31 Letters in 31 Days: Letter 12 – Dear Tom
Bloody hell, how to write this and express everything I’d like to say? When I first heard about you, a black metal fan living for a year in Canada, who liked Burzum and Mortiis and who was also a conservationist, my heart played tricks with me. Life happened and then we got together when you returned from your adventures in the wilderness, and it started all over again. I was worried, at first, that I would scare you away with my ‘issues’. When you would come for the day and then get the evening bus home when the sun was cool and low in the sky, I was worried the things in my head would fall into my lap, and you would want to get away from me and not look back. You were cautious, quiet and lovely for a long time, and I thought that meant I wasn’t for you. But it didn’t, thankfully. You did want me. You made and continue to make me laugh more than anyone else has been able to. My face and stomach muscles ache most of the time, and I love it. When we have half a country between us, I want to howl like a wolf at the moon and cycle to you in my favourite dress, over the fells and moorland. I want to arrive at your door, mud splattered, with daffodils and an unopened bag of Cadbury mini eggs. We are going to Iceland in mere weeks, where we shall live in a tent for three months, and work outdoors, all day, in all sorts of weather. My cheeks have become sore from the pinching I need to do, to remind myself it is really happening. Tonight, you are protecting precious birds of prey. As darkness falls around your ears and the wind begins to become curious about everything, I will be thinking of you and hoping the night is kind.