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Came home from Dunedin Sunday night really tired.
Letter had been waiting since Friday from G. When I read it I cried.
He had been reading The Prophet and had been thinking about me.

A really beautiful letter subtlely saying “I love you” with the help of Kahlil Gibran and “PS I’m lonely”.

Tried to write that night but couldn’t cos I was so shocked and upset.
I was uptight all weekend cos I knew G would have been at the concert (Mayall was OURS).
And now I find this letter.

I keep dreading meeting him again cos I’m so uptight.
I still can’t get over the incredibility of it.
He was 18 then and I was 17; it only lasted a month.
In June it’ll be two years since we met — now I’m nearly 19 and he’s 20.

Grown-ups? Never.
We are children of forever.

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