Drowning in Sight of Land

Saying goodbye wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I thought I would cling to him, knowing how close we had grown over the past couple months, but he insisted that he would call often and we would see each other again soon. I knew I would miss his seeing his face in the middle of the night when neither of us could sleep, but the next leg of the tour was just around the corner and surely we would fall right back into it. After all, we were merely friends, right? Friends who fuck and tell each other everything and hide it all from the world.
My flight home was long and cramped. The air seemed utterly stifling. I was queasy and bored and sweaty. When I finally deboarded for my layover in Germany I nearly ran to the nearest bathroom and vomited what felt like a week’s worth of meals into the toilet. My next flight wasn’t much better.
I entered my flat nervously. I had never left home for more than a week at a time before and the thought of all of my worldly belongings existing alone without me made my stomach turn again. I flicked the lights on quickly and rushed from room to room making sure that everything was where I left it.
Once my fears had been quelled, I opened a window, fell back on my bed, and fell asleep almost instantly. I had forgotten how much I loved my bed. Over the next week I woke up only to take a bubble bath or read for a while, always returning to the same spot, curled tightly under my sheets. Jet lag was hitting me particularly hard, and I just didn’t feel like doing much of anything. A few friends called and asked me to go out but my mind was still elsewhere. I needed to decompress for a while.
On my ninth day home, my brother finally came into the city to return my dog Kora. The moment they entered the front door she began pacing around me in a circle, whining excitedly. I lay on the floor with her, letting her lick my face far longer than I otherwise would have.
“She looks good.” I spoke through her fur to my brother. “Thank you so much!”
He sat down next to us, leaning against the door. “You don’t. Jesus. What happened on that tour?”
“Oh shut up!” I half-heartedly held up a middle finger in his direction. “I’ve just been so jet lagged.”
“Did you lose weight?” He questioned, studying me up and down. “You look sickly.”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been having trouble eating lately. I think it’s like when you get so hungry that you’re nauseous and then you want to eat but food is repulsive.”
“I don’t get that way at all.” He said humorously, patting his round belly. “I’ve never been hungry a day in my life!”
“We should do something today. How long are you staying?” I finally sat up, letting Kora curl up in my lap.
“Just a few hours. I have work in the morning and I want to beat traffic.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, bumping his feet into my knee.
“Lets go for a walk or something. I haven’t been outside in aged. We can pick up lunch on the way.” I encouraged. He wasn’t usually much for walking but he didn’t get to the city much so I figured he wouldn’t mind.
I threw on some sweats and trainers, pulled my hair into a loose bun, and we headed out into the street. The sun was blinding. I really hadn’t gone out in days. I was only twenty but I felt eighty.
We walked to a café a few blocks from my flat. Martin went inside while I sat outside with Kora. It was one of those rare days where London looked just like the postcards. The sun was shining, people walked back and forth through the streets chatting to one another, a light breeze blew through. It was perfect.
When Martin returned with two sandwiches and sodas I immediately scarfed down everything in front of me. It was a crumbly cucumber number with entirely too much cream cheese but it tasted like heaven in the moment.
“So tell me everything!” Martin exclaimed, scooting his chair closer to mine. “From what I’ve read in the rags something serious went down. What’s the scoop? What juicy secrets do you have?”
“Nothing juicy, love, sorry. The secrets don’t make it to the kitchen.” I lied.
“Boring.” He sighed dramatically. “Well how did you get on then? Did you have fun? Make friends? All those things mum is always fussing over?”
“I had a good time. It’s much harder work then I thought, feeding all of those people, but I did make a few friends. It’s not a bad gig, really. Getting to travel all over the world and stay in nice hotels.” I tried to keep everything neutral. Truthfully, I didn’t see any of the world. When I wasn’t working I was either with Harry or too tired to go out.
“How are those lads? Are they complete dicks?” He was treading directly into an area that I wasn’t comfortable with.
“No, they’re lovely. Great human beings.” I gave him a coy smile, telling him that I wasn’t going to offer much more.
“I bet they make you say that.” He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and stood up. “We need to head out. It’s close to time for me to go.”
After we said our goodbyes and Martin was off on his way back to Northampton, I stripped down and drew a bath. I had left my phone on the bathroom counter while we were out so I scrolled through it while I waiting for the water to fill up. I was pleased to see a text from Harry.
“You haven’t talked to me at all. Rude.”
I scoffed openly at my phone and shot back with, “You haven’t talk to me either, knobhead.”
I set my phone back down and got into my bath. The heat stung my skin at first but it felt amazing nonetheless. I was just starting to relax fully in the bubbles when my phone vibrated on the counter.
“Oh, Jesus H!” I exclaimed. It was just far enough away that I would have to get out, but I knew it was Harry. I rose slowly, feeling a bit light headed, and planted one foot on the rug next to the toilet, leaving the other in the tub. I snatched my phone and quickly settled back into the water.
“I didn’t want to seem eager :) What have you been up to?”
I pondered for a moment on telling him something exciting and wild to seem less pathetic, but that just wasn’t me. “I’ve been in bed mostly. Tons of sleep. Its been lovely. My dog came home today! You?” I set my phone on the toilet and swished the bubbles back and forth while I waited for a reply.
“Mostly the same for me. Minus the dog. Nice to be home again. Missed LA.”
I was somehow hoping that he would be in London, or at least England even. Knowing that there were thousands of miles between us seemed strange. Almost as if reading my thoughts, he sent another message.
“Wish you were here.”
I threw my phone lightly onto my towel on the rug and sunk down into the water. Wish you were here. Wished I were there. Fuck.

Notes