the spectrum to the yellow light that now pervades the carriage as the orange disc climbs above the horizon shrouded in clouds.
Gave me time to reflect. My friends are here in London. At work, church, from uni. And I’m going to miss them enormously. The impromptu coffees when things aren’t going so well. Sitting in the churchyard eating lunch. Drinking port in the Bishop on a Friday. Fake xmas (this year at Mark’s new house).
I will miss this - it’s what I’m used to and comfortable with. So what can I do? E-mail them, blog with them in mind, actually write those letters and make those phone calls. The worrying thing is that I know how terrible I am at keeping in touch with other people that have moved away from London… How can I expect others to keep in touch and give me news when I’m so bad at doing it myself? I smile with joy and relief when I think that some people are more gifted and devoted to such things than I am.
Maybe I won’t be as friendless as I fear.
Hello again my sun.
I too am rubbish at keeping in touch, but however much I actually manage to write or ring, you can guarantee that I’ll be writing you a letter in my head every day.
I’m quite convinced you won’t be for long..